Page 58 of In the Dark

“I’ll take care of it,” I cut in, because I trusted myself more than I ever would trust Perla and Monte.

Maybe Jasmina didn’t see the conflict of interest, but they’d made money trafficking for as long as Paolo had lived.

“I want to help,” Jasmina said softly to me. “Any way I can.”

I nodded, sure I wasn’t going to let her do a damn thing with how soft and vulnerable she looked staring at me now, but I was still willing to let her believe she would nonetheless. I waved her on to continue the conversation with her aunt.

“Tía, I’m going to move money around to start to right this wrong, but I’ll make sure it’s fine.”

Perla agreed and then asked, “How are you doing?”

“I’m settling in,” Jas said cautiously, “We’re … we’re moving forward with the arrangements.”

“How is he?” Perla asked tentatively. “The Knight?”

Jasmina glanced at me, her eyes raking over my face with a look I couldn’t decipher. “He’s okay.”

Didn’t feel especially okay when she said I was only okay.

I was used to women fucking fawning over me, and now my future wife was barely interested.

At one point she had been. At one point she’d screamed my name in a penthouse like she was as feral for me as I was for her.

It’d been one night. One night I’d have to forget until our wedding, I guess. Then, I’d prove to her again that I could be better than fucking okay.

At least we finally were moving forward with getting the invites out for Fitzpatrick and Fuerte Firearms to see.

Small win for the day, I guess. I got up to open her door and murmured to one of the men outside of it, “Bring my work bag. I’ll set up here for the time being. You all can go back to normal posts for the night.” They were throughout the house, extra security now with Jasmina here. Archer, when he was available, would stay at her door. I wanted him there always, but the bastard was flying in and out of the country, claiming he had other obligations.

When I got my work laptop, I waved for Jasmina to take her cousins off speaker because they were going on and on about flowers. The two of them talked a mile a minute, my God.

Jasmina took them off speaker but gave me a disgusted look like I should have sat through the conversation too. She acted like I was supposed to plan for all this, like I was supposed to cater to her every want and need. Hadn’t I done enough by buying her the whole menu at a restaurant and forcing police evidence to be shown to her?

And then there was Romeo. His icy eyes pinned me with a glare from the floor, and he didn’t come anywhere near enough so that I could pet him like Mia and Franny had. “I don’t like you either, Romeo.”

“What do you mean no one caters into Paradise Grove?” She waited, and then she turned in her chair to curl her lip at me. “I see. I guess I’ll work on that too. Can you let Tía Perla know we need a priest who she respects … No, I don’t care about how the priest will look up on the altar with us. Just—” Another pause. “I highly doubt it will be in magazines.”

Her eyes widened, and I figured her cousin was telling her exactly how many magazines would cover the wedding. Jasmina wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions across her face as she thought. I felt the consternation building there before I saw her wrinkle her nose in what appeared to be disgust.

What the fuck was her cousin saying?

“Speaker, Jas,” I commanded now because I was curious again.

She flipped me off.

Of course she did.

She then answered in Spanish rapidly, “Sí, lo odio, pero aun así quiero que la boda cuente con la bendición de la tía Perla y de mis padres.” (Yes, I still hate him, but I want the wedding to have the blessing of Aunt Perla and my parents.)

I wondered if she realized I spoke Spanish fluently.

“Si, estoy bien. Dile que me estoy recuperando bien.” (Yes, I’m fine. I’m recovering well.)

And wasn’t that an interesting tidbit as she rubbed a hand over her lip again.

I guess I could add to the list that Jasmina was stubborn in her lies too. She’d been hurt in some way if her aunt was asking about her well-being. Glad I had Jameson working on that. Yet, when she hung up with her cousin, she pinned me with an accusatory glare rather than that of any sort of vulnerability.

“I want the businesses that Paolo trafficked women under. And I can’t cater into Paradise Grove.”