The moment my chest is flush against his, he releases my arm only to snake his hand around my waist and press me even closer. My nipples drag against him, hardened to peaks from the way he studies my reaction to him. Even the friction of my shirt between us turns me on.

  “You’re beautiful when you fight me,” he says. “But you’re irresistible after you’ve finally given in.”

  His mouth closes over mine with complete possession.

  At his words, I want to fight him some more, but he’s right. I’ve given in to him already, and there’s no going back now. I melt against him, opening myself fully when we’ve barely just begun.

  His free hand cups the back of my neck, angling my mouth so he can devour me completely. I cling to him, my knees already threatening to buckle with the sensation of him. But he shows absolutely no mercy, shoving his tongue inside my mouth like he has every right to claim me this way.

  He kisses me like he kidnaps—taking and taking as if he’s owed everything simply by wanting it in the first place. I should hate it, but I’ve never craved more of something like I crave Grey.

  My hand brushes the gauze on his shoulder, and he winces against my mouth.

  “Sorry,” I say quickly, pulling it away.

  “Don’t be sorry,” he says sharply.

  I look up at him, startled to see the fire in his gaze. There’s more than desire behind that heat, and it terrifies me just as much as it thrills me to see it there.

  “I just meant that you’re hurting. Because of me,” I tell him.

  But he shakes his head, and his eyes glint like the tip of a knife. “None of this is your fault, Lexi. Don’t apologize for it. Ever. My father did this. And your grandfather too. And I’m going to make them all pay.”

  “We,” I correct. “We will make them all pay. Together.”

  “We,” he agrees, stroking my hair. “I fucking swear it.”

  24

  LEXI

  The night sky offers a beautiful backdrop for the rooftop gathering. My dress, one of the gowns Grey picked out for me, is a navy blue with sequins that reflect the twinkle lights strung around the pergola. So much so that the rich fabric shimmers blindingly with every movement of my body. I frown, trying to hold still so the damn thing will stop feeling so freaking extra.

  I’ve never been this dressed up in my life, and it feels strange to do it now for all these people who think they know me but have no idea. In fact, I might have chosen something else entirely if Grey’s eyes hadn’t nearly fallen out of his head when I walked out of my bedroom earlier. Having him look at me like that made me feel powerful, but now that I’m here, it’s not just his reaction that matters. If I’m not perfect, Vincenzo will take it out on his son, and I refuse to be the cause of that kind of violence again.

  Grey’s injuries are painful; I can see it in the stiff way he carries himself. He looks achingly handsome in his tux, and the way he stands with his arm around my waist, constantly reminding me I’m not alone, is a distraction from the guilt.

  Now, I stand on the rooftop of one of the city’s fanciest restaurants, a place called Chavez—and everyone here eyes me like I’m a specimen in a petri dish. We’ve been here all of thirty minutes, and already I’m buckling under their scrutiny.

  Guests stare openly, but it’s the generals and, more specifically, their wives, who don’t bother keeping their voices down when I come to stand beside where they’re all hovering around a waist-high cocktail table. Each of them clutches a martini in their jewel-laden hands, their noses turned stiffly toward the sky while they judge everyone else.

  One of them shoots me a glance and remarks, “Her tits are completely unrealistic. She should have gone with a smaller size to make it believable.”

  I roll my eyes but don’t bother to give them my attention. They aren’t worth it.

  Another responds, “I think she’s actually really pretty for a stripper.”

  I move away so I can’t hear them just in case my patience snaps and I decide to break one of their very expensive noses.

  Across the crowded rooftop, Grey nods at whatever his father is saying to him. The older man’s shoulders are squared, and Grey’s expression is tight, but otherwise, they remain civil enough in front of the guests. Still, I’m not interested in speaking to the elder Diavolo, no matter how good his manners are tonight.

  Scanning the other guests, I shift a little, and my dress twinkles brightly with the slight movement. The gown Grey insisted on is beautiful and ostentatious to the point of discomfort.

  Just then, Mia walks up. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine, why?”

  She arches a brow, clearly not buying my answer. “You look like you ate something terrible.”

  “It’s not the food,” I tell her.

  “Then what—?”

  “This dress.”

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  “I look like a disco ball,” I tell her, gesturing to my dress. “I’m going to walk across the room, and someone’s going to have a stroke.”

  Mia laughs. “So dramatic.”

  I raise my brows at that. “You guys will literally kill someone over a girl you’ve never met, and you think I’m dramatic?”

  “Fair,” she admits with a pout. “But it’s not just about you. I mean, look around. What do you see?”

  “Champagne. Expensive clothes I could never afford. A level of self-involvement I couldn’t reach if I tried.”

  “Don’t forget self-importance,” she adds wryly.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Ramsey says, joining us on my other side with a drink in his hand. “What’s wrong with being important?”

  I glance over, appreciating the way he fills out a suit. They’re all gorgeous, in fact. Mia with her black gown that hangs from her shoulders from one slanted strap, her throat and ears dripping in diamonds. Dutch standing not far away with his shirt sleeves rolled to the forearms, revealing the tattoos wrapping around his arms like snakes. Razor and Crow sit at a table in the back with heads bent close. They’ve already shucked their jackets and bow ties, leaving the top few buttons of their shirts open to reveal smooth skin and sharply angled chests beneath.

  The general’s children are beautiful, every single one.

  Beautiful and deadly.

  But it’s Grey who takes my breath away.

  “Lexi’s worried she’ll hurt someone in that dress,” Mia tells him.

  Ramsey scoffs. “She’s going to break every heart in this room the moment they realize she’s taken.”

  He winks.

  Mia snickers, eyes narrowing even as she manages to keep her demure smile in place. “Most of the assholes in this room deserve to be hurt anyway.”

  While the two of them continue to banter, I scan the guests until my gaze lands on Grey. He’s near the bar, talking to a woman I don’t know. She’s elegant in a navy-blue gown that hugs her slender frame and understated jewelry that lets her mature beauty shine.

  Jealousy streaks through me. Not only at the sight of him talking to another woman but at the idea that he has this whole life here with family and friends he’s known forever, and I have … nothing.

  No history, no roots. No future.

  “You can stop shooting daggers, you know.” Mia’s voice snaps me out of my intense study, and I look over at her. “That’s his mother.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “Uh-huh.”

  The longer I look back and forth between them, the more I begin to note the way Grey’s brows slant just like hers do. The shape of their mouths is similar too, especially when they frown—which they both do now as if whatever Grey has just said to her was unhappy news.

  My cheeks flush, and I duck my head, deciding now is as good a time as any to down the rest of the drink I’ve been nursing. Mia, gratefully, doesn’t comment further, and a moment later, the band finishes their song.

  Vincenzo makes his way forward and steps onto the low stage before grabbing a mic. My stomach clenches, both in fury at the sight of him and in fear at what’s to come.

  “Here,” Mia mutters and takes my empty champagne flute, replacing it with a full one. Our eyes meet, and she nods at me in understanding. “One more won’t hurt.”

  I take her advice and drain the bubbly. The buzz it offers isn’t much, but it dulls my nerves at least a little.

  Up front, Vincenzo calls for attention, and I take a deep breath then exhale it shakily.

  Here we go.

  “Good evening, and thank you all for coming,” Vincenzo says with a smile I know only masks the evil beneath.

  Grey breaks away from the woman—his mother—and makes his way toward me. Ramsey steps aside to give him room, and Grey presses in close and slides his arm around my waist. The pressure of his warm fingers at my hip is a reassurance I desperately need.

  “Just breathe,” he whispers.

  I glance up at him and find support in his dark gaze. Suddenly, for the first time since he brought me to Indigo Hills, it’s like we’re in this together.

  Allies.

  Maybe more…

  “It’s an honor to be among friends as tonight is a special evening for my family—and our pack,” Vincenzo says, and I face the front again. “I can’t think of anyone I’d want to share this moment with than all of you. I’d like to officially announce that my son, Jericho Diavolo, has chosen Lexi Giovanni as his mate and future bride.”

  The crowd applauds as every single one of them turns to look at us. No, not us. Me. And while there are mostly polite smiles being tossed my way, there is also a distinct feeling of judgment from the guests nearby.

  “Congratulations to the lovely couple,” Vincenzo says. “Come on up here, you crazy kids.”

  “Your name is Jericho?” I whisper.

  “Only to him.” His hand finds mine. “Come on.”

  Mia snags my empty flute out of my hand just as Grey tugs me up to the stage. Every single pair of eyes is glued to my back, but I keep my shoulders square and chin up, refusing to let them see me sweat.

  Years of locking away my emotions from others make their scrutiny slightly easier. Still, I squeeze Grey’s hand tightly as we come to stand beside Vincenzo. I don’t miss the way Grey puts himself between me and his father—or the stiffness with which he stands beside the man who nearly killed him hours earlier.

  I squeeze his hand once more for that.

  “Son, why don’t you say a few words,” Vincenzo urges.

  Grey takes the mic, and Vincenzo beams at him expectantly.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Grey says in a voice that is coldly charming. It’s not one I’ve ever heard him use before, and I can’t help but watch him as he plays the part Vincenzo has demanded even better than I realized he knew how. “I know what most of you are thinking. What is an amazing catch like Lexi doing with a nobody like me?”

  A few laughs, all of them strained.

  “But seriously,” he says, expression intent now as he looks out at the faces. “Lexi and I are aware of the tension that exists between our families. We know this union is a shock for many of you. We won’t pretend our decision doesn’t affect the entire pack. Hell, the entire city. But this city and our families are what brought us together, and through getting to know Lexi, I’ve come to learn she’s as devoted to helping as I am. I know we can make a bigger difference together than apart. I hope we can even forge peace for the first time in our history. Lexi and I are committed to this city and to one another. We ask for your support and faith as we move forward.”

  “Does this mean you’re home for good?” someone calls out, and I swear the voice sounds a lot like Dutch though I can’t see who spoke.

  “I am,” Grey confirms. “It’s time to take my rightful place among my pack.”

  The crowd’s applause is much louder than before and much more genuine if the expressions are any indication. The faith Grey has asked them for is already being offered here and now—only, it’s Grey they’re looking at, not me.

  And not Vincenzo.

  Grey hands his father the microphone, but Vincenzo frowns and stalks over to me, holding the mic out.

  “Your turn,” he says in a low, menacing tone.

  I grip the microphone tightly to hide the tremble. Blinking out at the crowd, my nerves cloud my vision until I can’t see faces—only blurred figures. My heart slams against my chest, and I have to shove the images of Grey’s torn body from my mind so I can shove out the words Vincenzo wants to hear.

  “I’d like to echo everything my fiancé said and to say thank you for the warm welcome you’ve shown me tonight. I look forward to being a part of the Diavolo family.”

  The applause when I’m done is a soft roar in my ears thanks to my heart pounding loudly enough to drown it out.

  Vincenzo isn’t satisfied yet, though. He lowers the mic, covering it with his hand so his voice can’t carry as he glares at us both. “Now seal it.”

  I look back at him, confused, but then Grey grabs my elbow and turns me to face him, and I know exactly what he means to do. Grey steps in close, his gaze warm and reassuring as he braces his palm along my jaw.

  “Pretend it’s just us,” he whispers.

  Then he leans in and brushes my lips with his own.

  The crowd is delighted. More applause, more smiles and whistles.

  Grey’s lips curve against mine, and I find myself smiling along with him. My stomach dances with butterflies as he brushes my mouth with his. The engagement we announced might be fake, but what I feel when Grey kisses me is all too real.

  Vincenzo snags the mic from my hand. “Clearly, they’re smitten,” he says with that fake charm dripping once again.

  I tense, but Grey doesn’t seem done with me yet. He places another soft kiss at the edge of my mouth and another on my cheek. Finally, one more along my jaw. I relax, even knowing we’re still on full display for the crowd. Some part of me knows he’s only playing the part, convincing them this is real. But, in this moment, it is real. At least, for me.

  I sigh against him, and he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”

  He pulls away, and I nod at him in relief. Hand in hand, he leads me back through the crowd. Many guests call out to him as we pass, offering warm wishes and congratulations. He smiles, nods, and keeps us moving toward the back where the exit to the elevators waits, and I’m so grateful to be done with this whole performance.

  In the foyer, the woman from earlier waits.

  She smiles at me. “Hello, Lexi. I’m Serena Diavolo, Jericho’s mother.”

  “Hello,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise.”

  I glance at Grey. “Jericho?”

  “Don’t start,” he warns.

  His mother looks between us, amused.

  “You’ve been using an alias?” I ask.

  “My middle name is Grey,” he explains.

  “Jericho Grey Diavolo,” I say, and he scowls.

  His mother chuckles. “He only ever heard that when there was hell to pay.”

  “I’ll remember that,” I say, shooting him a smug look.

  She laughs, eyes twinkling at Grey. “I like her.”

  The compliment warms me, and when she looks back at me, her smile is soft but genuine. “You both did well up there.”

  Where Vincenzo is all violence and forced power, Serena is softness and sweet. There’s a look in her eyes, a sort of sadness that suggests she knows exactly what was at stake tonight. I wonder if she’s been at the wrong end of her husband’s wrath just like Grey has.

  She glances at Grey, adding, “He’s happy with it.”

  Grey shakes his head. “Happy is not a word that could ever describe him.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He sighs. “I do. Listen, I’m taking Lexi home. I know it’s going to piss him off, but—”

  “I’ll take care of it,” she says, shooing us along.

  But Grey hesitates. “You sure you’re up for it? You promised to take some time away.”

  Serena smiles and glances at me. “I couldn’t miss the announcement of my son’s engagement, could I?”

  “Mom,” Grey begins, but she shakes her head, cutting him off.

  “Go,” she urges. “Enjoy yourselves. Don’t be a stranger, Lexi. Let’s do brunch very soon.”

  “I’d like that,” I tell her, offering a genuine smile.

  “I’d like it too,” she tells me as she hits the call button and the elevator doors open. “Now, go,” she says firmly.

  Grey kisses her cheek as we pass. “Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

  “Love you too, darling. Good night.”

  We wave as the doors close behind us.

  When we’re alone, I exhale in relief.

  “Your mom seems—”

  My words are cut short as Grey grabs me and backs me into the corner of the elevator. My breath catches, and for a moment, I’m too surprised to react. His gaze has darkened, and his hands roam my hips as he presses himself into me.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, his kind words at war with the intensity of his presence. “For putting you through that.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I whisper. “Don’t ever be sorry for me.”

  His eyes flash as he realizes I’m quoting his words back to him.

  “You did a good job tonight, princess.”

  “I had you beside me,” I whisper.

  His growl is the last thing I hear before he kisses me like he’s not sorry for a fucking thing. And neither am I.

  25

  GREY

  From the moment I laid eyes on Lexi earlier tonight, she has consumed me. I thought she’d been in my head before, but that lap dance was only the beginning. Back then, I wanted her body, and now I want every single piece of her she’ll let me have. Every thought, every breath, every urge has been for this. She’s soft and pliant in my arms, already open and willing to give me whatever I want to take. But I refuse to fully take her in this elevator. Not that I have a single qualm about claiming her wherever I please, but it won’t be nearly enough time for what I want to do to her. I need more. I need all of her. Not to mention the fact that my injured body probably can’t handle this particular position of exertion.