At the elevator, Grey stops me and pushes a small black box into my hands.

  “What’s this?” I ask, a lump forming in my stomach as I stare down at the velvet jewelry box.

  “Open it.”

  I do, hating that my hands shake a little as I lift the lid. The diamond ring nestled inside is bigger than any I’ve ever seen and rips a small gasp from my lips.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s way too much,” I say, my stomach full of butterflies that clearly don’t understand the situation at all.

  It’s fake, I remind myself. Just like this relationship. So why do I care so much that he thought to buy me a ring?

  “It’s exactly what they’ll expect for the Giovanni princess.”

  “Right.” I shake off the feelings threatening to make me look like a fool and wait while he plucks the ring from the box and slides it onto my finger. It’s a perfect fit—which means absolutely nothing.

  I flash him a tight smile. “Good guess on the size.”

  He doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he pulls out a phone and presses it into my hand. “My number’s programmed in case you need anything. When you’re finished, Mia will deliver you here to get dressed, and then I’ll send a car for you at seven-thirty.”

  “You won’t be here when I get back?”

  “I have some things to take care of.”

  I wait, but he doesn’t elaborate, which is another reminder that I’m not his friend. Nor am I a trusted ally as he claims.

  “Fine.” I take the phone and shove it into my bag then step into the elevator. Turning around to face him, I press the button and note the deep frown he’s wearing. But I don’t meet his eyes before the door closes and he’s gone.

  Outside, a black sedan is parked at the curb. A male driver with graying hair smiles at me as I approach.

  “Miss Giovanni.” He holds open the back passenger door for me to slide inside.

  Mia’s already seated in the backseat.

  “Hey.” She takes one look at me and immediately zeroes in on the diamond. Not that you can miss it. The thing’s like a giant disco ball sitting on my finger. Or a sun with its own solar system. “Whoa. He went all out.”

  “I guess.” I slide my hand away, tucking it beneath the fabric of my pants.

  Her eyes narrow as we pull away from the curb. “Trouble in paradise already?”

  I cut her a look. “What paradise?”

  “Touché,” she says with a wry smile. “Indigo Hills is no destination retreat, I’ll give you that, but you haven’t seen our shopping district yet, either.”

  “I’m not much of a shopper,” I admit.

  She stares at me with a look of pure horror. “What blasphemy is this?”

  I shake my head. “I guess it’s just not my thing.”

  She pats my arm like she’s trying to comfort me. “Don’t worry, there’s still time to fix you.”

  I can’t help but laugh.

  Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up to the curb in front of a plaza that hosts several high-end boutiques whose names I can hardly pronounce. The area between them all is paved with a fountain in the center that is surrounded by benches and landscaped plants.

  “Come on,” Mia says. “We’ll start with Les Haut and go from there.”

  The moment we’re out of the car, she’s full steam ahead, leading me across the plaza like a woman on a mission.

  For the next hour, I’m whisked into and out of at least six different shops, each one more expensive than the last. Mia’s version of shopping is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. In the past, I’d always been very aware of what little money I have to spend and only chose places with cheap prices or huge sales. Since money was always limited, I never shopped in more than a couple of stores at a time. But I quickly learn that with Mia, shopping is a sport, and it’s all about endurance.

  Eventually, I must look exhausted enough for her to show me mercy, and we end up in a café eating Greek salads and sipping white wine.

  “My feet are killing me,” I groan.

  “But they’re going to look fantastic,” she points out.

  “True,” I admit.

  The black strappy heels she paired with the dress I chose at our last stop make a stunning combination. Even I can admit I look hot.

  “Now we just have to figure out your hair,” she says. “I can call in a favor at my salon. Alejandro would love to get his hands on your head and do a chop—”

  “Hold it right there. I am not chopping anything.”

  “Okay, okay.” She picks up her wine. “A blow-out then.”

  “I guess I could try that,” I concede.

  She stares at me. “Try it? As in, you’ve never had one?”

  I shrug. “Other than my friend Violet dressing me up for work, no.”

  Her shock melts into interest. “You really are nothing like the pampered princess they say, are you?”

  I snort. “Pampered is not a word you would use if you saw my life.”

  “What was it like?” she asks.

  I stare at her in surprise. “You really want to know?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “No one else has asked me that yet.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Not even Grey?”

  “No.”

  She mumbles something in a language I don’t understand.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. You were saying…”

  “Well, I live in a pay-per-week efficiency—”

  “Like a hotel?”

  “Motel,” I correct, smiling wryly at the small shudder she gives. “It’s not fancy, but it’s all mine, and that’s a step up from the group home where I was before.”

  Or my car before that.

  “What sort of group home?”

  “It’s a boarding house for orphans who’ve aged out of foster care and can’t rely on the state to pay for their housing anymore.”

  “Sounds nice.”

  I blink at her, taking a second to realize she’s being serious. “It’s not, trust me.”

  “And you worked at a club?” she asks, clearly not wanting to press further about my living conditions, which is fine with me. I feel zero shame for my past or for living where I did because, at the end of the day, I did it all on my own, and that’s something I’m proud of. However, one look at Mia’s world and I know there’s nothing I can say that will make her understand.

  At her question, though, I pick up my wine and smile teasingly. “You can say it, Mia. A strip club.”

  “Okay, I deserved that one.” She props her chin on her hand and leans in. “What is it like? Dancing for strangers?”

  I lean in too. “Want to find out?” Her eyes widen, and I laugh. “Just say the word, and I can get you in. Shady would love you.”

  “Is that your boss?”

  “Yeah, he owns the place and handpicks all the girls. He’d love a true redhead on his stage.”

  “Maybe someday.” She sits back, considering, which kind of surprises me, though the more I learn about her, the more I realize Mia isn’t just the shallow, rich girl. There’s a wild woman beneath her money and polish. “For now, I’ll stick to getting my kicks from shopping with you.”

  “You say that like you don’t get any thrills out of your life already.”

  “Risking my life to work against the alpha I’ve pledged my undying loyalty to is not exactly the thrill I’m looking for.”

  “What would happen if he found out we’re working against him?” I ask.

  “He’d kill us,” she says, her tone so matter-of-fact that I flinch. “But the idea of him running this city is enough to make me risk it. That and Grey.”

  For some stupid reason, jealousy flares inside me. “You care about him that much?” I ask, hating that I’m bothered by it.

  “I believe in him,” she says and then takes one look at me and adds, “Relax. I have zero interest in him that way. He’s not my type.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Oh, honey, your feelings are written all over your face. But don’t worry; it just means no one’s going to doubt this engagement or the two of you together.” She reaches across the table and pats my hand. “I’m happy he found someone, Lexi. And I’m happy it’s you.”

  I don’t bother to tell her my feelings for Grey aren’t mutual. Nor do I point out that, even if it were real, the only way we get to be together is if we go to war against our own families first. None of that should make any of us happy.

  “What was it like—growing up together?” I can’t help but ask.

  She looks thoughtful. “Hard. Demanding. Cold. We all had expectations from our families, and since our parents were all generals, we were thrown together a lot. Forgotten together a lot too. For a while, it was just me, Dutch, and Grey. Then, Ramsey’s dad got promoted, so he got stuck with us during meetings and outings. Razor came last, and he was already a package deal with Crow—not that we wouldn’t have taken him on his own.”

  “Grey said they have the same dad, but they’re not fully brothers?”

  “They are brothers,” she says, eyes flashing with irritation. She takes a breath and then, more calmly, explains, “Alvaro, Razor’s father, had an affair with Crow’s mom about a year after Razor was born.”

  “So, Crow having a different mom makes him an outcast?”

  “Worse. Crow’s mom wasn’t a general’s wife, and that makes both of them an outcast. Alvaro and the other generals refuse to recognize him as an heir and basically just ignore him whenever they see him.”

  “An heir to what?”

  She cocks her head. “Is Grey really not telling you how our basic hierarchy works? I thought you two made peace.”

  My face heats as I say, “We’ve been busy doing … other things.”

  “Ah.”

  Her smile suggests she’s not even surprised, which only makes me want to ask how the hell she knew before I did that Grey wanted me—or what else she knows that I don’t. Instead, I clear my throat and force my attention back to the conversation at hand. “You were saying? About Crow not being an heir?”

  “Right. It’s a stupid scandal that shouldn’t even matter in this millennium, but here we are. Being a general is an inherited title in our pack, which means someday, Ramsey, Dutch, Razor, and I will all become one.”

  “But not Crow.”

  “Not under the current leadership.”

  My heart aches for what it must have meant to be rejected by his own family.

  “I know how it feels,” I say quietly.

  Mia reaches across the table and squeezes my hand then releases it quickly. “You’re one of us now, just like he is.”

  I smile at her, feeling a stirring of friendship that I sincerely hope I can trust. “Thanks.”

  After lunch, we get our nails done, followed by my hair, which thankfully involves zero cutting or chopping. Alejandro oohs and ahhs over my hair and skin tone until Mia takes mercy on me and gets me out of there.

  We’re just leaving the salon when I nearly run into someone.

  “Oh, sorry.” I step back quickly and look up to find a familiar golden boy smiling down at me.

  “No apology necessary. It’s my lucky day to run into such a beautiful woman—even if she’s done it literally.”

  “Hello, Ramsey.”

  “Ram, what are you doing here?” Mia asks.

  “I had an errand out this way, so Grey asked me to look in on you two. How’s the shopping going?”

  “Great,” Mia tells him.

  He eyes us, confused. “But you don’t have any bags.”

  Mia rolls her eyes. “Everything’s being delivered to the apartment. Why would we carry it ourselves?”

  He meets my eyes, smiling. “Indeed. In that case, do you need a lift home to get dressed?”

  “Oh.” I check the time, realizing it’s getting late already. “Sure, but I think Mia was going to…”

  He turns to Mia. “I have to run over to pick something up for Grey anyway. It’s no trouble.”

  Mia shrugs. “Sure. Saves me a trip.”

  “You sure?” I ask.

  “Totally.” She reaches over and kisses my cheek. “Knock him dead tonight, girl,” she whispers in my ear.

  I grin back at her. “That’s the plan.”

  She waves and traipses off toward a jewelry store, leaving me alone with Ramsey.

  “Shall we?” he asks, and I fall into step beside him.

  I expect him to have his own car and driver like the others, but he leads me into the parking garage and over to a sportscar I’ve only ever read about in auto magazines.

  I stop when he pulls open the passenger door for me.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Is this the new Lykan Hypersport?” I ask, staring at the sleek black paint job with silver accents.

  “Yeah, you know cars?”

  “Only the fast ones,” I murmur, lightly running a hand over the hood before sliding inside. The white leather bucket seats are soft as butter beneath my skin. After buckling, I stare at the dashboard, which is lit up like a gaming console.

  Ramsey climbs in beside me and starts the engine with the press of a button. The purr is music to my ears.

  “This is yours?” I ask him.

  “Birthday present,” he says as casually as if he’d been gifted a pair of socks.

  “This is one of the most expensive cars on the market,” I say. “And the fastest. Off the line, it beat out every single one of its competitors.”

  “Then I guess it better be fucking fast, huh?” He winks and backs out of the space, revving a little before pulling quickly into traffic. “So, how do you know so much about Panthers?”

  “Sometimes, on the weekend, I go to the magazine aisle and just read.”

  He glances at me and his expression shifts. “You’re serious. Why?”

  “I like cars, and I didn’t have anything better to do.”

  Or any money.

  “You’re an interesting person, Lexi Giovanni.”

  “Lexi Ryall,” I correct automatically before realizing he’s right.

  Thankfully, he doesn’t argue.

  Traffic makes opening up the engine impossible, but I still enjoy the drive and the car. In fact, I’m so distracted by it that it takes me a while to realize we’re not headed back toward Grey’s apartment.

  “I think we’re going the wrong way,” I say when I begin to recognize the high rises of the business district.

  “Nah, just a shortcut.” Ramsey doesn’t look over.

  I feel a strange prickle of unease run down my spine. “What did you say you were doing at the plaza?” I ask.

  “Just running an errand.” He glances over, his expression strangely blank. “What a coincidence, right?”

  “Right,” I echo, my pulse beginning to speed up as we make another turn that takes us farther away from the apartment. Pulling my phone out of my bag, I pull up Grey’s programmed number, still trying to appear casual. “I’m just going to call Grey and let him know.”

  Ramsey snatches the phone from my hand before I can hit the button.

  I stare at him, fear replacing suspicion. “What are you—”

  “No calls,” he says in a voice I’ve never heard him use before.

  “Ramsey, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

  His expression is tight as he grips the wheel. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

  But he doesn’t sound sorry, only desperate.

  “For what?” I press. “What’s going on?”

  We pull to a sudden stop, and I look over just as Ramsey says, “He only wants to talk to you; he swore to me.”

  I don’t have to ask who Ramsey is referring to. Outside my window, I spot a familiar alley. It’s long and narrow, running the length of the block full of buildings, each one tall enough to scrape the sky except for a squat, two-story restaurant smack in the middle of the block. There’s no sign back here, but I remember escaping through this very alley just a couple of days ago.

  Dead ahead is Altobello’s.

  “Ramsey, what the hell are you doing?” I ask, heart thudding now.

  His voice is grim as he says, “Get out of the car.”

  “Ramsey,” I try again.

  He squeezes his eyes shut like he’s in pain. “I didn’t have a choice, all right?”

  “Did they threaten you? Grey can protect you. He can—”

  “Get out of the fucking car!”

  29

  LEXI

  Fully aware of just how screwed I am, I do what Ramsey says and get out of the car. He doesn’t follow like I expect him to, though, and the moment I realize I’m alone—that idiot thought I was stupid enough to think I’d just walk willingly down this alley and into that back door—I run. My shoes are a hindrance, so I kick them off, sprinting past pedestrians as I flee blindly toward the safety of the main road. As if safety exists anywhere in this city. My sense of direction is immediately lost, but I keep going, knowing I need to get as far from here as I possibly can before—

  A hand grabs me from behind, lifting me clear off my feet.

  I scream, kicking wildly against the solid wall of muscle currently holding me hostage in an iron grip. The pressure around my ribs is so tight it’s hard to breathe, but I manage another scream anyway. A hand clamps over my mouth, and I catch the scent of a musky cologne, the scent so strong he might as well have bathed in the stuff.

  Dom.

  I’d know his version of overdone luxury anywhere.

  “Shut up, and stop fighting,” he orders, his irritated voice in my ear confirming it’s him.

  With a hand over my mouth and another around my waist, he holds my back against his chest as he carries me down the street toward the front of the restaurant. The front doors loom like the gates of Hell, and I have the distinct feeling that, if I go through them, I’ll never come out again.

  Fear grips me then.

  Redoubling my efforts, I manage to land a kick that makes Dom grunt, but it’s not enough to loosen his hold. Around me, pedestrians stare as they pass, but no one stops him or even comments on the kidnapping taking place right before their eyes.