“I don’t care. Give me that meeting, and I’ll pretend whatever you want. Engagement, marriage, whatever. When it’s over, I walk away, and you can sit on your little mafia throne in peace.”

  He steps back, dark gaze flashing with something that looks like disappointment. “You think that’s what I care about?”

  “I have no idea what you care about, but I know it’s not me.”

  “Lexi.” He exhales. “That lap dance… I’ve never done that before.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  He nods, wincing. “I know.”

  “Right, I forgot. You stalked me beforehand. Had to make sure I was vulnerable enough to fall for your tricks.”

  “No, I— Fuck, you’re stubborn.” He grips my upper arms. “Haven’t you wondered how it’s possible that you’re related to an alpha wolf shifter and yet you can’t shift yourself?”

  The question throws me off. It’s not a jab I expect, but it’s too logical to ignore.

  “Maybe,” I hedge, wary about why he’s bringing this up now.

  “Look, the reason I asked you for the dance was to sense your wolf, and I needed to be close to do that.”

  “There were other ways to get close,” I snap.

  “Maybe, but I shouldn’t have had to get close. Most wolves can sense each other a mile away. Your wolf is barely noticeable from a distance, and I needed to know for sure. The lap dance isn’t something I planned, but once it started…”

  He shakes his head, his hands releasing my arms. Suddenly, I desperately want to know how that sentence ends.

  “Once it started,” I prompt.

  He opens his mouth just as his phone rings.

  Scowling, he slides his phone out of his pocket and steps back as he presses the phone to his ear.

  “Yeah?”

  He listens for a few seconds then says, “I’ll buzz you up.”

  He ends the call and looks back at me.

  “I’ll see what I can do about a meeting,” he says.

  My heart squeezes. For reasons I can’t even name, his agreement feels like a rejection. On top of that, he never finished his sentence, and I’m dying to know what he would have said. But I nod and simply say, “Thank you.”

  He starts for the elevator and the keypad beside it but then pauses and turns back.

  “All this,” he says, gesturing around us, “Bringing you here, playing their games, that was for duty. But the dance… Lexi, that was all for me.”

  15

  GREY

  By the time the elevator opens to reveal a freshly-showered Dutch, Lexi has stomped off to her room. It’s just as well. No good will come of her pushing me about that stupid fucking lap dance. The worst part is that I don’t regret it, even though I know I should. I wasn’t lying either. At the end of the day, she’s right. I could have found another way to get close enough to sense her wolf, but I chose that stupid fucking dance. And I did it for one simple reason: I wanted her, even if for only a minute. The worst part is I actually thought a minute would be long enough.

  Fuck.

  “How’d cleanup go?” I ask Dutch as he steps off the elevator.

  He goes straight to the fridge and takes out a beer. “You want one?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  He shuts the fridge and crosses to the couch. Sinking onto the cushions with an audible sigh, he cracks the can and lifts it to his mouth for a long sip. When he’s done, he says, “Razor and Crow are finishing up, but I stayed back long enough to make sure we were in the clear.”

  “Thanks. All I need is my old man hearing it from someone else that we carried out a sentencing without him.”

  He grunts because we both know I’m playing a dangerous game by not telling him what happened with Trucker tonight. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have dared keep something like this from him, but my time away changed me.

  Hopefully, it didn’t make me stupid. Because if he finds out I put Trucker down without consulting him, there’ll be hell to pay. I should worry about such a payment, too, but watching him go after Lexi like that…

  I didn’t think, I just acted.

  Now, all I can do is minimize the fallout.

  “How’d it go here?” Dutch asks.

  His gaze flicks to the hall.

  “Dropped the girl with Mia,” I tell him.

  “And your guest? How is she feeling about nearly getting her throat ripped out?”

  I sigh as I sink into the chair beside him and lean my head back so I can stare up at the ceiling. There’s a tiredness in me that has nothing to do with missing a night of sleep. “Fine.”

  “Doesn’t sound very fine. Is Her Highness giving you trouble again?”

  I snort and look back at him. “When is she not?”

  He grins. “Babysitting duty not your speed, eh?”

  “She wants a meeting with Franco,” I say, running a hand through my hair as I straighten. “In exchange, she’ll play the part of doting fiancé.”

  The grin vanishes, and he whistles. “Gotta give it to her, she’s got balls for wanting to be in the same room as that fucker.”

  “She’s naïve,” I snap. “She has no idea what she’d be walking into.”

  “So, tell her.”

  “I tried. She doesn’t believe me.”

  “Or she doesn’t care.”

  I glare at him. “Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours, bro, but think about it. She has no family. No idea who she is to any of our kind. All she has is the word of a stranger and a prick who tried to kill her for her troubles. Makes sense she needs to hear it from Franco himself.”

  I glare at him. “What are you, her therapist?”

  “I’m just saying that I can see her side. Besides, have you seen those legs of hers?” He winks. “I’ll be whatever she wants if it gets me on her good side.”

  The hot stab of jealousy his words provoke is instant and guttural. I snarl, springing out of my chair when he throws both hands up and leans away.

  “Whoa, the fuck.” His eyes are wide until the moment I manage to force myself to ease back again. My breaths are heavy and quick, my heart pounding.

  Dutch relaxes only to lean forward, eyes narrowing instead. “You want to tell me what the hell that was?”

  I huff out a breath, nostrils still flaring at how hot my blood is pumping.

  “I don’t know,” I say darkly. His brows lift, and I flip him off. “Stop looking at me like that.”

  “Stop acting like a jealous mate, and I’ll stop looking at you like one.”

  “Now you’re trying to rile me up.”

  “I’m trying to figure out why you just went ape shit over the princess.” He speaks slowly, letting me know he’s being serious rather than fucking with me some more. And that somehow makes it worse. “And there’s still the matter of you going rogue tonight.”

  “Trucker had it coming.”

  “That may be, but we both know he didn’t have it coming from you. Not until he went after her.” He frowns. “What’s really going on with you, man?”

  I don’t answer.

  It’s not that I don’t trust Dutch. He’ll have my back, no matter what. But what he’s asking… I’m not ready to admit it to myself.

  Avoiding his gaze, I get up and head for the fridge, changing my mind about having that drink. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  The lie doesn’t convince either one of us, but he lets it go.

  My phone dings with a text that I ignore. A second later, my phone rings, but I ignore that too.

  Dutch looks at me pointedly. “You gonna get that?”

  “Nope.” I crack my beer and take a swig.

  Dutch just stares at me, clearly waiting.

  “It’s Ramsey,” I say.

  Dutch’s brows lift. “You two feuding or something?”

  “No. The opposite.” I take another long drag of my beer. The longer this day gets, the more I think alcohol is the answer. I drop back into my chair and look at Dutch, who is clearly waiting for an answer. “He’s been calling nonstop since I got back. They all have.”

  “They missed you. What do you expect?”

  “That’s not it, and you know it.”

  “I don’t know shit.”

  I glare at him. “You’re a lying sack of balls.”

  He shakes his head. “Dude, you should talk to them. After you left… I know you can tell shit’s different now than it was.”

  “We’re all different,” I toss back.

  “The squad isn’t the same frat boy party crew it used to be.”

  “You trying to tell me you, Ramsey, and Razor don’t still burn it down?”

  “Sure,” he shoots me a grin I recognize all too well. That smile has led me into some dumb shit over the years. Just thinking about it makes me shake my head. “And Crow still picks us up when we’ve had too much, the little homebody. But we want more than booze and ass in our future, man. Ramsey’s calling you because he knows you do too.”

  “That’s the problem.” Dutch starts to reply, but I cut him off. “I was only supposed to come back for this one last favor. Now, I’m dragged into the middle of his fucking war, which is what he wanted all along.”

  “You got anything better to do?”

  He wants to see if I’ll choose my other friends over him. I won’t. My time with Levi taught me a lot. Training to be a soldier made me stronger and wiser. Less likely to rush into danger like I did the first time. But they aren’t my pack, and even if I hadn’t been dragged back here, they never would be.

  Dutch is my pack. He knows it too.

  “The Hills aren’t all bad,” he says when I don’t answer. “And this place needs you more than you think.”

  I don’t know how to respond to that, so instead, I drink until the can is empty and Dutch’s words are no longer ringing in my ears.

  When I’ve drained my beer, Dutch keeps watch, letting me catch a short nap, but even after I wake, Dutch informs me Lexi hasn’t come out of her room once. For some reason, that only sours my mood further. I consider going to check on her, but my pride refuses to be the one to step onto her turf. Not that her bedroom—in my family’s apartment, no less—is her turf, but it feels like giving in somehow, so I don’t.

  Instead, I take out my phone and use my family’s private concierge app to order her some clothes. My father had promised to send some over, but I have a feeling it’s not exactly high on his priority list. I consider calling Mia, but she’d only bitch at me for avoiding her calls, and that’s not a conversation I want to have. I wasn’t even sure she’d show up for Claire last night, considering how badly I’ve ghosted her, but Mia’s not the type to take out her feelings on the innocent.

  I sigh because that’s exactly what the fuck I’ve been doing to Lexi.

  Maybe getting her some clothes will help tip the scales somehow. The sizing questions throw me off until I’m reminded how little she wore during that dance, grinding her sexy body against mine. I never put my hands on her, but I can remember clear as fucking day what it felt like to have her pressed against me. Using the memory to pick out sizes and styles, I smile to myself. If some of these items are a little snug on her, I won’t mind it at all.

  When I’m finished, the delivery service replies almost instantly to my request, letting me know they’ll have the order sent over within the day. I spent years avoiding this life and all the expectations that came with it, but for the first time in a long time, I appreciate the perks. Having clothes delivered means I’ll get to see her face when she opens the packages, and the thought of making her even a little bit happy makes me want to grin like a fucking lunatic.

  Grabbing the remote, I decide a distraction is in order. Anything to keep from wondering what the hell she’s doing in that bedroom. And to keep from wanting to go find out for myself.

  Mia texts me a few minutes later.

  The girl’s settled and safe. Her parents don’t know.

  I text her back, thanks.

  A second later, my phone dings again. Is your girl settled and safe?

  Me: I’m not doing this with you.

  Mia: You’re being a bitch.

  Me: So are you.

  Mia: You’ll pay for that.

  Me: I’m not scared of you.

  Mia: It’s not me you should be worried about. Ramsey wants to know why you’ll text me and not him.

  Groaning, I toss my phone aside and refuse to look at it again.

  I’m halfway through an old James Bond movie when the elevator dings to signal a visitor. There’s only one other person on the planet who can get past my guards out front, but I check to be sure. Grabbing my phone, I pull up the camera in the parking garage through my app and groan.

  “Dutch,” I say, tapping his shoulder as I push to my feet. “Wake up.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Boss is here.”

  He sits up, instantly alert. “What’s he doing here?”

  “No idea. Go into my room, and make sure Lexi doesn’t come out of hers until he’s gone.”

  He gets to his feet. “Yeah, man. I got it.”

  I snag the empty beer cans and chuck them in the trash as Dutch slips down the hall and into my bedroom, closing the door behind him just as the elevator doors open and my father steps into the apartment.

  “I’m starving, so this won’t take long.” He greets me with barely a glance.

  “If you’d let me know you were coming, I could have had some food sent over—”

  “No need.” He waves a hand, striding past me into the living room and over to the floor-length windows that overlook the city. White, puffy clouds float by in a baby blue sky, but he doesn’t look at the view. He only looks at his own reflection, smoothing his mustache before turning back to me.

  “Well?” he demands. “Have you convinced the little bitch to see things our way?”

  My hands twitch at my sides, wanting badly to clench into fists. But my dad’s sharp eye misses nothing, and I force myself to chill the fuck out. She’s not mine to protect, I remind myself.

  “She agreed to go along with the engagement on the condition that we let her meet with Franco first.”

  He laughs humorlessly. “Absolutely fucking not.”

  “If it gets her—”

  “She’s in no position to make demands, least of all something completely fucking insane. Hell no.”

  “She has only our word that she is who we say she is,” I tell him. “If she can hear it from Franco himself, I think it’ll—”

  He stalks over and gets in my face. “You think it’ll what? Make her feel better?”

  “It would be easier to have her cooperation in this,” I say quietly.

  “Cooperation?” he snaps. “Are you crazy? Have you been gone so long you forgot what it felt like to be played?”

  “She’s not playing me.”

  “And what about Franco, huh? You think, if we let her walk in to see him, he’s going to let her walk out? That old fuck would sooner kill her than let her be used by me.”

  His words are truer than he knows, but I’m not about to tell him Franco’s already tried taking her off the board once.

  “We brought that girl all the way here to use against the old man, not to hand her over to him,” he adds.

  I should let it go. He’s made his position clear, and he’s not someone that changes his mind. Five years ago, I would have stopped here. But today, I push.

  “I’d put countermeasures into place designed to remove her when her time is up,” I say. “She wouldn’t remain in his custody.”

  “Bullshit,” he snaps, stopping his pacing to glare at me. “You’re talking about an outright battle right there in his fucking headquarters. He would see it as an act of war.”

  It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes at that. “Kidnapping his granddaughter was already an act of war—”

  “I’ve made my decision.”

  I turn away before he can see the fury in my eyes.

  “Now,” he says, his tone smoothing out and becoming way too calm, “what is this I hear about Trucker missing?”

  I don’t let myself react. “First I’ve heard of it.”

  “My sources tell me he was informing for Franco.”

  Swiveling back to face him again, I say, “So do mine.”

  “Any confirmation on that?”

  “Not yet.”

  His eyes gleam, which is not at all how I expect him to be taking the news of a rat in our ranks. “Guess he did our job for us by telling Franco we had his princess.”

  I shrug and say, “Guess he did.”

  He scans the empty bar with suspicion. “You have any more trouble with the princess?”

  “Nope.”

  His gaze flicks to the hallway toward Lexi’s bedroom, and my heart thuds harder at the idea that he might go check on her himself. I ordered Dutch to make sure she didn’t come out but didn’t say anything about not letting my father in. Still, something tells me Dutch won’t hesitate to step in front of that door if my old man comes that way.

  It’s not a confrontation I want though.

  “She’s quiet,” he comments.

  “Yeah.”

  “Got her ass tied up, eh?” he asks, arching a brow at me in amusement.

  “She’ll do what she’s told,” I say tightly.

  He grunts in agreement at that.

  “I better head out. Got a lunch meeting with the generals to talk about coordinating the next steps once your engagement is announced. You two be ready to go tomorrow night. I’ll send a car.”

  The way he says the words—so casually—lets me know this fucked up engagement was his real plan all along. I’m just the last to know.

  “Fine,” I mutter.

  He starts for the elevator, pushing the call button. The doors slide open, and he steps inside then turns to look back at me.

  “And Grey? Don’t fuck this up.”

  I don’t answer as the doors close and he disappears.

  When he’s gone, I stalk over to the bar and pour myself a shot then immediately down it. The whiskey burns, but I welcome it against the rage crawling its way up my throat. One more minute, and I’d have unleashed it on the asshole.