Would she want a nanny?

  No. I wanted our kids raised strictly within the famiglia. If we had a girl and she took after Rhiannon we’d need a goddamn bull trainer on standby. I think Brianna would be a good fit for that role. Look, now I was getting ahead of myself.

  I rolled my shoulders and flipped Joey’s file shut. I had some time to kill before we left and more than a few things to prepare for tomorrow as well as some emails to respond to. I did a quick check of the surveillance system to see what Rhiannon was doing and found her in the hall just outside of our room.

  Her casual attire made her look right at home. I watched her for a few seconds just to see what she’d do. Thankfully making a run for it didn’t seem to be on her agenda. She wouldn’t make it off the property and that wasn’t how I wanted the guards to meet her.

  They were to stay out of sight out of mind for the most part. Her trying to escape would really fuck that up. She seemed to be heading for the kitchen. My principessa still loved food. This was one area I knew I could win in without argument. I’d have fresh buffets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner if it meant seeing her smile.

  I wanted her to do it all the time. She would need to learn how to despite her new living arrangements. When I said that I would destroy her world and then collect all the shattered pieces so that I could rebuild it, I left out how it would be crafted in the form of an elaborate gilded prison.

  With my very own bloodstained hands, I was going to make sure she stayed by my side until we could be placed in a mausoleum together. If there was a one out of a billion chance what we had wasn’t enough to keep her grounded, I would have an urn fit for a queen engraved with her name.

  Once her body was burned and poured inside, I’d place it on the mantle across from our bed. She’d still be with me until my life came to an end and my ashes were ready to be mixed with hers. There was no chance of us going to heaven or hell so we might as well be burned and cast into the void together.

  I’m sure many men found themselves in this position. At the end of the day, I was doing what was best for Rhiannon, and in turn, doing what was better for me. Everyone would win in the end.

  Everything would come full circle. It always did.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The hallway seemed infinitely long. Silence stretched from one end to the other.

  Barefooted and dressed only in sweats with the camisole I’d worn beneath my long-sleeved top, I started to retrace my steps from the night before.

  A potent aroma of peppers and onions wafted through the air and hooked my taste buds. I let it guide me to what I imagined would be the kitchen. I wanted to walk right out the front door and never look back, but I had to operate with logic in place of the emotions pushing for me to act recklessly.

  I think I was doing a decent job all things considered. I’d forgotten my bag in the car last night and in it was my cellphone and wallet. That was one of many issues for me to deal with.

  Before figuring out my next move I needed to see what was going on with Audrey. I didn’t know where to start searching for her. With more than a few reasons to avoid any extra run-ins with Judas, wandering through his house didn’t seem like a wise thing to do.

  He said she went with Gavin. I wondered if he lived here too. I couldn’t picture either of those two happily cohabitating with another man, but what did I really know about them anymore? Even in high school Gavin and I had been acquaintances at best. He wanted my best friend, and I wanted his. Judas was a different matter. He’d always be painfully familiar to me.

  He was the beautiful boy that claimed all my meaningful firsts, things I would always remember and never forget.

  He had consumed me.

  We were bad together, yet so, so good. He was an addiction I couldn’t help but be addicted to. Choosing to leave him crushed me. The day I walked away was hell. It was like abandoning a large part of myself. Somehow, I managed to do it without falling to pieces. Wouldn’t that have been irony at its finest? Shattering right in front of the person who helped break me.

  Days turned into months that eventually became years and as the seasons changed, I would reflect on our tumultuous relationship and the family that I once adored. The memories bled through in painful flashbacks cloaked in a vignette.

  I’d just managed to semi-successfully block it all out before Judas came around to shoot all my efforts down.

  Maybe one day I would sit with a professional and deal with my calamity instead of running from it. The glaring problem with that was their advocation for transparency.

  What if I was asked how this all began? I’m sure lying defeated the whole purpose of treatment and I couldn’t exactly tell the truth. I wasn’t sure revisiting the night I helped bury a body before losing my virginity would win me any sympathy points. A trip to the local police station or a psych ward was more likely.

  I made my way down to the first floor and navigated the wide-set halls until I reached where the smell of food was amplified, and sizzling filled the air. I paused at the sight that greeted me. I’d been expecting the luxury. In a house like this, you didn’t skimp on the kitchen.

  What I wasn’t prepared for was a giant, grizzly bear of a man in an apron, wielding a spatula like a machete.

  Audrey was here too, seated at the center island, with a loaded dish in front of her. Two Dobermans lay still as statues a few feet away. If they were guard dogs, they had done a piss poor job of holding down the fort when we first arrived. Other than a slight twitch of their pointed ears, neither paid me any attention.

  I looked away from them and studied the man in front of the large stove. His head turned and a pair of bright brown eyes met mine from over a broad shoulder.

  “There you are. I was wondering when you’d show ya face.”

  I blinked, caught off guard. His voice didn’t match him at all. The man looked like he bench-pressed minivans for fun but sounded like a cultured Billy Porter, who was amazing in his own right.

  With his flawless dark skin and long, wavy hair in a tight ponytail, I think he was from one of the islands.

  “Come on now, don’t be shy. You’re hungry ain’t you? Sit.”

  I eyed the Dobermans and took a few cautious steps further into the kitchen. “They won’t bite me, will they?”

  The chef waved me off with a smile, flashing one gold tooth.

  “Romeo and Juliet don’t attack unless their master commands it or somethin real bad is going down.”

  The dogs barely blinked at the sound of their names. They kept their heads low and ears alert, sleek bodies poised side by side. It looked as if they’d launch into action as soon as they heard the word go.

  They were gorgeous.

  Probably psychotic too.

  Just like the man who owned them.

  The origin of their names wasn’t lost on me. Leave it to Judas to find the dark humor in everything. When both dogs finally looked at me but showed no signs of getting up, I relaxed and went to the barstool beside Audrey.

  “Hey,” she greeted with forced cheer and a tight smile. “You, okay?”

  “Is that rhetorical?”

  “Give me just a second and I’ll have your breakfast ready,” the chef butted in.

  “Oh, I would’ve been fine with cereal.”

  The man froze with the spatula halfway to the cast-iron skillet and slowly turned around. “Don’t disrespect my kitchen like that. Cereal for breakfast? Girl.”

  “Not a fan of Lucky Charms then?”

  The cook hmphed and returned his attention to the skillet he was standing over. I smiled at his playful mannerisms. It was nice to see Judas didn’t have James Bond doubles lurking around every corner.

  I looked over at Audrey who seemed keen on avoiding my gaze, focusing too intently on her stack of half-eaten pancakes. She’d been uncharacteristically silent since Gavin and Judas showed up at our apartment. It was starting to piss me off all over again. If she wanted to paint herself guilty, she was doing a bang-up job.

  “Audrey.”

  “I know. We need to talk. I just…” She tucked a strand of damp blonde hair behind her ear and shifted in obvious discomfort.

  “You just what?”

  Her hazel eyes found their way to mine. She had done a complete 180 from when she’d been walking out the door of our apartment laughing loudly. This situation was clearly taking a toll on her, but I didn’t have it in me to conjure any sympathy.

  I kinda wanted to knock her ass off her seat.

  I couldn’t for the life of me understand why she would do anything that benefited Judas. The interaction between the three of them didn’t give me any reason to believe she’d been threatened into being an accomplice. That made me question the why even more. She was always adamant I move on and try to let go of the past in order to heal.

  What changed?

  Or maybe that was all lies too.

  Only a few drops of blood stopped us from being sisters. She’d been in my life for over a decade. I couldn’t picture my world without Audrey and now my heart was screaming at me to keep her away from me.

  Her pound puppy expression drove into my psyche like a hammer did a rusty nail. I loved her, I did, but this wasn’t something that could be ignored or laughed off.

  “Goddammit, Audrey.”

  She flinched as if I’d struck her and bit down on her lower lip. I tore my gaze away from hers and homed in on the white marble countertop.

  “Can we talk later, please?” she asked quietly.

  “So, you can spend the day thinking of ways to explain your colossal fuck up?”

  “Rhia.”

  She sounded pitiful. Why the hell was she playing the role I should’ve been? I took a quick breath to calm myself. I couldn’t do this with her right now. I wasn’t going to be able to sit here and have a level-headed discussion.

  “You’re right, later is better,” I stated dismissively.

  She nodded and picked up her fork to pick at her plate of food some more. The chef continued what he was doing, respectfully minding his business.

  When he turned around again it was to present me with the best-looking omelet I’d ever seen. He slid it in front of me along with a fancy linen napkin and silverware.

  “One bite of this and you’ll never think cereal is a reasonable request again.”

  “I’m starting to think you have a personal vendetta against it.”

  “Miss ma’am, that’s nothing but sugar cocaine. You don’t need to be ingesting that nastiness.” He shook his head in a show of dramatized disgust. “Mr. Barron agrees.”

  Mr. Barron?

  Wow. Wasn’t Judas all grown up?

  I had half a mind to question how this man knew I loved omelets stuffed with cheese and peppers, but the answer was obvious, and I was starving. Plus, this looked too good to waste and was providing a much-needed distraction. Something to focus on other than hurt and rage and loss.

  I grabbed my fork and cut into a corner of a perfect, golden fluffy fold. Beneath the chef’s watchful stare, I stuffed the bite into my mouth, and immediately a savory flavor with a hint of spiciness seduced my taste buds. I glanced up and couldn’t help but laugh a little at his knowing grin.

  “Thank you. This is delicious.”

  “Thanking me isn’t necessary it’s my honor to serve the lady of the house.”

  Ugh. That was a quick way to spoil good food and kill any chance of lightening my mood.

  “I’m not--.”

  “Would you like OJ or water? Almond milk?” He moved away and walked towards a pair of glossy white double doors with brass handles that turned out to be the refrigerator. He pulled the right door open and grabbed a brand of orange juice I wasn’t familiar with.

  “Mr. Barron had this imported for you.” He carried it over and gently sat the bottle beside my omelet along with a round glass. “I should have introduced myself first thing. My name’s, Makoa. You can call me Cookie.”

  I wasn’t touching on the OJ topic. Calling this big man Cookie was ten times more interesting than Judas going out of his way for my dietary likes and needs. At least, I was going to pretend it was.

  “I sense a story behind that.”

  He smiled brightly. “I will share it with you another day. Eat. You have to leave soon.”

  “Leave? Do you know where I’m going?”

  “That is a surprise I wouldn’t dare to ruin.”

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “You’ll love this one.” He smiled again before turning away to begin cleaning up his mess.

  My hunger fled as a heaviness settled in my stomach. If that was meant to reassure me, he failed epically.

  I studied my reflection with a slight twist of my lips. Someone had taken the time to place a little black dress and box of shoes on the bed for me while I was downstairs.

  It was classier than anything I’d worn recently. The long sleeves were nothing more than delicate scraps of lace attached to a bodycon silhouette with a V neck center and cutout back.

  I turned from right to left and tugged at the solid black material to try and cover more of my chest than the dress wanted to allow. It immediately created another issue. Hitting just above my knees as tight as it was didn’t leave much fabric to spare.

  Not getting anywhere, I sighed and finally gave up, twisting around so that I was facing the large mirror head-on. I’d gone through the motions of showering and then somewhat piecing myself together.

  I had no desire to look runway-ready, but I also refused to walk around resembling something from a zombie apocalypse. Having firsthand experience with what that looked like, I knew it was not a pretty sight to behold.

  When I had finally pulled myself out of the dark hole I’d been wallowing in a few years ago, I couldn’t help but cringe at what I saw.

  It had taken me forever to get the tangles out of my long hair and about fifty showers to remove the feeling of grime from my skin. I made a promise to myself after that, to never get so low that I returned to such a fragile state of mind.

  If only I could travel back in time. I would shake old me by the shoulders for getting to that point, to begin with. Things had gotten rough, but everyone in the world went through shit. Not a soul on this earth escaped this thing called life unscathed. We all had our traumas and pain to deal with. I hadn’t really gotten around to doing that yet, but I did have it in the baggage I was carrying. That had to count for something.

  A knock snapped me out of my self-reflecting reverie. With one last look at myself, I turned and headed for the bedroom. I was glad that the dress didn’t rise up and expose my ass as I walked.

  I didn’t want to wear the damn thing at all but both the doors I pegged as closets were locked. Short of hunting Judas down for what would be a pointless argument, or redressing in my clothes from yesterday, this was the easiest option.

  I knew how to pick and choose my battles. One of the large bedroom doors swung open just as I stepped back into the room. My duffel bag appeared, but the person carrying it remained in the hall and out of sight. I was wondering when it would show up again.

  “Are you decent?”

  “Does that matter when you’ve already opened the door?” I walked to the bed and lifted the lid off the large, orange-ish-colored Louis Vuitton box.

  Gavin stepped through the partially opened doorway and gave me a quick once-over.

  “If there’s one thing, I’m sure of and two for certain it’s that no other man should be seeing what’s meant for Judas’ eyes only.”

  I wanted to ask if he was being serious, but I knew he was. I guess we were going to pretend Diego hadn’t been lying in bed beside me less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “If you say so.” I studied the mesh peep-toe pumps with confliction. I didn’t care much for designer brands, but I had to admit they were gorgeous.

  Gavin approached slowly, his steps measured and purposeful as if I would turn and attack at any second. The duffel bag was set on the foot of the bed and then he stepped away.

  “What’s missing?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question.”

  He said that so politely, I lifted my head and finally looked at him.

  I wasn’t used to this mature, older version of the cocky kid I’d known at Pesadilla prep. He was so manly and wearing another suit…professional. Trying to picture him with Audrey wasn’t nearly as difficult. They would look just as striking beside each other now as they were then. Even their loyalties seemed to align these days, go figure.

  “From the bag,” I clarified, motioning towards the duffel.

  “It was taken as a precaution. We can’t have you roaming around with any weapons. That would be dangerous for us and you.”

  “But my phone and wallet are still inside?”

  He laughed lightly and offered me a genial smile. “I like you, Rhiannon. I always have, so I’m going to clue you in on something you seem to be missing.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Think of it as a friend helping a friend.”

  “Gavin.” I sighed and crossed my arms, “We aren’t friends.”

  His head jerked back in mock offense. “Of course, we are. You’re marrying my brother. We’re damn near family.”

  I stared at him blankly. This is what happened when you lived in the land of delusions. Judas would have to physically chain my ass to the alter and force an “I do” out of me at gunpoint for us to be wed. Then again, he would probably get a kick out of that.

  “Well, thanks for bringing me my bag,” I said dismissively.

  “Rhiannon.” His voice was low, the tone gentle.

  I knew right then I definitely did not need or want to hear whatever he was about to say.

  “You know he’s been planning for this day since before you walked away.”

  “Bullshit.” The denial came swift but behind it was begrudging acceptance. I just couldn’t let myself admit anything out loud. Then it was validated.