He reached out and gently skimmed his fingers across my cheeks before taking hold of my jaw.

  “You’re beautiful too. If I didn’t want you to stand by my side so badly, I’d lock you inside our house and never let you out so that only I could look at you.”

  I sensed what was coming next and did nothing to avoid his soft lips when they brushed against mine. His kiss was firm, but not demanding. It wasn’t the way I’d fantasized when I dared to think of touching him intimately again.

  It was over before I could come to my senses or anything happened. He pulled back with a contemplative look on his face that was quickly masked as his hand fell away. It felt like we were picking up right where we left off.

  In a way, I suppose we were. The experiences we had during the last few years merely contributed to the people we’d become. They didn’t erase the past we shared or the tumultuous bond that tethered us together and refused to break.

  I swallowed and turned away from him, fixing my sights on the large home again. Two additional luxury cars were parked in the roundabout, both unoccupied. The SUVs that had followed us the whole way here hadn’t appeared yet. They were either gone or taking their sweet ass time to get this far.

  Without a word, Judas got out and just like before, came around to open my door. I undid my seatbelt and joined him outside the car. Thanks to the trees surrounding the Italian-style estate the temperature seemed a few enjoyable degrees cooler.

  Judas pushed my door shut and made no attempt to move out of my personal space. All I smelled was his masculine scent. I wanted to lean in and press myself against him, but I resisted the urge to find comfort in his embrace.

  “What do you think?”

  I looked towards the house. “It’s pretty.”

  “This was once a vacation home but my madre fell in love with it so the whole place was renovated and made the main residence shortly after she got pregnant with me.”

  “You’re speaking a language I don’t understand. Vacation home? Main residence?”

  He glanced down at me. “Give it time and you’ll be fluent.”

  And entertain his idea of us living a lavish life together? I drew a breath and exhaled it in a short huff. “Let’s just get this over with, k?”

  Moving away from him, I successfully made it a few steps before he was right back by my side. He grabbed my lower arm and forced me to stop walking. “We’re doing this together.”

  His fingers skimmed down the inside of my wrist, softly skating over my palm as he weaved them between mine and held me tight.

  “Now we can get this over with.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  I had no idea what to expect walking into this house. Now that Judas had hold of my hand, I didn’t want him to let go. I used it as a source of strength. Pretty ironic given the situation but it is what it is. I preferred walking into hell with the devil than all by myself.

  “You’ll do fine,” Judas reassured me with a soft flex of his fingers.

  “You know I just remembered your dogs are named Romeo and Juliet and seeing as how you teased about their tragic love story years ago, that isn’t very reassuring.”

  He released a short laugh and pulled me closer to his side. “That’s where their names came from. Us. Not that stupid fucking play.”

  “Some people would be very offended by you disrespecting such a classic. I’m glad to know you don’t have some weird tragedy kink, though.”

  “Romeo and Juliet were two over-dramatic idiots. We’re much more compatible than them.”

  “Are we?” I half-joked.

  “Our story might be fucked-up, unorthodox, and somewhat bloody but it is ours. We’re going to have a happy ending, just not the traditional kind.”

  There was no time to give a response. The large mahogany door swung open, and we were met by an older gentleman with sandy brown hair flecked with silver. He was wearing a dapper gray suit and tie with a pastel blue undershirt.

  I immediately thought of a butler, but I wasn’t sure if those were still employed in modern times.

  “Young Barron,” he greeted warmly, a wide smile causing the crows-feet around his green eyes to bunch together.

  Young Barron? I shot Judas an amused look. The man moved aside to grant us entry into a circular foyer that showcased how beautifully preserved the interior of the home was.

  “Otto,” Judas returned the man’s greeting in a surprisingly affectionate tone and stepped into the house with me.

  Otto pushed the door shut and then looked at me with his welcoming smile still in place. It didn’t seem forced, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. I learned the hard way to expect anything from anyone.

  “You must be the notorious, future Mrs. Barron.”

  I opened my mouth to dispute that, but Judas had been expecting this and swooped right in.

  “Otto, this is my Rhiannon Saldana.”

  It was jarring to hear that name out loud and associated with mine so casually. I wasn’t sure I would ever be comfortable with it. If things went Judas' way I wouldn't have to be. He seemed convinced I was going to be his wife and apparently so was everyone he knew.

  Otto’s green eyes swiveled between the two of us and his smile morphed to one of delight. “She is as beautiful as you’ve always sworn.”

  “She is,” Judas replied with unmistakable pride. He lifted our still entwined hands and placed a light kiss on the back of mine.

  I didn’t feel particularly ‘beautiful’ right then.

  The dress was killer, and the shoes were made to grab attention, but all I’d done was the bare minimum to primp. I’d left my hair free to dry and applied a dab of lip-gloss after putting on vanilla-scented lotion.

  “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Otto said to me.

  I couldn’t dredge up a sincere reply, so I forced a smile instead. It was impossible to hate the guy on sight just because of his association with the Barrons. He seemed like a sweet old man. That was exactly how I knew he was quite the opposite when necessary.

  The sound of high heels moving at a rapid pace across polished hardwood had me diverting my attention to a long hall directly off the foyer. A raven-haired woman with porcelain skin came sashaying around a corner, making a beeline for where we were standing.

  For a second, I thought she was the sister, Maisie, but the second I realized she wasn’t young enough and her bright blue eyes came into focus, one of my worst fears became a reality.

  I wasn’t ready for any of this, but meeting Judas’ parents was on a whole other level of hell no. If she was here, then his father probably wasn’t too far behind. Sure enough, a clone of Judas followed not a full two seconds after her.

  His long stride had him easily matching his wife’s quick pace. He wrapped an arm around her waist to slow her down and whispered something close to her lips as they finished approaching us together. The move was similar to the one his son just made outside reminding me that this was the man Judas more than likely took after.

  I mean, in looks, clearly.

  But what about brutality?

  I briefly considered turning around and walking my ass right back out the door, but a voice in my head had me deciding against it. For what reason should I be afraid of these people?

  Sure, they were terrifyingly powerful and could have the worst kinds of torture inflicted upon me, but what would be the point in doing so?

  I didn’t have anything left to take.

  My life was more valuable to me than it would ever be to them. I had no vital intel to share. If they wanted to break my spirit before sending me to an unmarked grave, they would be sadly disappointed because I wouldn’t let someone harm that part of me ever again.

  None of those things aligned with Judas making me his wife, though. That’s what ultimately solidified my decision to stand beside him and mask the unease I felt from being in their home.

  His mother smiled at me as she and her husband drew closer, and it completely transformed her doll-like features. The few images I’d seen online didn’t do this gorgeous woman an ounce of legitimacy.

  She was shorter than I imagined, a few inches below me and I was far from tall. Her slightly wavy hair almost reached where her pretty chiffon dress flared around her hips.

  His father on the other hand was Judas from the future with sexy, freshly shaved stubble and eyes so piercing that if I hadn’t found the steel in my resolve, I would’ve immediately moved his son in front of me as a shield.

  He and his wife were stunning together. No wonder Judas was so fucking gorgeous. His parents were genetic perfection. I couldn’t remember how old they were, and it wasn’t obvious by looking at them. His mother was rocking her little black dress and could easily pass as a green heiress.

  That would make his father the wealthily refined bachelor that would swoop her up—and had.

  Of course, there were some holes in this wild tale of mine. I knew they had their sliding scale of legal endeavors, but that didn’t take away the lifestyle that went with building and fortifying a criminal empire.

  “It’s about damn time he brought you home,” his father proclaimed with a Colgate-worthy smile. Looks like good teeth ran in their family too.

  The genial expression brought out a deep dimple on his right cheek. I had overheard him on the phone with his son but in person, his voice was more cultured and distinct. It was also weirdly similar to Judas’.

  “Zacharias Barron,” he suddenly introduced himself as if he’d read the question on my mind. A hand bearing the legendary rose tattoo came out in an offering.

  Judas finally relinquished his hold on mine so that I could accept.

  His wife looked up at him and then over to me as if searching for something. I slowly slid my palm against his feeling a tad apprehensive.

  “We know who you are, dolcezza,” he stated as gentle as his hold on my hand was.

  Judas had just called me that in his driveway. I needed to learn Italian and probably Spanish because my ancestors wept whenever I showed off my limited vocabulary.

  “Don’t say things like that. You’ll scare her away before she even settles in,” his wife chastised.

  He let go of my hand and peered down at her. “Was that not welcoming enough for you, Cara Mia?”

  She waved him off and stepped forward, skipping all the stiff formalities.

  She wrapped her arms around me in a hug that could only be described as motherly. “We’re so glad you are finally back, Rhiannon.”

  Her tender tone and affectionate embrace gave me the sudden urge to cry for the second time that day. I couldn’t remember the last time the woman who masqueraded as my mother had hugged me because she wanted to. It plucked a cord of pain I never allowed myself to dwell on. My ‘parents’ did a superb job of fucking me up mentally.

  “Oh, right.” She released me with a soft laugh and stepped back the slightest bit. “I’m Gemma, you call me Gem though alright?”

  Without waiting for me to answer she turned towards Judas and practically launched herself at him. He hugged her tightly, the smile on his face partially obscured by the angle he had to bend at to return the embrace.

  “It’s always a good day when my baby boy comes home.”

  Judas straightened and looked down at her with a small grin. “I just saw you a few days ago.”

  “She could see you three times a day and it still wouldn’t be enough,” Zacharias remarked.

  “You might consider moving back in,” Otto added jokingly. He’d been happily watching our interaction in silence until now.

  Gemma released her son and glanced over her shoulder at Zacharias. “I don’t know what you just said, but I’m going to pretend it was something for my benefit.”

  I didn’t understand what she meant by that. He hadn’t exactly whispered.

  He reached out and pulled her back to him. “Isn’t everything I do now for you?”

  She beamed as if she’d just received the highest of compliments.

  Not in my wildest dreams did I think this day would ever come, me bearing witness to how saccharinely sweet Judas’ parents were.

  Is that what he and I looked like? I doubted it. We were always at each other’s throats before fucking ourselves mindless. Maybe that’s why something about this dynamic made me envious.

  I didn’t like that feeling.

  At all.

  “I agree with your Madre, my son can never visit enough,” Zacharias said. Then to my utter surprise, he too embraced his son with that one-armed hug men tended to do.

  I expected this man to be a total hardass with the asinine belief that showing your son affection, and vice versa, would cause them to be weak.

  “Now, enough of this mushy shit. Come, the others are waiting to meet the newest member of the famiglia.”

  Did he just say others? Zacharias turned away with his wife and they began to head back towards the long hall.

  “Judas,” I hissed with a mix of anger and panic.

  “No need to fret, Miss Saldaña. Like the madam has said. Everyone has been waiting for this day,” Otto soothed.

  He really reminded me of an elder grandfather without all the white hair. I would bet money he had an abundance of wisdom to share. As a man working for the Barrons, there was no doubt in my mind he had certainly seen some shit go down.

  Me, seconds away from having a breakdown, wasn’t one of the memories I wanted him to add to his arsenal. Just because I refused to show these people my fear didn’t mean I was ready to go waltzing into their domain with Judas as my only means of protection.

  He agreed with Otto and slipped his arm around my waist to propel me forward.

  “I’ll make it up to you later,” he promised quietly.

  I quickly disguised my scoff with a cough. It gained a backward glance from his father, but at least I hadn’t blurted out a rebuttal to fucking his son. He probably already thought we were banging like bunnies after their earlier phone call.

  “That’s never going to happen again.”

  “Never, huh?” He leaned down and practically purred in my ear. “I do enjoy a challenge.”

  His deep voice sent tingles of awareness dancing up and down my spine. I fought against the urge to squirm away from him. Feeling my face start to flush, I rolled my lips together and decided to focus on the hall we were in. The walls were lined with various shots of butterflies and a few family photos placed strategically.

  The closer we got to where we either had to turn a corner or enter a room of some kind, the tighter the knots in my stomach became. I could hear soft-spoken voices now, signifying whoever was in there didn’t want to be heard.

  “I’m right beside you, principessa,” Judas reassured me again. There were no traces of the playful banter from seconds ago in his voice. I looked up at him and nodded.

  His parents stepped through an arched doorway and with us being only a few steps behind them I barely had any time to steady myself for what could be waiting inside.

  Much like their family crest, I felt like I was about to step into a lair filled with scorpions. At any second those lethal stingers could strike me with poison.

  As I feared, a small group of people waited inside a great room. They were all lounging about on the fancy furniture.

  When they saw Judas and me their conversations ceased, and all eyes came to rest on the two of us.

  “Stop staring at her like she’s on display,” Zacharias ordered in a far colder tone than he’d used to greet me.

  “Calm down before you have a stroke ya old bastardo. We’re curious about our new kin, that’s all.”

  This came from a man sitting in a plush, deep blue armchair. Referring to Zacharias as old had to be a running joke between them. For starters, I got the impression he wasn’t a man you would freely jest with unless you knew you’d survive long enough to get away with it. Plus, he looked to be about the same age as him, and with that uncanny resemblance, he was for sure a relative.

  “That’s my fratello, Ricciardo,” Zacharias introduced and then quickly translated. “My brother.”

  “Famiglia calls me, Rico,” he shortened with a wide grin. “My wife and daughter thought it would be best to meet you when you’re more settled in, but my son and daughter-in-law have joined me.” He gestured to another Estee-Lauder commercial couple that was sitting together on the armchair’s matching loveseat.

  The girl couldn’t have been much older than me. She had pin-straight brunette hair and insanely pretty eyes, one brown and the other a peculiar mix of green. The man with his arm around her had to be yet another Barron.

  He had their signature dark hair and silver eyes, although from where I was standing it looked like his had flecks of blue in them. He was naturally tan like the other men in the room with more tattoos than Judas. The girl at his side was sporting a few herself.

  “I’m, Nova and this is, Rhys,” she introduced both of them with a smile.

  “Her husband,” Rhys added good-naturedly.

  “Yeah, my husband,” Nova reiterated with a playful roll of her eyes.

  I hadn’t noticed it before but now that he mentioned they were married, the ring on her finger became impossible to miss. It was a unique stone with a matching band that seemed to fit her despite me not knowing the girl at all.

  “And I’m sure you can guess who I am,” a sing-song voice carried from the far side of the room.

  Maisie Barron. She was the spitting image of her mother with her father’s eyes. I was starting to feel sorry for Gemma. Her genes had almost won this round. The two of us hadn’t ever spoken to one another before, but it was clear she knew more about me than I did her.

  They all did.

  Standing in a room full of people who were well aware that the ones who raised me were trash-ass humans wasn’t exactly comforting. This was clearly a tight-knit family and Evie and Marcus had hurt one of their own. I couldn’t wrap my head around them being so accepting of me. It was suspicious.

  “Are we done with the grand entrance now?” Ricciardo asked. “Can we eat?”