Page 46 of Gilded Princess

“She is, but I don’t know the Blue Knights like Wolf does. And we’re still not sure if all the events are tied together or coincidental.”

I hold up a hand, my brows scrunching in confusion. “Whoa, whoa. What events? The stuff with Lainey? And what’s the blue knights?”

He nods a couple of times, folding his arms across his chest. “The Blue Knights are an MC upstate.”

Panic bubbles up my throat, propelling me toward hysteria. “You shipped my sister off to wannabe Sons of Anarchy fanboys?! What the hell is wrong with you!”

“I can assure you they’re not wannabes. They’re the real deal—the one-percenters.” Matteo says it so casually, like he’s not ramping up my anxiety with each word out of his perfect mouth.

“That doesn’t help,” I growl out the words through clenched teeth. “I want to talk to my sister. Where’s my phone?” I hold my hand out, palm up. I didn’t see my phone earlier, and the last time I remember having it was to call Matteo.

He slides a phone that was hidden behind the fruit bowl across the island toward me. “Use this one. We had to disable your old one temporarily.”

“I copied your information over, but nothing that can geo-locate you. Your location has to stay hidden for now. Do not share where you are, under any circumstances.”

The unfamiliar voice stops me in my tracks. I turn to face the newcomer, my reaction time almost embarrassingly slow. “I don’t even know where I am,” I mutter.

“Madison, meet Dante Esposito. He’s family, and he’ll be hanging out with you while you’re here. I trust him with your safety, so I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you said if I stayed here I wouldn’t need bodyguards.”

“Think of him more like your friend.” Matteo leans back against the counter behind him.

I feel his stare on my face, but I’m too preoccupied looking at Dante and trying to figure out how a man his size can move so quietly.

I scan Dante from head to toe. He’s the same height as Matteo. His black hair is long on top, enough to grab a good handful to keep him right where you need him. It’s messy and tousled like he just rolled out of bed, but unless he sleeps in suits, that can’t be true.

The light gray suit looks like it was made for him, and judging by the kitchen I’m standing in, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a whole closet of tailored suits. Just like I’m sure Matteo does.

Dante’s dark-brown gaze is patient as I give him another once-over. There’s no question as to what I’m doing—I don’t think I could be subtle now if my life depended on it.

My face flushes with heat when Dante clears this throat. It’s a small, quiet noise, not one intended to embarrass me.

I trail my gaze up to his again, catching the edge of a tattoo peeking over his white-collared shirt. “Nice to meet you, Dante,” I murmur.

He nods, a smirk ghosting across his lips. “Madison.”

The low timbre of his voice coasts over me like a wave, slow and soft. I watch him for another moment. He moves around the kitchen with a level of familiarity that backs up Matteo’s family claim.

His muscles bunch as he grabs a mug from the cabinet next to the sink and makes a latte. The simple action is anything but as the fabric stretches along his back and around his biceps. Tattoos peek out from underneath his collar and shirtsleeves.

There’s something so alluring about a man who knows his way around a kitchen. And dressed like that? It’s like I just discovered a kink I didn’t know I had.

I look between the two men in front of me as I take another sip of my drink. I suddenly found two very big perks to staying here for a few days. There are far worse places to be than sharing a kitchen with these two. Wait until I tell Lainey. She’s going to love it.

“So how long are we talking? I need to stop at my suite to pack a few things.” My mind already beelines to a packing list of things to bring.

“You’re taking it all surprisingly well,” Matteo says.

“Well, considering my cousin is in a heap of trouble, I’ve decided that staying here temporarily might be a good idea.”

The truth is I leave here now, I’ll be alone, and I don’t think I particularly want to be alone right now. Lainey’s with her men and apparently my sister is living out some motorcycle club fantasy. Though, knowing her, she’s probably curled up in a chair with a book.

“Good. There are a few ground rules we should go over,” Matteo says. But my mind already shoved all the loneliness inside that box marked do not open and buried it deep. Now, I’m thinking about all the things I’ll need if I’m staying here for a little while.

I’ll need my normal skincare routine, my makeup bag, a few different outfits, some sleepwear—maybe even something skimpy. Oh! I have that lacy black piece I got with Blaire a few months ago. I’ve only ever tried it on, but I can just imagine wandering the house in the middle of the night and finding one of them in the kitchen. And then I’m bent over the island and—

“Madison? Are you okay?”

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