Page 83 of The Price of Forever

Kaylee’s and my names were emblazoned on the lobby wall in steel letters, a dedication plaque turned art installation, reminding every person that passed through the doors what—and whom—this building was for.

As dinnertime approached, Damian and Axel insisted on a family meal. Back at the penthouse, they unleashed a flurry of planning—texting Trace, calling Jessa, leaving a voicemail for Cora, waiting for the chef to call back about the menu options. Watching them execute this together felt like observing a practiced dance. Businessmen, who were also in-tune brothers, availing themselves of their resources to make things happen at the snap of their fingers. Part of me still couldn’t believe I was even here. And from the way they talked about it, I got the sense that they were desperate to relish every moment of freedom—because this upcoming SEC trial could very well take that away from them.

“I told Seven to come,” Axel mentioned off-handedly.

I grimaced. “He’s gonna be mad.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to calm him down,” Damian said.

“Whiskey and good food calms everyone down.” Axel pinched the top of my ear again as he sauntered toward the kitchen.

I almost added more but wasn’t sure what to say. I certainly didn’t want to admit that Seven and I had shared earth-shattering kisses several times, or that I’d ground against his barely-covered cock in the VIP room at work. I pushed the limits with Seven, but I didn’t want him to get fired—or lose his standing with his clients, my brothers. So I kept my mouth shut. It was better they didn’t know. Hell, it would be better if Seven and I just forgot about the whole attraction thing altogether.

Except that was impossible, when Seven was a hulking, gorgeous, witty man who felt safer than any person I’d met in my entire life.

Cora arrived first, greeting Axel with a quick but passionate kiss before immediately gliding over to me for a hug. I embraced her, taking a deep inhale of her sweet clementine scent.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she murmured, squeezing me extra tight before releasing me. I stared into her beautiful heart-shaped face. The sincerity radiated off her in waves. Her dark, glossy hair was pulled back in a low bun, and her sharp, black slacks and silk top suggested important appointments from the day.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” I admitted. And I meant it. Deeply.

Jessa showed up a bit later, giving Damian the same quick greeting before immediately soldering to my side. “I was so happy when Damian told me we were having a family dinner tonight. I’ve been wanting to talk to you about making you a dress.”

“A dress?”

“Yeah, ever since we met, I’ve been getting ideas for some cute dresses.” Her auburn hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves as she looked me up and down, as if she could see something I couldn’t.

“Jessa is a clothing designer,” Cora explained. “She’s been working with some big clients since moving to New York.”

My mouth rounded. That explained the gorgeous dress she wore at the last dinner, and the one she wore today, belted and flowy with long sleeves. “You made this?”

Jessa nodded excitedly. “I sure did.”

“If there’s something you want to make for me, I’m ready for it.”

Jessa clapped her hands, a grin lighting up her face just as Mercedes and Trace joined the party, a small blonde girl burrowing into Mercedes’s olive green sweater. There was a commotion of greetings, the little girl clinging tightly to Mercedes as they said their hellos, heading my way.

Jordan wrapped me in a side hug, the little girl leaning away from me as we embraced.

“I’m hoping these family dinners become regular with you in the mix,” she said warmly as Trace squeezed my arm with a smile. “This is Willow. Willow, can you say hi to your Auntie Jordan?”

Auntie Jordan. The phrase flashed through me like a lightning bolt. It was both endearing and terrifying. I could somehow play a part in the formation of a small child? It didn’t seem possible, not after I’d come to terms with the fact that I’d roam this earth for the rest of my life single, childless, orphaned.

“Hi, Miss Willow,” I said softly. She turned away harder.

“She’s shy around all men and anyone new. But she’ll warm up to you eventually. You have a knack for getting people warmed up,” Mercedes said with a wink.

“Strange, considering I’m dead inside,” I deadpanned. When Mercedes sent me a look that said come on now, I relented. “Okay, fine. I just pretend to be dead inside. Does she get along with Seven?”

“She’s shy around all men except him,” she said with a laugh, tossing her soft, blonde waves over her shoulder with a flick of her head. “She warmed up to him quickly. Just like she did Trace. Must be something about those two.”

I shut my mouth before I could incriminate myself. I didn’t need to tell anyone how quickly I’d warmed up to Seven.

While the room filled with the clamor of conversation and catching up, the chef arrived without much fanfare, other than my brothers shouting “Gaston!”. While he unfurled his leather satchel of knives on the kitchen island and started preparing dinner, I almost missed the newest addition to the party.

Seven.

He lurked at the edges, broad-shouldered in his black T-shirt. He had a few inches on Damian, and with his deadly serious face, he looked like a hulking, brooding murder machine as he conferred with Damian. His eyebrows were straight lines, nearly touching as he frowned and listened to whatever my brother was saying. I knew it was serious when Seven looked up, his gaze landing on me.

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