Page 153 of Juliet & Her Romeos

Spend this week relaxing. Enjoy getting to know Benedict and Vito.

Be happy.

Romeo, Romeo, Romeo!

Miss you already.

I clutchthe note to my chest over my Soul Mark.

When I concentrate on Ambrose, I grit my teeth at the sharp distress that slashes through the bond.

What’s happening in these meetings?

My eyes narrow.

There are secrets here.

I still haven’t discovered what’s happened to Mom.

I should press Ambrose about Nova, but he’s been in England. He likely won’t know, and I’ll be putting him at risk from Olivia, if I push him to find out.

I know that if I ask him to, then he will.

I trust him in that.

I’ve learned with Swan that sometimes protecting protective men, meansnotimmediately telling them when you’re hurt…or need their help.

Swan, Vito, and Ambrose, are similar in more ways than they’d like to admit: they have volatile, dangerous, and self-destructive streaks.

It makes them powerful, but if they burn down the world to protect me, then they could also burn themselves along with it.

I swing myself round on the bed, before slipping my feet into my fox slippers that are ranked next to it. My toes curl happily in the slippers’ softness. Then I snatch up my dressing gown from where I dropped it on the floor last night (Ambrose has become used to Vito’s messiness, and I’m reveling in no longer having rules to follow).

I shrug on my dressing gown, before strolling out of the bedroom in search of my mates.

It’s quiet in the long corridor of the mansion, but I can hear strange sounds from downstairs.

Cautiously, I edge down the sweeping staircase toward the raised voices and the roar of engines.

My brow furrows in confusion, as I cross the elegant foyer.

Finally, I push open the high, oak door that leads off from it on one side.

It’s the lounge, and one of the grandest rooms that I’ve been in.

The domed windows with violet drapes look out over the back stone terrace and gardens. The high ceiling is molded with roses around three chandeliers, which drip with blooming petals of light.

A roaring fire under a marble mantel crackles, making my eyes sting with blooming smoke.

The walls are a burned gold like the antique armchairs and couches.

There’s only one modern thing in the entire room: A giant television that’s attached to the far wall with a range of gaming consoles.

Sitting on the floor underneath and yelling loudly like their lives depend on the outcome of their game, are Vito and Swan.

They both look more casual this morning. Something about that pulls on my heart.

Swan is dressed in a gray polo neck and jeans. I’ve never seen him in comfortable clothes like this.

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