Page 89 of The Wrong Fiancée

DEAN

Palm trees swayed lazily in the afternoon breeze, and the sound of waves crashing against the nearby shore mixed with the laughter and conversation of my family scattered around the pool area.

It was one of those rare moments where everything felt…settled.

Everyone was here.

Damian and Emilia sat at one of the shaded tables, laughing as their son Leo splashed around in the shallow end of the pool with Solène. Her parents had disappeared, I believe, to find some privacy. We were all steering clear of the house—no one wanted to hear them go at it.

Mom reclined on a lounge chair, wearing her wide-brimmed hat and oversized sunglasses, looking every bit the glamorous matriarch she was.

Elsa had managed to convince our mutual friend Thierry and his girlfriend Angela to join the Archer family holiday. I'd suspected those two were going to get together, and they had. There had been a few fights, with Thierry demanding Angela quit her job as an escort and Angela telling Thierry that he couldn't tell her what to do. Ultimately, she did quit—though she declared it was because she was done and not because the man shewas in love with asked her to. I think the truth was somewhere in between.

Angela and Thierry were talking to Moana, who was a lawyer and had, incidentally, worked as an escort to pay for school. Damian and Duncan knew Moana better than I did—but she settled in like she'd always been part of the family.

I watched Solène leave her cousin and run up to Elika who wrapped her into a hug. My niece was talking up a storm, and my girlfriend listened intently with a soft smile on her face.

"Are you dreaming about having babies with her?" Dante, who'd joined us, asked as he settled into the lounger next to me.

"We have time." There was such luxury in saying those words because fuck, yeah, we had all the time in the world. We'd just started dating, but we weren't starting from scratch; we were starting from a place of positivity—because we already knew how to deal with conflict between us and how to talk about issues as and when they arose.

All relationships were different.

Damian and Emilia bickered—that was their foreplay.

Duncan worshipped Elsa, who would bend over backward to take care of her husband.

Thierry and Angela were playful.

"Speaking of time, I'm running out," Dante declared.

"So, you're marrying this Italian village belle?"

"He's dying, Dean." There was a wealth of sadness in Dante's voice. He loved his grandfather, who had all but raised him because Dante's father was an asshole who should've been neutered—instead, he had three children with three different women.

I patted his shoulder. "Why don't you meet this woman?"

Dante nodded. "I go back in a couple of days. We'll see what happens. Now, let's forget all the serious talk,si?" He rose and picked up his surfboard. "I'm going to hit some waves."

I watched him walk toward the beach, not sure how to help him, considering the situation he was in.

Elika's bright laugh distracted me from my friend. She wastickling Solène, and it was fucking adorable how those two got along. Solène called Elikatatie, auntie in French.

She looked so natural, soright. Like she'd been a part of our family all along.

Damian wandered over, his glass in hand, a grin on his face. "Not bad, huh?" he said, gesturing to the surrounding scene. "Who knew we could get the whole crew together without someone losing their mind."

"Give it time," I smirked. "The week's not over yet."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "True. However, with Moana here, things might actually get interesting. You know, she and Emilia love a bit of chaos."

"Moana?" I raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think she was the family gathering type."

Damian shrugged, taking a sip from his drink. "Took some convincing. Between Emilia and her, I get a complex for having family money. They look down on me, calling me an entitled asshole."

"I've heard that one before," I submitted. "Elika isn't enamored by our wealth."

"It would suck if our women wanted to be with us because of the money."

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