I shrugged.
“Watch me.” Until she learned to love me and pledged all her love to me, I wouldn’t take any chances. Yes, it was morally questionable, but it got me through and it held my darkness at bay. If I lost her, I’d-
Yeah, it wouldn’t be good for the world.
Priest lost his shit and shot up. I did the same and before his big body could slam into me, I dodged him by shifting to the right. The sound of wood cracking, splinters protesting and the desk crumbled down.
Before he could do anything else, I grabbed his wrists and held my knee to his back.
Both Emory and Dante shot to their feet.
“Priest, she’s my wife. You’ll stay out of it,” I warned, my voice calm and cold.
“Not yet, she’s not,” he roared. He jerked his arm, uncaring if he dislocated his shoulder. It was one thing my cousins and I had in common. We’d cut our arm off, as long as we got to our goal. “Did you ask yourself if she’d be your wife if you gave her a choice?” Every goddamn minute of the day. “Pick another woman, not my sister.”
“She was mine before she was yours,” I hissed. “I love you, Priest, but I won’t let anyone stand in the way of me and my wife. Understood?”
Not heaven. Not God. Not the devil. Nobody would keep me away from her ever again.
“You men are fucking idiots,” Emory chimed in, annoyed and agitated. “We need to discuss tomorrow. And the fact that Father summoned you.”
“Agreed.” I glanced down to Priest. “Are you calm enough? Keeping Wynter and Emory safe tomorrow and my father away is our priority.”
Priest grumbled something under his breath but nodded. I let go, my body still not relaxed in case Priest lost his shit again.
He rose to his full height, brushing off the little specs off his suit. He was still pissed, it was evident in the tension of his shoulders, his tightened jaw and his darkened eyes.
“I’m calm,” he finally gritted through his teeth. “I’ll always have your back, Bas. But I’ll have her back first.”
I nodded. “Fair enough.”
“This is too much tension for me,” Dante announced, grinning like an idiot. “It’s like a soap opera.”
“I didn’t know you watched those,” Emory remarked dryly.
“I don’t, but the little glimpses of it I caught when you’re watching it was enough to relate.”
Emory flipped him the bird. “Maybe my brother and I will kick Priest’s and your asses. For old time’s sake.”
“You can try, cuz,” he drawled, smiling with a clear challenge in his eyes. I shook my head. We used to do those when we were kids. It always ended with someone’s broken bone.
“Okay, that’s fucking enough.” I slid my hands into my pockets and walked over to the wall with the Picasso painting. “I have to go see Father after this. If something happens, you two watch over Emory and Wynter.”
“I don’t need to be fucking watched over,” Emory hissed, her eyes flashing with lightning. I ignored her, focusing on Priest and Dante.
“I’m sure he got word of the wedding and wants to know where his invitation is,” Dante guessed the same thing that I thought.
“Don’t kill him yet,” Emory warned. “I know you want to, but it’ll bring a whole set of new troubles to us. To all of us and that won’t help Wynter. Just be patient, our time will come.”
Not fucking soon enough.
“Either way, he’s not coming tomorrow.” Over my dead body would he come anywhere near my woman. Or Emory. Or Wynter’s mother for that matter. My father fucking shot her and ruined her career. “Emory, you’ll stay with Wynter in the penthouse.”
“I feel honored,” she mused. “I get to stay in your secret penthouse.”
I ignored her comment. “If Wynter has a nightmare, just talk to her. About anything, keep your voice low and just talk.”
Three sets of eyes watched me with scrutiny I didn’t like. “Jesus, you’re whipped,” Dante broke the silence. “I mean, I knew it but I just didn’t know how whipped you truly were until this very moment.”