Page 47 of Thorns of Lust
“I’m glad to see we’re all on the same page.” I buttoned my jacket. “Gentlemen.”
They remained seated as I turned to the door. Marchetti was on his way out too. Maybe he’d also had enough of this shit.
“Romero will fall in line,” Marchetti said once we were outside. “He worries about his eldest due to her disability.”
I didn’t envy him. Having daughters was a worry that never went away. Romero had no male family that would protect his girls once he was gone. It made them more vulnerable, and it didn’t help that they were oblivious to this world.
“He needs to consider wedding one of them to someone powerful,” I said. “Before he keels over.”
“The disability of the oldest daughter makes it hard to arrange a marriage,” he admitted. “And his youngest is a cheerful rebel. A breed of her own. Stubborn.”
“Aren’t they all,” I retorted dryly.
Coincidentally, Romero’s daughters attended the same boarding school as Isla back in California. The three bonded and went on to attend the same college in Paris. His youngest one was twenty-one or so while his eldest was Isla’s age. Twenty-three and deaf.
“Romero is entertaining arranging a marriage between his youngest and Dante Leone.”
“Bad move,” I answered dryly.
Enrico watched my face, his eyes narrowed on me. “Why?”
I raised a brow. He should really observe the younger generation more. “Dante has a temper. He doesn’t need to marry a hellion, but someone that will calm him down.”
His eyes narrowed. “Well, do you have a candidate for Reina?” I kept my mouth shut. They’d find out soon enough. It was Amon’s battle to wage. “I know it’s not you,” he remarked dryly. “Not after you vouched for the Morozov woman.”
I gritted my teeth. I hated hearing that last name attached to Tatiana. I stopped by my waiting car and turned to face Marchetti.
“Just a fair warning,” I started, locking eyes with him. Usually I towered over people but Marchetti was as tall as me. We stood eye-to-eye. Right now, I’d love to tower over him though. “I will take any attempt at Tatiana’s life as a direct hit at me and my family. And my revenge will be swift and brutal. Just ask the Yakuza asshole who dared to get close to her.”
He studied me for a moment. I didn’t give a shit if I revealed too much. I wanted it known whose wrath they’d have to endure if they touched a single blonde hair on that woman. I was the only man allowed to touch her.
“Why do I feel like you have a plan for the Yakuza?” Marchetti remarked wryly.
A cold smile touched my lips. “Actually, I’m only assessing and assisting where needed. Someone already had a plan going. I’m speeding it along.”
Marchetti’s lips curved into a smirk and he extended his palm for a handshake.
“Good. I’m looking forward to it.”
This was the reason the two of us worked well together.
* * *
The next morning, I woke up in my Paris home to loud music and a killer headache.
“What the fuck?” I grumbled, jumping out of bed, and pulling up a pair of pajama pants. I never knew who’d my sister have over and having girls barely in their twenties gawking at me in my boxers wasn’t on my agenda. Like fucking ever.
I left the bedroom and followed the sound of voices all the way to the dining room.
Surprise, surprise. I hadn’t seen my twin brother since my last trip to California. He’d been hiding and conniving, probably making some fucked up mess that I’d have to clean up.
I entered the dining room to find Maxim and my baby sister Isla sitting at the long dining room table, along with four of Isla’s girlfriends - Phoenix and Reina Romero, Athena Kosta, and Raven Jameson. And damn if they weren’t drinking alcohol. At fucking breakfast.
They hadn’t even noticed me walk in. In a dark mood already, I strode over to the stereo and shut it off.
The silence followed. Awkward. Tense.
“Illias!” Isla cried out, jumping to her feet. She ran towards me and threw herself into my arms. “I thought you decided not to come when you didn’t show up yesterday, so the girls and I are just hanging out.”
