by Eva Ashwood
In the warm, buttery light of the lamps in his study, our wounds actually looked worse, not better—as if the contrast between our luxurious surroundings and our battered bodies only highlighted how gruesome we all looked.
“Hi, Dad.”
It was all I could force past my lips, and I truly didn’t know if the words were a greeting or a goodbye.
Why wasn’t I trying to stop this? Why wasn’t I putting myself in between him and the men who had invaded his home?
Because he doesn’t deserve it.
He doesn’t deserve my sacrifice.
The time in my life when I might’ve been willing to give my life to save my father’s was done. I wouldn’t pull the trigger myself, but the man in front of me felt so little like a father anymore that the innate impulse to protect my own flesh and blood barely raised its head.
“Mr. Van Rensselaer, we have a problem.”
Nathaniel’s deep voice drew my father’s attention, and his head snapped over to stare at the handsome, sharp-faced man. His eyes widened just enough that I was sure he knew who Nathaniel was, and I saw him register just how many guns were pointed in his direction.
This might all be captured on his security cameras, but that wouldn’t do him much good later if he died right now.
Slowly, Dad raised his hands in the air, holding them out in front of him in a defensive gesture. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t you?” The way the words fell from Nathaniel’s lips, they hardly sounded like a question.
“No, I—”
“Do you recognize these three men?”
Nathaniel gestured to the Lost Boys beside me. It struck me suddenly that he’d called them men, not boys, and when I glanced around at all three of them, I realized that’s exactly what they were. They had always been powerful and dominating, but as they stared down my father with cold hatred in their eyes, they looked every bit the grown men they were. There was nothing boyish left in their features, just pure masculinity.
“I—” My father broke off, clearing his throat slightly. Probably trying to buy himself time to decide whether to lie or not. But the way Nathaniel was posing the questions made it clear he already knew the answers, and Dad must’ve realized lying would be a quick way to lose this game.
He nodded, thrusting his chin out slightly in an expression I’d seen him wear dozens of times. Imperious confidence.
“Yes. I do know them. They tried to steal what belongs to me.”
A low growl rumbled in Kace’s throat, and I suddenly really wished he wasn’t the one holding the gun. Not for my dad’s sake, but for his. I didn’t want him to walk out of here with more blood on his hands, but a few more comments like that from my father, and I knew he’d have a hard time holding back.
“So you tried to have them killed? Is that right?” Nathaniel’s voice was still calm and even, almost bland, and when Dad didn’t answer after a few long beats, he continued anyway. “You put out a hit on three of my men tonight. As I said, that means we have a problem.”
Dad’s face paled slightly, a muscle in his jaw clenching. “They tried to steal my daughter! She’s engaged. I’ve made arrangements. I will not let three pieces of shit off the street drag her away from that.”
Ignoring that tirade entirely, Nathaniel raised his gun, leveling it at my father’s head. “I’m only going to say this once. Nothing gives you the right to come after me or my men. Have you forgotten what you owe me?”
My heart slammed against my ribs as I watched my father’s proud expression dim slightly. Yeah, he remembered. How could he fucking forget? No matter what Dad might claim about having had it under control, Nathaniel was the reason he was out of prison. The reason he was a free man.
Free to make deals with a devil named Luke Carmine.
Free to try to kill the men I loved.
He doesn’t deserve to be free.
“I could deal with this right now, in the manner most befitting an attempt on their lives,” Nathaniel went on, his finger tightening almost imperceptibly on the trigger. “An eye for an eye.”
My breath caught in my throat, and my heart felt like it was pumping so hard it might explode. A small trickle of sweat worked its way down Dad’s face, glinting in the lamp light.
“But…” The crime lord uncurled his finger, cocking his head to the side slightly. “…perhaps there are better solutions to be found. You did all this because you want your daughter to be married so badly?”
It seemed to take Dad a moment to find his voice, and when he did, it was rough and scratchy. “Yes. The marriage will ensure security for both her and her family.”
Nathaniel considered that for a moment, his head swiveling left and right as he took in all of us lined up alongside him. Then he turned back to my father and nodded.
“Alright. She’ll get married.”
Twenty-Two
It felt like the floor had dropped out from under me.
Like I was free falling through space.
Like I would fall and fall forever.
The world tilted in my periphery as I fought to keep my legs under me, turning to stare at Nathaniel with wide eyes and my mouth hanging half open.
What?
What the actual fuck?
On the drive over here, my overactive brain had gone through dozens of worst-case scenarios, up to and including the one where gunfire erupted and we all died.
But I had never imagined this.
After everything, after all that had happened, Nathaniel was going to let my dad go through with his plan? What, would he agree to let Dad marry me off to Barrett in exchange for a promise to never attack the Lost Boys again?
Before I could react or say anything, Nathaniel turned to Claudio. “A marriage connection to the Van Rensselaer family could be very beneficial. You asked what our partnership would be worth. I can offer you this.”
Claudio blinked, looking startled. “Marriage? I have no interest in marrying—”
“Not you.” Nathaniel shook his head, then shifted his gaze to Misael before looking back at Claudio. “Your son.”
My father made a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and a squawk. “What? I just told you I have no interest in letting her associate with trash like him! I will not—”
He didn’t get the finish his tirade. Claudio was across the room in three long strides, grabbing Dad by the thick, shiny hair he was so proud of and jamming the barrel of the gun under his chin.
“Call my son trash one more time.”
Claudio’s voice vibrated with fury, and a spark of something warm flashed in my chest. His response to defend his son had been instantaneous, and unlike Nathaniel, he wasn’t playing it cool and collected. It occurred to me that I should be more terrified that this man would shoot my father, and I searched inside my heart for the feelings I knew I should have, but I couldn’t find them.
Maybe the accumulated weight of everything I’d been through tonight was muffling my emotions, making it hard to process them. Too much had happened too fast for my brain to keep up with it all.
I had killed a man tonight.
I had let a group of dangerous criminals into my house to threaten my father.
I had been offered up in marriage to one of them.
That last thought stuck in the front of my mind, and even as I watched my father’s eyes go wide with fear, I repeated it over and over in my head.
Married.
Married.
Married.
But not to Barrett King. To Misael Alviar.
Claudio kept his grip on my father as he glanced over at Nathaniel. “You really think I want this fucker as my in-law?”
Nathaniel smiled. “I don’t expect you’ll be having many Sunday brunches together. But I think he could be a valuable asset.”
I could see my father twitch, as if he wanted to protest but knew better than to actually do it.
A valuable asset. That was what Dad had tried to t
urn me into by marrying me off to Barrett. Apparently, now that the tables were turned, he didn’t like how that shoe fit at all.
Claudio considered that silently for a moment. Then he finally released Dad, stepping back but keeping his weapon raised. He glanced over at Misael, who stood silent beside me. “Is this what you want?”
Misael’s body jerked slightly. He still looked a little ashen from blood loss, and I had a feeling he might be as shell-shocked from the emotional whiplash of the evening as I was. Instead of answering his father, he turned to look at me, his dark eyes intense and earnest. His gaze flicked up to the two boys on my other side, and I could see an almost tortured expression cross his face.
“Can we have a moment?” I asked quickly, angling my head to catch Nathaniel’s gaze. “Will you watch my dad?”
He nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Of course.”
Not bothering to respond to the outraged sound my father made, I grabbed the boys who stood beside me and hustled them outside. Moving quickly, I pulled them toward the sitting room down the hall, wondering if Mom was asleep upstairs, still utterly clueless about what was happening in the rooms below her. She’d be in for an unpleasant as fuck shock tomorrow.
As soon as we stepped into the sitting room, I flicked on the light. None of us sat—I was so wired I could barely stand still—and Misael and I turned to each other and spoke at the same moment.
“You don’t have to do this,” we both said.
I blinked, staring at him in surprise as I heard my words echoed back to me.
“Do you… not want to?” I asked slowly.
He licked his lips, opening his mouth and closing it once before shaking his head and trying again.
“Coralee, if we got married, you would be in this life. Not just around it. A part of it. Forever. That’s how this shit works. Once you’re in, you don’t get out. Especially not if you’re bound by marriage. I can’t fuckin’ ask you to do that. And besides, what about the shit with my dad and my mom? She almost got killed because of him. I told you I won’t let that happen to you, and I meant it. I can’t—”
“Misael.” I held up a hand, viscerally aware of all three of the men around me, feeling the heat of Kace and Bishop’s bodies as they stood close to me on either side. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you not want to marry me?”
His expression shifted, and I swore I could see his heart in his eyes.
His soul.
Everything about him that made him sweet and funny and protective and dangerous. It was all laid bare in the beautiful brown depths of his irises.
“Cora, I’d fuckin’ marry you tomorrow if I could. I love you.”
Tension I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in my body since the fight with Luke Carmine’s men—hell, probably since long before that—melted from my muscles, leaving me feeling lighter and more free than I’d felt in a long time.
Staring into Misael’s eyes, I realized that I didn’t have a single doubt. Not one. Not about his feelings for me, or mine for him. Not about my willingness to join the life he was destined to lead, to be a part of it forever.
I’d had plenty of time to think about what becoming part of the Lost Boys’ world would mean.
And I wanted that.
I wanted to be part of a world where people fought fiercely, but they loved fiercely too. Where I could be the person I had slowly been discovering inside myself these past several months. Where I could be with the three men who’d claimed my soul.
My hands found Kace’s and Bishop’s, gripping them tight, and I turned to look at the two boys on either side of me. “Would you be okay with this? It wouldn’t mean I love either of you less. I wouldn’t want it to change anything between us.”
Bishop reached up to run a knuckle down my cheek, ignoring the dried blood and dirt smeared over the back of his hand. His hazel eyes were impossible to read as he stared down at me.
“Fuck, Princess,” he said after a moment. “Everything Misael just said is true. We shouldn’t want this. By rights, we should make sure you stay as far away from us as possible.” At the look of panic that flared in my eyes, he caught my chin and leaned down to kiss me roughly. When he pulled back, a small smile curved his lips. “But I think we all know by now that’s never gonna fuckin’ happen. You’re ours. We’re yours. And we’ll burn down the whole world to protect you if we have to, but we’re not letting you go.”
“Even if I can only marry one of you?” I asked softly, my heart swelling in my chest.
“Will you love me less?”
“No!”
The word burst out of me, and Bishop’s smile stretched wider.
“Then I don’t give a fuck whose ring you wear.” Something in his expression shifted, a sort of possessiveness I’d never seen before. He shifted his grip on my hand, pressing my palm to my stomach with his larger one covering mine. “Besides, the thought of you pregnant with one of our babies? Of your belly round and beautiful with one of our little ones. Fuck.”
The last word came out as a groan, and he pressed his lips to mine as if he wanted to get started on making that happen right now.
My core clenched, and my stomach fluttered with excitement and nerves. I had always known I wanted children, but it’d been a vague wish, a dim idea with hazy details. But now, I could see it as clearly in my mind’s eye as anything tangible and real.
A little boy or girl with Bishop’s angular features, Misael’s caramel skin, or Kace’s moss-green eyes.
A baby that we would all love.
A child who would grow up more protected and cherished than any of us had.
When Bishop and I broke apart, I bit my lip, tasting him on my swollen, tingling skin. I nodded, and his smile grew impossibly wider. Then I turned to Kace, intent on getting an answer out of him too. I wouldn’t do this if any of the Lost Boys were opposed to it. I wouldn’t let something like this drive us apart.
But before I could pose the question to him, he hauled me into his arms and kissed me the same way he had back in the nurse’s office at Highland Park Academy. It was a kiss that said more than words ever could. A kiss that contained volumes.
But the one word it spoke louder than anything else was yes.
My hands clutched at his shoulders, and I felt Bishop and Misael close ranks around us as I drowned in Kace’s lips. Hands moved over me as three warm bodies surrounded me, and the truth of what this decision meant finally began to sink in.
I got to keep this.
I would never lose this.
The Lost Boys were mine.
Fully and completely mine.
Now that we’d made our decision, all I wanted to do was bask in it, to ignore the rest of the world and spend a week wrapped up in three strong pairs of arms.
But unfortunately, the real world refused to be put off.
After spending a few more minutes talking in low voices, the four of us headed back to my dad’s office, a united force with me at the center. The moment we stepped inside, I was sure everyone present knew what the answer would be. My father’s face stiffened, a look of anger and betrayal passing over his features. Claudio looked thoughtful, and Nathaniel seemed deeply pleased.
“It’s what we want,” Misael said seriously, his fingers tangling with mine as he spoke. “I want to marry Cora.”
“And I want to marry Misael,” I echoed, butterflies flapping wildly in my stomach.
“Good.” Nathaniel beamed. “It’s settled then.” He shot a glance at my father. “We’ll draw up the arrangements, and this will satisfy the favor you owe me. You will not cut Cora off as your heir or disavow her in any way, and you will not attempt to take the lives of her new husband or any of my men.”
My father’s nostrils flared, and his gaze shifted from Nathaniel to Claudio and back before he nodded. He might be a stubborn, heartless, and demanding man, but he wasn’t a stupid one. He’d clearly realized that he was out-matched and out-gunned. By tying my family to Claudio’s
, Nathaniel had effectively cut him off from buying any more help from Luke Carmine. Luke would see my father as an enemy now, possibly even a traitor, and he wouldn’t lift a finger to help him.
A flicker of something like sympathy rose in my heart.
In a way, I was using my dad the same way he’d been planning to use me. My wedding to Barrett would’ve been a political and economic arrangement, a business deal. I would’ve been stuck in a loveless, awful marriage for the rest of my life just so my father could benefit from it. But now, with my planned marriage to Misael, the tables were turned. The connections gained by this union wouldn’t benefit my dad at all. They would benefit Claudio and Misael, and by extension, me.
I could see Dad struggling against the inevitability of this, searching desperately for a way out of it like an animal in a cage. But there was no way out—no better option. He had been slowly painting himself into this corner ever since he had first contacted Luke Carmine, ever since he and Abraham Shaw had begun their game of betrayal and deceit. Everything my father had done was finally catching up to him, and as I considered that, the flame of sympathy in my chest sputtered out.
He would live.
He would survive like he always did.
But he would no longer have any power over me.
And I wasn’t even a little sorry about that.
Twenty-Three
If I thought the event planner my dad had hired to make arrangements for the wedding in July had been moving fast, well… that was nothing compared to how fast things moved after I agreed to marry Misael.
Nathaniel sent me and the Lost Boys upstairs to pack a bag, and it was agreed that I would stay with him and Josephine until after the wedding. I would’ve protested that I wanted to live with my boys, but since the wedding was planned for just one week away, I decided not to raise a fuss. Claudio was already making plans to secure us a house in a part of Baltimore where a lot of his crew lived, and I had a feeling he would have it all taken care of in just a few days.