Chapter 15
RENéE
Keeping my cool was a losing battle with my brothers hovering around me, each one managing to look smugger and more insufferable than the last. It wasn’t just a habit—it was a talent.
“You guys really didn’t have to come all the way here,” I said, rolling my eyes so hard they should’ve filed a complaint.
Ezio smirked over the rim of his ridiculously overpriced coffee. “Oh, we’re not just here for you, dear sister. This is business.”
“Right. So, if it’s a problem, feel free to ignore me,” Hael chimed in, not even bothering to glance my way as he leaned back in his chair.
I turned my glare to Aeros, who slid a bowl of ice cream in front of me like it was some kind of peace offering.
“You looked grumpy,” he said with a cheeky grin, like catching me mid-scowl was his greatest achievement to date.
I groaned, stabbing the ice cream with my spoon. “And you needed to rent a whole penthouse for a week to annoy me?”
Ezio snorted. “Rent? We bought it.”
“Of course, you did,” I muttered, taking a bite of the ice cream. At least they were smart enough not to get between me and dessert.
When the bowl was empty, I pushed it aside and stood with an exaggerated sigh. “Thanks for the ice cream and the headache. I’ll be on my way.”
“Hold up. Where do you think you’re going?” Aeros asked, stepping in front of me with his usual annoying smile—but this time, it felt a little sharper around the edges.
“Home,” I said, trying to sidestep him.
“Not so fast,” he said, his grin slipping just enough to make me pause. Aeros, looking serious? That couldn’t mean anything good.
“What’s going on?” I asked glancing around the three as I crossed my arms.
Hael straightened, his expression all grim. “It’s getting harder to keep up the reputation of the family with the crime rates in the city dropping. Father’s losing patience.”
I raised a brow. “And this has to do with me how?”
“And,” Hael continued like I hadn’t spoken, “you’re twenty-nine now.”
I shot him a look sharp enough to cut glass. “Thanks for the reminder.”
Unbothered, Hael plowed on. “Father thinks it’s time you get married. He’s already shortlisted a few insufferable pain-in-the-ass spoiled little heirs and sons of powerful allies for you to choose from.”
I blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”
Aeros raised his hands like he was calling for peace. “We knew you’d hate the idea. We do too. So, we came up with a better plan.”
I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. “Why do I feel like I’m going to regret asking this?”
“Because you’re smart,” Aeros replied, his grin making a return. “We’re here to find you a husband. Someone decent, respectable, with a powerful background, and tolerable enough that we won’t feel compelled to murder him for standing next to you.”
I stared at him. “You’re joking.”
“We’re not,” Hael said.
“I’m not doing this,” I snapped.
“You don’t have a choice,” Hael shot back.
I grasped at the only straw left. “Mother will hate this idea.”
Ezio finally looked up from his tub of ice cream, lazily pointing his spoon at me like it was a weapon. “Who do you think approved the damn idea?”
My stomach dropped. Traitor.
“Enough chit-chat,” Ezio said, standing up. “The party’s tomorrow, and we have shopping to do.”
I froze. “What party?”
Aeros gave me a smile so wide it was almost diabolical. “The one where we find you a husband.”
The day I’d always known was coming had arrived, and far sooner than I’d hoped. Eight years ago, when I left Belgium, I promised my father I’d return when the time came to fulfill my duty. I’d been naive enough to believe I’d have more time. But in our world, marriage wasn’t about love—it was about strategy. Alliances between crime families strengthened empires. Love matches were rare exceptions, like the one between my parents. Their union had been hard-won, born out of forbidden love between enemy families that eventually forged a fragile peace.
Still, I wasn’t delusional enough to think my story would end like theirs.
The next day blurred by in a haze of extravagance. And for once, I didn’t bother holding back. If I was about to be paraded around like some trophy bride, I might as well look the part. High-end boutiques became my playground, with Ezio and a squad of bodyguards following me around like overworked pack mules, arms weighed down with bags. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, we were boarding a private jet. Despite the cushy luxury, there was no shaking the chill that settled over me as we flew straight toward the past I’d worked so hard to leave behind.
When we stepped into the ballroom that night, reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Glittering chandeliers threw light across a sea of designer gowns and tailored tuxes, and I could feel every ounce of the weight sitting on my shoulders. “God, I didn’t miss this at all,” I muttered under my breath.
The cameras were relentless, flashing the moment we arrived. Paparazzi buzzed like vultures, desperate for a juicy “Aarle siblings reunion” headline. I forced on a polite smile, all while mentally counting down to when I could slip out unnoticed.
Ezio, of course, didn’t share my reluctance. He straightened his tux and, spotting a cluster of women across the room, gave us a casual wave. “Ladies are calling. Catch you later,” he said, sauntering off with his trademark smug swagger.
Hael wasn’t far behind. A man in a sharp suit approached him and nodded. “Mr. d’Aarle.”
Without a second glance at me, Hael nodded back and followed the guy, leaving me with just Aeros.
“Well,” Aeros said, holding out his arm and flashing his annoyingly charming smile, “looks like it’s just you and me.”
I sighed but looped my arm through his. No matter how exasperating my brothers could be, Aeros had this way of making everything feel just a little less unbearable.
He led me through the room, introducing me to face after unfamiliar face. Some people were stiff and formal, others way too enthusiastic, but they all had one thing in common—they knew why I was here. It was written all over their faces: the calculated hope that they might snag a deal with the Aarles through me.
Not that Aeros was about to let that happen. He played the perfect gatekeeper, steering me clear of the more obnoxious suitors and only letting the “pre-approved” ones within earshot.
Annoying as it was, I couldn’t entirely hate the night. Between the soft hum of music, the endless glasses of champagne, and the occasional sound of genuine laughter cutting through the forced small talk, it was almost… tolerable. For a second, I let myself relax.
That second didn’t last.
I felt it before I saw anything—a prickle at the back of my neck like someone’s gaze was drilling into me. No matter where I moved, the sensation stayed with me, like a shadow I couldn’t shake.
I found myself glancing over my shoulder, scanning the crowd. It wasn’t just paranoia. Someone was watching me. And though I told myself it was no one important, my stomach twisted as I searched for a face I both dreaded and longed to see.
I was finally left alone for a moment. I grabbed another glass of champagne, making my way to the outskirts of the ballroom for a bit of breathing space. From my quiet corner, I watched the crowd—couples dancing, groups laughing and mingling. It was peaceful, a rare chance to just be without all the posturing and social maneuvering.
But just as I began to relax, a hand wrapped around my forearm, tugging me out of my trance and out of the ballroom entirely. The touch was startlingly familiar, almost like a half-forgotten memory I’d been avoiding. I barely had time to react before I was pulled into the shadowy balcony outside, pinned softly against the wall. The glow from the ballroom lights spilled out just enough to illuminate his face.
My heart skipped a beat. “Javier,” I whispered.
The dreamy haze of the moment faded fast as I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. “What are you doing here, Javier?”
His smirk flickered, something darker replacing it as his eyes swept over me with a look that could curdle milk. “The better question, Renée , is what you’re doing here. Parading around with three different men on your arm when you’re supposed to be with your family?”
“Excuse me?” I snapped, completely baffled.
Before I could get another word out, his hand came up, fingers curling lightly around my throat, possessive more than anything else. “You know you’re beautiful—everyone knows it. And with a body like yours—”
“Oh, Javier,” I cut in. “Be very, very careful.”
Something shifted in his gaze, and the vulnerability that flashed across his face caught me off guard. Before I could figure it out, his lips crashed onto mine, the kiss rough, and consuming. A jolt of surprise mixed with the thrill, and it hit me—could he actually be... jealous? As if. But there was something there, undeniable, desperate, and it left me dazed. I barely registered the sharp pang of possessiveness I’d always brushed off.
When he finally pulled back, my lips were tingling, and my pulse felt like a drumline, but I tried to keep it together. “Javier,” I started, voice unsteady, “before you get any wild ideas, those were my br—”
I didn’t even finish before Javier was yanked back, practically flung across the balcony, barely hanging onto the railing as Kian’s booming voice filled the air.
“What the hell is going on here?”
“Kian!” I gasped, my heart slamming into my ribcage. “Wait, it’s not—”
But my oldest brother was already in full bodyguard mode, arms locking around Javier’s throat with a look that screamed, you touched my sister, prepare to meet the afterlife.
Kian leaned in close, growling like an action hero who forgot his lines. “What do you think you were doing, pretty boy?”
“Kian, get off him!” I shouted, pulling at his arm, but he was like a tank. A very angry tank.
Kian tightened his grip, eyes blazing. “Why were your filthy hands on my sister?”
“Because he’s my boyfriend, you maniac! Now let him go! ”
Kian’s gaze snapped to me, shock flooding his face. He loosened his hold on Javier, who took in a rattling breath, hacking like he’d just run a marathon.
“What did you just say?” Kian finally managed, sounding like I’d just confessed to robbing a bank.
I crossed my arms, channeling all the sass I could muster. “You heard me. He’s my boyfriend , Kian. You know, the guy I’m dating?”
Kian blinked his expression pure horror. “ Boyfriend? ”
Before I could reply, Aeros rushed in, panting as if he’d sprinted across the universe. “Whose boyfriend?” His eyes darted to the scene like it was a murder investigation.
Kian, still looking like he’d seen a ghost, jabbed a finger at Javier. “Renée’s boyfriend.”
Aeros froze, his face contorting with confusion. “Wait... what?”
“Yep. Boyfriend. Renée’s boyfriend,” Kian deadpanned, sounding like the word itself could cause an apocalypse.
At that exact moment, Hael strolled in, calm as ever, but with his usual raised eyebrow of disapproval. “Did someone say... boyfriend?” His gaze shifted to Javier, and his expression soured as if he’d just smelled something awful. “ This guy?” he asked, tone loaded with disdain.
Before I could open my mouth to answer, Ezio waltzed in, casually sipping his champagne like this was some midnight soap opera. “Alright, where’s the fire? I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys. What’s the emergency?”
Kian, Aeros, and Hael whipped around, pointing at Javier in unison, all three voices loud enough to shatter glass. “ Renée has a boyfriend! ”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Oh, for the love of—”