Chapter 23
twenty-three
DIMITRI
I leaned against the doorframe of what would soon be our brand new library, watching the controlled chaos of renovation unfold before me. Morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air like tiny constellations. In the center of it all stood Kitania, her delicate frame somehow commanding the attention of men twice her size as she pointed to specific spots on the blueprint spread across a makeshift table.
Two days had passed since we’d taken her as a pack, and somehow, everything had changed.
It was like that time together united us. Made us stronger. Bonded us in a way I hadn’t expected. All it did was make me ravenous for her actual heat when we’d bite her, claim her, make her ours for the rest of fuckin’ time.
My Alpha had been on edge knowing she was in pre-heat. That any day she could tip over the edge. We’d been making preparations, stocking up on extra food, making sure Kit had everything she’d need when the nesting instincts kicked into full drive, and doing our best to get the penthouse put back together again. Right now, it was a goddamn mess, walls torn open, shelving ripped down, and the kitchen didn’t even have countertops. Joey told me to be grateful we still had a working fridge, but with this many other Alphas and Betas in our place and everything in disarray, my Alpha was restless and agitated.
It took all my self-restraint not to bark orders and demand they finish the work in half the time. Perhaps that’s why Kit told me she’d handle managing the home projects.
And watching her now—confident, assured, taking charge—filled my chest with a possessive pride I couldn’t contain.
“The shelving needs to be darker,” she said, her voice soft yet firm. “More like mahogany than cherry. Tommy prefers reading in low light, and the darker wood will absorb rather than reflect.”
My cousin Joey nodded, making notes on his tablet. His crew consisted of a number of my second cousins, as well as a couple of family members—all vetted and warned of the consequences should they step out of line—and they all moved around Kit with careful deference.
It was a far cry from how they’d treated her when they’d first met. I’d seen their wariness, their skepticism that an Omega as delicate as her could stand at my side as an equal.
Now they deferred to her naturally, seeking her approval for each decision.
She’d earned their respect the day she took out Vincent and kept Tommy alive, and now she was one of us—a leader, a goddamn queen.
Kit flowed past me, her hand giving my forearm a gentle squeeze as she headed toward the kitchen. I followed, hating how her natural scent was masked by the neutralizing lotion we’d had to apply. But it was necessary—having a dozen Alphas and Betas in our home was challenging enough without them catching her intoxicating scent, especially because it was deeper and more addicting than ever with her approaching heat.
Hell, we’d had to go through the entire penthouse with industrial-strength blockers before allowing the crew to enter, and Kit had been diligent about applying the masking lotion each morning.
Luckily, the descenters had added benefits of helping Kit feel more at ease with people who were essentially strangers to her in her home. Not having to worry about their scents infiltrating her haven had relieved some of the tension she’d carried since the project started.
It was a small price to pay to see her like this—in her element, creating our home.
In the kitchen, she gestured to a specific section of the island where two workers were measuring for the new countertops. “I’d love for the island to have a waterfall countertop,” she explained, tracing a rectangle with her fingers. “I think it will look beautiful as the focal point in the kitchen.”
Joey came up to stand beside me with a grin. “You’re one lucky bastard, D.”
I couldn’t argue with that assessment. “Trust me, I know.”
Kit practically skipped over to us, her ice-blue eyes bright with excitement. “How are we looking on the timeline?”
“If we keep up this pace,” Joey consulted his tablet, “we should have the major structural work done by the end of next week. Finishing touches might stretch into the week after, but we’re making good progress.”
“We need it done sooner,” I said, my voice dropping into the authoritative register I was so damn used to slipping into. “Everything essential needs to be complete by Friday.”
Joey’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s pushing it, D. We’d need to bring in extra hands—”
“Then bring them in,” I replied. “Cost isn’t an issue. Timing is.”
My cousin looked between Kit and me, understanding dawning in his eyes. “We’ll get as much done as possible before...” he trailed off, glancing awkwardly at Kitania.
“Before my heat,” she finished matter-of-factly, surprisingly unembarrassed. “I appreciate you accommodating our schedule.”
Joey’s ears reddened, but he nodded with professional courtesy. “Of course. I’ll reorganize the crews today. I know Dario and Nico are looking for a side hustle. Jagger and Ren, too.”
I nodded, happy with those choices. All trusted members of my extended family. Luckily, we didn’t lack for choice. “Make it happen.”
“And thank you again,” Kit added, always polite, always polishing my rough edges.
As Joey moved away to make calls, I took a slow survey of the penthouse. The changes were coming together better than I’d imagined. The new dark wood shelves were already being installed in the library, where Tommy liked to disappear for hours with a book and a whiskey. The entertainment system Kit picked out for Marco sat center-stage in the living area—a massive screen and surround sound setup that would put most private theaters to shame. Down the hall, the gym gleamed with top-of-the-line machines, perfect for Gio to burn off his Alpha energy and stay sharp for his next fight. In the far corner, my office was nearly finished—sleek, modern, the walls soon to be soundproofed for privacy.
And of course, the heart of it all; the kitchen, slowly taking shape around us. Professional-grade appliances, double ovens, a six-burner stove—everything Kit needed to bake the treats she loved spoiling us with.
But it was more than just the physical spaces. It was how naturally Kit moved between them, checking on each area with equal investment, ensuring everything reflected not just her tastes but ours. She wasn’t decorating as a guest, but as an equal partner in our lives. As a mate .
I wrapped an arm around Kit’s waist, pulling her against my front. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
She leaned into me, hands braced on my chest, tilting her head up with a smile that settled some of the agitation I’d been battling all damn day. “I just want it to be perfect for all of us.”
“Trust me, Kitten,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It already is.”