Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
IVY
W e heard the helicopter before we saw it.
“Ah, they’re here,” Basilio murmured, and Christian gave him a terse nod.
“This is sure to turn into a shit show,” Dante grumbled.
“Who’s here?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun.
“Come on, you’ll see.” Christian stood and offered me his hand. By the time we wandered over to the helipad, the chopper had touched down and a familiar figure emerged, closely followed by two more.
“Hey there, sis,” greeted Aemon.
The familiar Gaelic words slid down my spine and my hand slipped from my husband’s as I ran across the deck and into my brothers’ arms.
“Never expected such a warm welcome.” Bren and Caelan laughed. “Did you miss us?”
“Of course,” I said, happy tears stinging my eyes. “I always miss you.”
“You just don’t want to be holed up in Ireland,” Aemon remarked half-jokingly.
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to correct him. I loved Ireland, but they knew I thought it was suffocating.
“What brings you here?” I asked instead.
“Sofia Volkov has been spotted in Montenegro,” Bren explained, and my stomach knotted painfully. Sofia would remain a shameful secret until we laid her to rest, but first she had to pay for Athair’s death. And there was a part of me that wanted to learn more about my twin sisters—the piece of this nightmare puzzle that my brothers still didn’t think I knew about.
“It’s time we kill the bitch,” Caelan hissed, his eyes darting over my shoulder to Christian as he approached us. He must’ve hung back to let us catch up, but I could feel the weight of his stare on me now. “I still cannot believe your husband is related to that woman.”
Christian’s expression was unreadable. While he had strong feelings about his biological mother and stepmother, he remained unmoved about Sofia Volkov. Not surprising I guess, considering he never had the displeasure of meeting her.
“I can’t control my blood relations any more than you can,” Christian stated simply, watching my brothers with those inquisitive eyes that I had a feeling saw more than they should. “I’m sure your father has done a thing or two that you’re ashamed of.”
Bren’s gaze narrowed. “But our father wasn’t some psychotic bitch. There seems to be no shortage of those in your bloodline.”
“I certainly hope it’s not part of your DNA,” Caelan added, studying Christian as if he was some kind of test subject. A lesser man might’ve shriveled under his returning gaze, but my brother was either oblivious to it or flat-out ignored it as he nudged my brothers and said, “We have future nephews and nieces to consider, don’t we, gentlemen.”
Christian’s body stiffened beside me and aggravation lit in my chest, but I kept my voice indifferent. “You three are guests on his boat?—”
“ Our ,” he corrected, and I raised my brow. “It’s our yacht, angel.”
I flashed him a smile, my cheeks flushing, then returned my attention to my brothers and started over. “You’re guests on our yacht, so I’d ask that you refrain from insulting my husband. Besides, he’s doing us a favor.”
Aemon, who could rage when the occasion called for it but also had the most rational head on his shoulders, finally chimed in. “You’re right, little sister. Forgive us.”
Eager to break the tension, I smiled and nodded. “Want a tour? Or want to join us at the pool?”
Aemon’s gaze locked on Christian. “Actually, I’d like to go over the plan of attack.”
My other brothers nodded in agreement.
“I fucking hate surprises,” Bren muttered. “And right now, everything will be a surprise.”
“Maybe you should stay behind, then.” Caelan snickered, slapping him on the shoulder. “Sunbathe on this yacht in the nude.”
I was making a puking face as my other two brothers cracked up when one of the crew members arrived with a tray of drinks.
“Bren, if I catch you in the nude, you’re a dead man,” Christian warned casually, and everyone snickered. “As far as a plan, there isn’t one. We catch Sofia off guard, end her, and that’ll be the end of that.”
Bren nodded, completely unfazed by the unsubtle threat he’d just received, then grabbed a drink from the tray and shoved an hors d’oeuvre into his mouth.
“We want to question her,” Aemon stated. Waves of ice rolled from Christian, threatening to swallow this entire yacht, but Aemon ignored it. “I want to know why exactly she killed our father.”
And how far back their business and personal relationship went , was his unspoken intention.
“I won’t risk Sofia slipping through our fingers so you can have a conversation with the woman.”
Aemon frowned, studying my husband as if trying to uncover his angle. Truthfully, I was surprised at his response too. I knew it was common in our world to extract information from captives; killing first and asking questions later left you blind to schemes.
And Christian knew that. So why take that approach?
“Fuck that,” Bren hissed. He’d always been the loose cannon in our family, but we didn’t fault him for it since we knew he had a heart of gold. “How will we uncover her agenda?”
“Sofia’s agenda is fucking people over,” Christian deadpanned. “Nothing more. Nothing less.”
“She kills with a purpose,” Bren argued. “So unless you and your family are hiding something, we’ll be holding her for questioning.” His tone was dismissive, almost challenging.
Fury reflected in Christian’s gaze when he spoke again. “Are you accusing me and my family of something?”
Caelan jumped in to try to smooth out the situation. “Absolutely not, but you have to admit, it’s unusual that none of you would want answers from Sofia, especially considering your familial connections to the woman.”
Uncertainty tugged at my throat and nervousness radiated in my every cell, pouring out of me.
“Let’s leave this for now,” Aemon ended up chiming in, his brow rising in humor. “We are guests after all.”
And just like that, my other two brothers fell in line.
Except nobody was fooled—at least I wasn’t—that they’d dropped the subject.
Priest
A few minutes before seven, everyone gathered for dinner. Ivy was glowing from a day spent in the sun, her hazel eyes shining. I hadn’t seen her like this yet—so content and free-spirited.
Her brothers’ visit wasn’t exactly a welcomed one, but it was either that or risk them getting to Sofia before us. They’d been on their way to Montenegro following a tip from Danil Popov’s father, who’d arranged a meeting with Sofia.
I couldn’t let that happen without me, so I invited them here. Everything they said about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer… well, it applied to family too.
My gaze flicked to my sister-in-law, slightly agitated that she’d put us all in this position. Of course, she couldn’t have known when she set out on her revenge path that Ivy’s father would be on the list.
Ivy said something to Juliette who was seated on the other side of her, and the latter smiled, but if you looked carefully, you’d notice the steady worry in Juliette’s eyes. She was going out of her way to be there for Ivy, probably plagued by her guilt and fear that her secret would come out. If it did, it’d destroy more than one life.
Fuck, if only Dante wasn’t so obsessed with her.
Ivy was seated next to me, and thankfully all my cousins, brothers, and brothers-in-law worked to distract me from my birth mother’s presence, who sat next to my papà on the opposite side of the dining room table.
“The gelato we ate in Rome was so delicious.” My wife beamed, speaking about our honeymoon, leaving out the main reason we were there. It was just who Ivy was. A softy with a positive outlook on life. She made it too easy to feel comfortable around her. “And the cappuccinos are to die for.”
“Let’s not talk about gelato and cappuccinos until later,” Aisling said. “Otherwise, we might spoil everyone’s dinner.”
My hand on Ivy’s thigh tightened, and she gave me a curious look, but she didn’t say anything.
“I’m always in the mood to talk about gelato,” Juliette commented, slicing off a chunk of her filet mignon and popping it into her mouth.
“Give me gelato anytime,” Wynter teased, grinning at her husband with a smug look in her eyes. “Anywhere, anytime.”
“Ivy can talk about anything her heart desires,” I said, offering Aisling a tight smile. “In fact, if she or anyone else at this table is interested in eating ice cream right here and now, please feel free to do so.” I narrowed my eyes. “Ivy is a grown woman and certainly doesn’t need any permission from guests.”
Was it skirting the “passive” and going straight to aggressive? Probably. Did I care? Fuck no.
Aisling pursed her lips, flashing me an uneasy smile, while my father looked about ready to explode. Good .
“It’s okay, darling,” she assured, patting his hand.
Ivy glanced at me, then at Aisling, uncertainty in her wrinkled brow. I kept my gaze locked on my father, a muscle in his face twitching. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, Dante jumped in.
“Maybe we can sample some ice cream after dinner.” He smiled at Aisling with too much gusto. “Heck, maybe even eat it all night.”
“I vote yes,” Juliette said, once again going out of her way to take Ivy’s side. “Let’s take a vote, shall we?”
Aisling went perfectly still, her eyes bouncing between Ivy and me before standing to her feet.
“I’m going to call it a night,” she said with a strained smile, my father taking her lead. It wasn’t until the two of them left the dining room that the tension left the room. The commotion and jokes started, turning our dinner unexpectedly lively and full of discussions on the best and worst desserts while I remained quiet, observing.
Ivy and her friends threw around some jokes about the extra-curricular activities that’d put them on our radar two years ago. Ivy’s brothers grumbled, unamused.
“Clearly we should have brought our sister back to Ireland a long time ago,” Bren muttered.
I drew her hand to my mouth and pressed a kiss to it. “Too late. She’s mine now.”
And I wouldn’t let anyone take her from me.
Ready to get this dinner over with, I gave Ivy a look and we stood as one, wishing our guests a good night. I’d become greedy for my wife, and I couldn’t wait to get her alone.
She followed me down the hallway, but before we could even reach our cabin, I spun her to face me, grabbed the back of her neck, and kissed her deeply as her body molded to me and her arms wrapped around my neck.
“You must have a fetish for dark hallways,” she murmured into my mouth, her voice breathless.
“Only when it comes to you,” I admitted.
I brought my hands to her breasts, groaning at the feel of them in my palms, my hips grinding against her soft, welcoming body. Achingly hard and ready to fuck her, I grasped her upper thighs and hoisted her up.
She met my gaze, bearing down on my shaft and chasing her pleasure, and it had to be the most beautiful sight I’d ever seen. I bit down on her throat, then licked the spot, soothing the sting while she moaned.
It was then that the sound of footsteps registered and Aisling’s voice rang through in the distance.
“Frank, we can’t?—”
“Bed, now,” I hissed, dragging her toward the side of the yacht where our cabin was while she giggled softly.
Once there, I turned around, cupped her face, and ran a thumb across her cheek. “You’re my salvation, angel. I want to fuck you nice and slow, but I also want to take you fast and dirty.”
Her lips parted, a blush rising to her cheeks. She rose to her tiptoes and breathed three words against my lips: “Then do it.”
Satisfaction ran hot through my blood. I wanted everything from her—every thought, every breath, every kiss.
I picked her up and carried her to the bed, then undressed her, leaving her in nothing but a bra, heels, and panties. And something about seeing her sprawled there almost naked had my chest growing tight. I didn’t deserve her, but I was going to spend the rest of my life working on it.
“I love you, wife.” It was surprisingly easy to admit, something about it making me feel lighter.
She shifted up onto her elbows. “You do?”
“I do. It’s almost an annoying feeling, because it’s all I think about. Somehow you sneak between my every heartbeat. Every word, every thought, every breath becomes yours. It’s an exasperating feeling, and it’s bad for business, if I’m being honest.” Her mouth curved into a smile and I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Luckily for me, my brother has been picking up the slack now that his lovesickness has worn off slightly. So yes, I love you, Ivy DiLustro. I love your loyalty. I love that you’re soft and strong. I love that you don’t run from my crazy.”
I sat here, professing my love. It wasn’t ideal, but fuck it. Nothing in this relationship had been ideal, but it was so fucking right.