Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Isla
A month later
I can’t believe this is my life.
Since we returned from our honeymoon, I’ve slipped into a rhythm that’s equal parts thrilling and exhausting. Living with Dorian and Brennan is like dancing with a wildfire, dangerous and as consuming as it is unpredictable.
Their alpha presence fills every inch of our penthouse atop Vale Tower, a fifty-story skyscraper in the heart of downtown Houston.
Of course my husband owns the whole damn building.
I still shake my head at the thought, remembering how my jaw dropped when our driver pulled up to the private entrance that first day.
Even now, after weeks of waking up here, the sheer scale of it—sleek black marble, smoked glass, polished steel—makes my breath catch. I grew up in my parents’ sprawling Tanglewood mansion, but this place, with its sharp edges and quiet opulence, feels like another world.
And that’s not the only change .
This morning, Dorian informed me that a designer would be arriving around lunch time with a selection of dresses for tonight’s gala. After that, a makeup artist and a hair stylist were scheduled.
Though we’ve been to dinner with friends and colleagues since our return to Houston, this will be the first time I’ve acted as his hostess, and I’m very much aware of how much is at stake. He’ll be glad-handing and seeking support for his upcoming Senate run.
In typical Dorian fashion, he’s made everything as easy as possible for me. He assigned one of his employees to organize the event. And Vale Tower itself will be our venue.
From the living room, I am aware of Dorian and Brennan’s voices. No doubt they’re enjoying a whiskey as I finish getting ready.
Wondering if I’m suitable, I move to the full-length mirror. The stunning sapphire dress is a floor-length creation of silk chiffon. Its off-shoulder neckline is traced with delicate crystal beads that shimmer like stars against midnight.
There’s a thigh-high slit that adds a whisper of allure…just enough to turn heads without raising eyebrows, more than appropriate for a future senator’s wife. Or so the designer assured me.
My collar, with its vine-like curves, is a constant reminder of my bond with Dorian and Brennan.
Though my husband promised I wouldn’t have to wear it all the time, he’s asked me to keep it on. And since I don’t mind the outward display that I belong to them, I’ve left it in place.
Now I adjust it a little so that it rests at the hollow of my throat.
Wrinkling my nose slightly, I tip my head to one side to study my reflection. Immediately I straighten again. My sleek chignon is piled so high that I’m afraid it will topple if I don’t keep my spine straight.
From her little nest on our bed, Calypso yawns and stretches, blinking at me. In the overhead light, her green eyes glint. Then she flicks her tail as I move in closer. “I know. You want us all to stay home.” I reach to scratch her chin.
She’s becoming as spoiled as I am. Brennan stocks her favorite treats, and a constant supply of new toys arrives every week.
He’s read up on being a cat owner, and he says he wants to ensure we keep enriching her.
Since the housekeeper found no less than twenty toy mice beneath the bed, I suggested he pause the deliveries. He refused.
Cally purrs, leaning into my touch. Like me, she’s content.
On the night my life changed, I couldn’t have imagined that I’d ever use that word to describe myself. After all, my sister’s vanishing act and the fact I’d been forced to fill in for her was the stuff of nightmares. I knew my life would be awful.
But now…
I glance around the bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it’s massive and masculine, though I’ve softened it with the addition of some throw pillows and lighter colored bedding.
On a spur of the moment decision, I also bought a divan that I can relax on.
Well, when I have a few minutes to myself, something my men don’t allow often.
Some days, I’m bone-tired, my body deliciously sore from their constant, insatiable demands. Our lovemaking is as unique as we are, and Dorian’s commanding dominance, along with Brennan’s raw intensity, leaves me breathless, marked, and utterly theirs.
Despite my best attempts to keep guardrails around my mind and heart, there’s a growing bond that deepens with each shared glance and in every private moment.
In the distance, Dorian’s phone rings.
Another demand on his time.
Softly I sigh, and Calypso stretches, asking for another pet.
With a smile, I indulge her. And it’s a rare treat.
My every waking moment seems to be carefully scripted, and my life has become a whirlwind of obligations and meeting people. Surprising me, I’ve liked most of them.
Even more shockingly, I’m even softening a little toward Dante Moretti. Another thing that would have been incomprehensible a short time ago.
A few times, we’ve had dinner at the Braes County Club with Lucian and Caleb. Since the men who seem to love gambling were seated at our table for the wedding reception, I probably should have expected that they were close friends of Dorian and Brennan.
But just what the nature of their relationship is, I have no idea. I just know that we only meet at the Braes, which only admits Titans. Whatever they talk about when I’m not around is clearly secret.
I’ve even been drafting the syllabus for a literature class I’ll be teaching.
In this moment, things are as wonderful as they can be.
Since that afternoon on the yacht, there have been no more scary text messages. And I haven’t had to see Celeste or Everett. Maybe that’s part of the reason I’ve been able to relax a little.
Well, along with the fact that Dorian has backed my decision not to see my parents. As far as I’m concerned, I did my duty, and they received an obscene amount of money for forcing me down the aisle. I still think it’s grotesque that they sold me off to finance their lifestyle .
Margeaux constantly leaves me messages, asking if we can get together. This morning, I finally gave in, and we’re meeting for coffee tomorrow.
With a whisper, the bedroom door opens.
A little startled, I look up. Then I straighten, making Calypso meow in protest.
Dorian enters the bedroom.
God, he’s beautiful in his tailored black tuxedo that emphasizes his broad shoulders and impossibly narrow waist.
Brennan follows, every inch the shadowed knight in a tux of his own, deep navy in certain light, with a charcoal silk tie.
Their gazes sweep over me in unison.
“You’re exquisite, little one.” Dorian’s voice is graveled with desire, sending heat curling through me. He strides toward me, his gaze tracing the gown’s slit and lingering on the hint of exposed thigh.
“Radiant,” Brennan adds. “We’re proud you’re ours.” He moves in closer, brushing a callused fingertip across my collar, sparking memories of their hands claiming me.
Smoothing my gown, I blush. “I’m trying not to crease this before we even get downstairs.”
Dorian’s chuckle is dark, rich. “We’ll behave.”
The two men exchange wicked smiles.
“Mostly,” he adds, his eyes promising trouble.
Brennan lowers his hand. “As beautiful as you are, your outfit is not quite complete.”
I blink and self-consciously sweep my palm across the bodice of my dress. How can it not be? Dorian spent a fortune to ensure I look flawless for tonight’s event.
Brennan pulls a velvet box from his pocket.
My heart misses a beat. “Is it…?” I look at both of them.
He flips open the lid, revealing the ring we ordered in New Orleans .
In the light, the oval-cut pink diamond winks, and I gasp.
The finished creation is breathtaking, even more radiant than I could have imagined.
The twin pavé diamond bands make the center stone glow even brighter.
The memory of Théo’s shop floods back—their insistence, my awe, the way it felt like us .
“Isla,” Dorian says, his voice rough with rare emotion. He takes my left hand and touches my ill-fitting wedding band. “May I?”
“Yes.” I nod. I’ve never liked the fact it was chosen for my sister, and over the last few weeks, I’ve liked it even less.
He slips it off and drops it on the nightstand before plucking the exquisite piece from the box.
His gaze fastened on me, he slips it into place.
My throat tightens, and tears sting my eyes.
The fit is perfect, as if it’s meant to be. I realize the ring is more than jewelry—it’s a vow. And a claim.
For long moments, I can’t look away from the stunning piece.
When I recited my vows, I wanted no part of a life with Dorian. And Brennan terrified me slightly. Everything was wrong with the ceremony, the deception, the lies I recited.
But now…
Everything seems to have fallen into place.
All of us had a part in crafting this engagement ring, even if the marriage was one none of us wanted.
I look between them, my heart full. When I speak, my voice trembles. “It’s stunning.”
“You are stunning,” Dorian counters.
“This is us.” Brennan skims his fingertips across my heart. “You, me, Dorian. Forever.”
Dorian’s eyes are dark as he leans in to brush my lips in a kiss that is both tender and hungry. “If you’re not careful, little one, we’ll be late to our own party.”
Brennan’s fingers slip lower to find the slit in the gown, and he grazes my thigh. I gasp. Right now, I’m so delirious I’d agree to anything.
Dorian’s grin is wicked. “We can be quick.” He captures my waist and brings me in closer. When he presses his arousal against me, I grab hold of his lapels for support.
Brennan slides his hands higher, teasing, and I tighten my grip as I attempt to fight off my sensual dizziness.
At the commotion, Calypso meows indignantly and leaps to a velvet chair, tail flicking.
Brennan chuckles, easing back his hand, but Dorian is not as easily swayed. Instead, he grazes my neck, nipping me just below the collar.
“Dorian! Behave.” He had better not leave a mark.
“That’ll do.” With a small shrug, he takes a single step back. “For now.”