Chapter 15
15
Layne
T he sting of their deceit is a double-edge sword because I got swept up in the romance of the time I spent here. I fell for the luxury of their attention – the shopping and the trip to the beauty salon were one thing, but the way we seemingly enjoyed being with each other made for a good day was what’s gotten me acting so butt hurt now. It’s probably a good thing Pack De Luca reminded me none of this is real.
Remembering the threat from Vitale and the man spitting on the floor gives me the strength to re-read the Marriage Certificate dated today. My signature is impossible to miss, and I’d pay money to know how they forged it, until I remember they’re fucking gangsters and can forge fucking anything.
I’m legit so pissed at myself for falling, hook, line, and sinker, for all the pretty trimmings they used to lure me in, but at the same time, I’m not going to waste the opportunity of being married to them. The money at the end of this is worth the frustration.
I stomp on the pretty dress Matteo dressed me in, ignoring the longing in my chest.
Placing the food and soda on the bedside table of a spare bedroom—its existence proof of yet another lie they told—I triple-check that the knife is still stashed under the corner of my bed before I make a mad dash back to the Omega suite. Working as fast and as quietly as I can, I fill my arms with a collection of things. Mostly essentials, like T-shirts, underwear, sweats, and standard stuff from the bathroom, leaving behind pretty much anything and everything they picked out for me today.
In hindsight, I never should have run into that alley and helped a Beta. The mere thought pisses me off, since Matteo has had me second-guessing my previous assumptions about Betas. Now I’m trapped in a sham marriage that is infinitely worse than being trapped in a fake engagement.
I kick the door shut on my new bedroom, for the second time. The space is way too small to accommodate the size of their over-inflated egos, which is a bonus.
Dropping my bundle of clothes and toiletries to the plush carpeted floor, I sit on the bed and go to take a bite of the food. Of course it smells amazing, and my mouth waters, but my currently freaked-out brain decides to fixate on the mess, as opposed to my hunger.
Thanks to them.
My emotions are running rampant, colliding like I evilly imagine their beautiful cars doing. I can’t believe I fell for each smile, and every little touch, yet the whole time, they were playing me. The despair I feel bubbling inside my stupid, over-sensitive Omega heart is getting harder and harder to contain. I feel like I’m drowning.
Needing to feel safer, to cuddle and snuggle, I give up eating and get busy, distracting my emotions by making the room as cozy as possible. It’s only then that I feel settled enough to sit and eat.
I wish I could say the food tasted as good as it smelled, but I honestly chewed, swallowed, and shopped. It was a good thing for me I kept Valentine’s phone, since I didn’t even know where my wallet or bag was. It was a bad thing for Valentine that he hadn’t activated the two-step authorization process on his platinum credit card. I made it my mission to absolutely ruin his credit while also teaching him a lesson about tricking Omegas who only thought they were in this pack for a short time.
To rub salt into my vengeance, I keep copying and pasting the delivery confirmations I got from every place I shopped to the group chat the three of them shared.
And I did it until the sun rose the next day.
“Baby girl, you’re killing me,” Dante sings out.
I knew he was in the hallway. His footsteps had woken me up. The way my Omega locked on to his scent and presence was like a dog in heat, and there was no way I was going back to sleep once I knew he was out there.
It’s shameful how quickly and suddenly I’m responding to my fake husband. I’ll blame the fact I stopped taking the suppressors and using the blockers over basic genetics. The lack of medication is making me more and more aware of the Alphas lurking nearby. It sounds like BS because it is, but I’ll never admit it, not even to myself.
“Not yet, I’m not. Or has my delivery from Protection arrived?”
There’s a beat of silence before the door swings open and Dante’s head pops in. “You didn’t waste money on buying a gun, did you?”
I blink how attractive he is out of my thoughts, corralling them back to focusing on the fact I’ve been tricked by him.
“Yeah, of course I did. Three, actually.”
“Why three?”
“Dante, don't take this the wrong way, but I thought you were smarter than that. You can’t figure it out for yourself why I would need three guns?”
I hop up, taking my plate from last night and passing it over to him without asking. When he takes it without arguing, I’m just annoyed. Well, more annoyed.
I nearly close the door on him before I swing it open. “I mean, there’s no issue, is there? Since we’re married and all, I figured you’d trust me, like I got tricked into trusting you.” The sarcasm in my voice is wicked sharp, making his eyes go wide.
“You-you trust me, baby girl?” Dante stammers.
Of course, he gets caught up on the wrong sentiment of what I just said.
“Not at all,” I say, smiling brighter, faker.
The doorbell sounds, and I scuttle under the space where he is holding the door open, waiting in the foyer for Matteo to finish accepting the delivery.
He starts arguing, getting pretty fired up when one of the guards tells him a man is also here, needing time with Mrs. De Luca.
“Let him in, sweetie,” I sing out, my forced happiness crystal clear.
Perhaps he feels super guilty for being the main facilitator of my situation, or maybe he just isn’t expecting how far I’ll go to protect myself while I stay here, but either way, the door opens and a dog handler from K-9 stands with two stunning Dobermans.
“Come in, Ronnie. Thanks again for fitting me in so quickly, and letting me borrow your dogs. We can use my room, my husbands won’t interrupt us,” I say, stepping back, waiting for Ronnie to talk quietly to the dogs. The three of them take a step in coordinated procession, and I start to lead them down to my room but swing around. “Ronnie, he’s one of the men I want the dogs to protect me from. They should familiarize his scent.”
Matteo’s usually subtle vanilla scent becomes as obvious as Ronnie programming the dogs to be on high alert. And while his vanilla bean scent is so fucking perfect, nearly making me cry again, I lock that feeling up. Instead I focus on protecting myself from a good-looking Beta with a propensity to wed unsuspecting Omegas.
The way this pack keeps changing their tune has me questioning what is real and what isn’t. They’ve manipulated the situation to suit them and their needs. They've made me feel like nothing more than a piece in their puzzle. I’m starting to wonder if they even remember I am an actual person, instead of a means to an end.
Irrespective of their intentions and promises of protection, I can’t and won’t be helpless in the situation. While they’re playing bullshit Mafia games, my face is about to potentially land back on the radar of every law enforcement officer around the country. My anonymity has been an important factor in my survival, and if this pack takes that away, I will take necessary steps—like what I have been buying and arranging—to protect myself even more.
Ronnie does his thing while Matteo keeps staring at me with his pretty brown eyes currently swirling with shock and something that looks a lot like admiration. The minutes stretch out, but my resolve doesn’t crack, no matter how much I wouldn’t mind one of Matteo’s warming hugs. After a series of hand gestures and weird commands, Ronnie looks at me. “Next one.”
It takes me no time at all to find Valentine. His delectable coffee scent guides me right to him, making me feel like a homing pigeon. I nearly fall to my knees at the impact of his scent when I open the door to his office, but his cold silence stops me when he realizes what is going on. Without waiting, Ronnie strides into the room and does the same thing with the dogs as he did with Matteo in the foyer. This time, it doesn’t take as long.
Dante is where I left him, my plate in his hand still, but his eyes are on the dogs. “Hey, baby.” I emphasize the pet name he’s decided to bestow—and overuse—on me. “Ronnie just needs a couple of minutes of your time.”
Dante freezes up like a statue, and there’s a look of painful horror in his eyes that he doesn’t hide. For a man all about protection, this must be like a stab in his black heart. I have to look away from him, instead watching Ronnie and the dogs do their thing.
But all is fair in love and fake marriage.
When Ronnie steps inside to give me further instruction on handling the dogs, Dante loses his shit. “This is a onetime thing.”
“What is?” I ask, intrigued as to what he’s most upset about. The reality is, it could be anything I have done or bought in the last few hours.
“Other men in your room, baby girl. The door stays open, or I kill the bastard before I skin the doggies. Yes?”
Blowing out a slow breath, I wave Ronnie in and push the door, planning to close it. Dante’s foot stops it from properly shutting, but I’m not wasting energy, or Ronnie’s time, arguing with Dante about him being a dick.
No matter how pissed I am at this pack, I never would have engaged Ronnie and his dogs if I didn’t have experience with service animals. Despite how majestic they look, Dobermans are a weapon. Since I clearly can’t trust myself right now, I will lean on the instincts of Edward and Bella.
Did I book these two dogs intentionally because I’m a Twi-hard? You bet your glittery vampire ass I did, because to me, Edward never wavered, same as Bella. I mean, I’m not counting the end of book two. That was some bullshit, so we would all buy book three—like we weren’t going to, anyway.
Sitting next to Ronnie with my back against the wall, I listen to him go over the instructions. The small commands and gestures quickly come back from my childhood. It doesn’t take long for a calmness to resettle inside me. And that was the aim of all my crazy, frantic shopping—to regain that sense of belief in myself. I think, in my subconscious, I’ve always known I would end up trapped, just like my father threatened.
Ronnie puts the dogs and me to the test once he’s finished the training and handover procedures. And the three of us pass with flying colors, all the while being supervised by Dante.
Edward settles into guard duty as Bella and I walk Ronnie to the door. It makes me blaze with pride that Ronnie doesn’t start a long-winded lecture on the dos and don’ts of working with service animals. He simply shakes my hand, and without saying goodbye to Bella or me, he leaves.
I turn to face Valentine, Dante, and Matteo, meeting their stares head-on. Valentine takes a small step forward, making Bella do the same, but hers is way more intimidating. She fills the space between us.
“I need the medication I ordered. I saw the delivery note, so I know you accepted my package.”
He reaches into a drawer and pulls out one of the packages I ordered. The EpiPens but not the suppressors.
“You don’t need them,” Valentine says, the blue of his eyes hidden behind a wall of determination.
I shake my head, cutting him off, ending this before it starts. Because standing in front of them, my Omega side is coming in faster than a blizzard in an Arctic winter.
“You changed my name, you lied about my future, and you think you deserve that side of me?” I blink past the sudden welling of tears and watch the twitch of Bella’s ears for a few moments until I can speak again without breaking down. The way they smell, and look, is like everything I’ve wanted, but not one part of this is about them right now. This is all about me. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who said not to show any weakness, Valentine. So, you stay on your side of the house, and I’ll stay on mine. When you need me to be your trophy wife, let me know, and I’ll slide it into my schedule.”
I make it three steps toward my bedroom before Dante finds his voice. “Do you really think we didn’t know who you really are, Ariana?”
The world falls out from under me.
Slapping my hand over my mouth, Bella whines and pushes her body against my legs, and I dig my hand into her fur.
Dante might have been the one to shock me, but Valentine takes over sharing what they discovered. “Ariana Charlotte Rothchild, born nearly twenty-four years ago. Mother, Charlotte Rothchild née Langman, now deceased. Father is Attorney General Harrison Ronald Rothchild. Older brother, Prosecutor Harrison Ronald Rothchild. Younger brother recently graduated from Yale with honors and is about to start his own legal career.
“Attorney General Rothchild has an impressive career, spanning decades. He has tried and convicted several heads of some of the most notorious crime families, including the Cosa Nostra, the Triad, and the Irish Mob. There has been speculation for years that the Rothchilds have been accepting money from a faction in exchange for courtroom favors against the other syndicates.”
Valentine waits until I twist around to face him.
“Want me to go on about your family? Or do you want to talk about how you are our scent-perfect mate?”