Chapter 33 Aiden
THIRTY-THREE
AIDEN
Ijolted awake, heart slamming against my ribs at the absence of my wife’s soft form.
For a second, dread tightened my throat so hard I could barely swallow. But then voices registered. I heard Tyran’s low rumble, Kyran’s snark, and Raven’s soft laugh. I heaved a sigh, scrubbing a hand down my face.
The room smelled like my wife and sex. My shirt was missing, but Raven’s dress lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and my jeans were tossed across the chair from my striptease.
I yanked the jeans on and ambled out into the living room.
I should have woken before Raven, let her see the surprise from the very first blink. After she’d fallen asleep, I’d arranged the living and dining rooms in a way I thought she might appreciate. I wasn’t much of a decorator, but I fumbled through YouTube tutorials and figured I’d done all right.
It was the thought that counted, and this would be the wedding breakfast celebration we’d never really had. Something I should’ve done the first time.
It wasn’t too late—I had to believe that. I’d read up on romantic shit girls were into, so here we were.
I crossed the threshold of the living room, taking in the scene.
The chandelier cast a warm halo over my wife, the confetti crackling under her feet as she shifted. She was sitting at the round table, her fingers brushing over the rose petals while she smiled in the same way she had five years ago: soft, shy, luminous.
The sight stole my breath. The fact that my brothers were the cause of it stole my sanity. How dare they make her smile like that? I was the one up all fucking night, not them.
They stood like idiots, hovering around her. Kyran wore the expression of someone who was amused and annoyed at the same time. Or maybe he was annoyed because he was amused. Tyran’s expression was more restrained, but amusement twinkled in his eyes.
Raven’s eyes found mine and widened, a blush creeping up her ivory skin. Fuck, at this rate, we’d be spending an awful lot of time in the bedroom, and while I wouldn’t mind, we needed to talk and get some things straight.
I threw my brothers a look of contempt—and maybe a bit of jealousy. Naturally, they ignored me.
“You two,” I said, voice low, fierce. “Hope you behaved.”
“Oh, we did,” said Kyran. I wasn’t inclined to trust him, but Raven didn’t exactly look upset, so I’d let it slide this time.
Tyran folded his arms. “Since you decided to sleep in, we kept your wife company.”
“What kind of groom sleeps in for his wedding breakfast anyhow?” Kyran drawled. “Not a very good one if you ask me.”
Ignoring my brothers, I crossed the last few feet and, without thinking much beyond preserving the sight of her smile, scooped her up from the chair and settled her on my lap.
She squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?”
“Holding my wife,” I retorted.
“Your brothers are here,” she protested, her blush matching the roses in the vase.
“If it bothers them, they should leave.” My fingers found the small of her back, twisting in the fabric of my shirt. Her hair smelled like roses and rain, a smell that had plagued me for five years. “You should always wear my shirts.”
Kyran made a mock-gag sound. “Ugh. Spare us.”
Tyran rolled his eyes but his smile was honest. “Don’t ruin this. Aiden won’t forget it and you know payback is a bitch.”
Raven tipped her head up, studying me. “All this… It’s a lot.”
“It isn’t,” I said, my thumb tracing a lazy circle at the base of her spine. “It’s long overdue.”
Guilt and something else flashed in her expression, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. I didn’t like it, but it confirmed that the two of us had a lot—five years’ worth—of talking to do.
Kyran clapped once, sarcastically. “Aww. Can we all vomit now?”
Tyran stepped forward and clapped me on the shoulder, squeezing in support.
“Ignore him. He’s done nothing but talk about wedding decor for the past twenty-four hours.”
“Not true,” Kyran protested. “Anyhow, there’s a more important topic to discuss.”
My brows shot up. “Such as?”
His eyes zeroed in on Raven. “The state of your apartment.”
She stiffened, her back shooting up straight. “What do you mean? It was just fine when I left.”
Kyran shrugged. “It looked like a tornado swept through it.”
Raven’s eyes narrowed on my brothers. “Did you see my friends?”
Tyran shook his head. “The place was empty.”
“Oh my gosh, what if something happened to them?” Raven rushed out, clearly anguished for her friends. Her eyes darted between my brothers and me. “Can we go and check on it?”
“I’m sure they’re fine,” I reasoned, already reaching for my phone and typing a message to Kingston. “I’ll check on your friends.”
“I’m sure they are,” Tyran claimed. “There was no sign of blood anywhere.”
Raven’s eyes shot to mine, and I knew she must have been thinking about Angelo Leone. The girls had done a pretty good job of erasing any evidence of what they’d done.
My phone beeped and I swept it open, scanning the message.
“All the girls are alive and well,” I told her, keeping it vague. There was no way in hell I’d tell her that Reina was kidnapped, Phoenix had disappeared, and Athena was apparently with Manuel Marchetti, although it was up for debate whether that was voluntary or not.
“Okay, now that we got that settled, we’re leaving,” Kyran announced. “We’ve had our time with your wife, Aiden. Now you two can work out your shit. I’m guessing you don’t need us for that.”
“You guessed right,” I retorted dryly.
The confetti crunched beneath their boots as they turned and left, neither man sparing us a parting glance.
I peered down at my wife and the way she was tucked into me, her expression guarded. Her small palms were pressed against my chest, the steady thump of my heart learning to line up with her heartbeat again.
And all the while, I couldn’t help but wonder what was running through her mind. Was she quietly planning her next move or silently questioning this marriage?