Chapter 11 #2
“What kind of someone?” Santi presses.
“Not your problem,” I growl, with a bit too much bite.
Gabriel folds his arms. “It became our problem the second you took that call in the middle of dinner.”
I glance between them, already knowing how this goes and not having the time or patience to win it. “Sorry. This wasn’t planned.”
“Rio has an unplanned guest?” Santi says, pushing off the stool as if he’s coming wiht me. “Unless it’s a prank pizza, I’m intrigued.”
“Stay here.”
My order is too quick. Too sharp.
That only makes it worse.
Enzo places his bowl down on the counter. “If it’s important enough to ditch our tux planning, it must be worth seeing who’s here.”
I drag a hand down the back of my neck and head for the door, because standing here arguing about it isn’t going to change the outcome. They’re coming, like it or not, and my stomach fills with acid.
Chairs scrape behind me, boots hit the floor in a rhythm I know too well. By the time I reach the front door, they’re already there behind me.
I step out into the night, the warmth of the house falling away as the cool air hits, and everything in me shifts with it.
She’s here.
Not waiting. Not respecting the boundary. Not even pretending to. My veins simmer with a hot anger at her audacity.
My brothers hang back just enough to give me space, but I feel them there—alert, curious, already reading the situation for what it is. Something out of place. Something tied to me.
I round the corner of the house and head down the drive.
She comes into view before I reach the gate.
Her long dark hair catches the breeze. Bootcut jeans hug her thighs before flaring over her boots. She wears a leather jacket and a backpack as if she’s arriving for a weekend visit instead of being intercepted on private land.
The guards stand a few feet back, relaxed but watchful.
That’s not their default, which means she made them comfortable. Or convinced them she belonged.
My eyes narrow slightly as I take in the full picture. And then I see it.
A toy poodle’s head, pink-tipped fur, poking out from the side of her backpack.
For a split second, it almost throws me.
Then the irritation hits harder.
She broke in with a dog on her back? She thinks this is a game?
Just as I’m contemplating how to shut this down, she steps toward me, her expression shifting in an instant. Softening. Brightening. That emerald gaze locks onto mine with intent and she stares at me with command.
Play along.
“Babe.” She draws the word out sweetly. “I’m sorry I caused a problem with the guards.”
I don’t answer.
She tilts her head, hair slipping forward, smile easy and disarming in a way that would fool anyone who didn’t know better. “I just wanted to surprise you.” Her eyes flick past me, widening slightly as she takes in my brothers. “Damn. I interrupted something, didn’t I?”
Yeah. My fucking life.
I step closer. The dog lets out a yappy bark when I close the distance.
My dad steps up beside me. “Rio, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?”
Santi’s voice follows, amused and entirely too interested. “Yeah, babe, who’s your friend?”
Delilah laughs, slipping into the moment as if she belongs here, as if she didn’t just force her way in.
She’s good.
Too good.
And I am fuming.
I move to her side, close enough to take control of this before she pushes it further off course. “This is Delilah,” I keep my tone even. “Delilah, my brothers— Gabriel, Santi and Enzo. And my dad, Luis.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she says, sliding her fingers through mine.
Electricity shoots up my arm and for a fraction of a second, everything in me locks. Not because her skin is softer than fucking silk, not because her hand is warm and delicate—but because of what it is.
A move.
In front of all of them.
I force my hand to stay where it is.
Dad’s gaze drops to our hands, and he claps once, pleased. “You didn’t interrupt anything, Delilah! Not at all! We were having soup and a catch up. Come. You must be hungry.”
Of course he says that because in his world, this is simple. A woman shows up, you feed her, you make space for her, you welcome her in.
He has no idea what just walked through our gate.
“Are you sure?” she asks, but she’s simply confirming the invitation.
“Yes, of course,” Dad says enthusiastically, already turning back toward the house.
She hitches a thumb back at her curious dog, still observing us from the backpack. “It’s okay if Tina comes?”
“We love animals.” Dad reassures her.
And off they go.
My brothers follow, slowly as to survey the situation from a subtle distance, their attention flicking between her and me, six curious brown eyes and three shit-eating grins.
Delilah squeezes my hand once before moving with them, like this is exactly where she intended to end up all along. What the hell does she think she’s doing?
She’s not impulsive or reckless. She’s calculated. She didn’t get her way, I didn’t jump when she said so, so she forced it. Now, I’m here playing along with a narrative she set, with my family. She didn’t just come here for answers; she came here for more leverage and she’s got it.
She just tread on sacred land.
Did she come alone, or does Luther know she’s here?
Marcus?
As we walk back up the path, hand in fucking hand, my pulse won’t settle.
I’ve always known my past had the potential to reach my family.
It was a risk I always thought I managed. Kept contained. Kept far enough away from this—far enough away from them—that it couldn’t touch what matters.
Now they’re standing in it.
Now I’m not just keeping something from them—I’m lying to their faces, letting them believe something that isn’t real while she plays a part as if she belongs here.
Dad walks more quickly than the rest of us. Delilah lets go of my hand and rushes ahead to stride next to him. My teeth grind together as she falls into step beside my dad, slipping into conversation like she’s been here for years.
When everyone is several feet ahead, I turn back and jog toward the guards who are heading back to the gatehouse. “Hey…”
They glance up.
“That shouldn’t happen. A woman with a dog got in? Why wasn’t she intercepted outside the property?”
Neither guard makes an excuse. “Loud and clear. We’ll button it up.”
They’d better. This wasn’t the small miss they think it is.
If she was bold enough to come here like this, she was bold enough to take risks getting here.
And if she took risks—there’s no guarantee she did it alone.
I step forward again, closing the distance, falling in behind them as they head back toward the house.
I don’t have another option now.
Delilah didn’t just cross a line. She changed the rules.
And now it’s my move.