27. MJ
MJ
M y head is reeling.
My heart is pounding.
And hope— that beautiful bastard —is spreading through every single vein and nerve-ending I have until my whole body feels like it’s buzzing.
“Carter, you can’t be serious,” the nasty woman— his mother —gasps, clutching her pearls like she’s auditioning for a soap opera.
I drag my gaze away from Carter’s golden eyes for one split second— God help me, the way he’s looking at me, like I’m oxygen and salvation rolled into one —and I face her.
It’s obvious she’s his mother .
Same bone structure. Same ridiculous cheekbones. Same good genes.
But where Carter is warm, vibrant, and full of this raw, electric life, she’s not .
Her eyes are unkind. Her mouth pinched. Frown lines carved into her skin like she’s been scowling at the whole world for decades.
“Let me get this straight,” I say, tilting my head. “You barged into a party you weren’t invited to, dragged a total stranger into your son’s life, and announced to everyone within earshot that you basically tried to auction him off like a prize bull?”
Gasps ripple again. Somebody coughs.
Uzzi looks like he’s ready to start slow clapping.
Carter’s mom opens her mouth— probably to deny it —but I raise a finger.
“Nope. Don’t even try it. I work in pizza. I know when someone’s feeding me bullshit, and I can smell it a mile away.”
Uzzi chuckles. “She has a point.”
“Mrs. Leone,” I continue, voice steady even though my heart’s jack hammering.
“I don’t care what your Pride expects, or what kind of outdated lottery breeding program you think is acceptable.
Carter isn’t a stud horse. He’s a man. My man.
And I’ll be damned if I let you humiliate him— or me —like that again. ”
“Excuse me? What do you know about it? You’re just some fat little human?—”
“Mom!”
“I got this,” I tell Carter, then turn to his mother.
“Mrs. Leone, stop right there,” I say, my voice sharp enough to slice through steel.
“Now, I didn’t know who you were when you accosted me earlier, but now that I do, I think it’s entirely appropriate for me to tell you to just butt out, lady.
This is between me and your son. And also—shame on you for what you tried to do. ”
Her jaw drops. “Well, I never?—”
“And you won’t again,” I snap, cutting her off. “Because the next time you come at me, I’m going to let my sisters— the ones being held back by their mates right now —have a go at you. And trust me, you won’t walk away from that without a few scratches.”
Carina and Dina both growl on cue— low, warning, terrifying in that don’t-mess-with-my-family kind of way.
Their mates are holding them back, but honestly? I wouldn’t mind unleashing them.
Human or not, we Jersey girls can kick some ass.
And then I fix Mrs. Leone with the same stare I use on unruly customers who think extra pepperoni means free pepperoni.
Mrs. Leone sputters, color flooding her face.
“Now,” I finish, lifting my chin and stepping closer to Carter, “you can see yourself out. I believe Carter was just about to explain some things to me— his mate .”
Gasps ripple through the garage.
Uncle Uzzi’s eyes twinkle like he’s watching the season finale of his favorite soap opera.
Carter’s drivers are frozen mid-bite with their catering plates.
And Carter?
His golden eyes are blazing.
Proud. Hungry. Hopeful.
And for the first time since that disastrous night, I let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—I was meant to be his.
“Wow. That was intense.”
That’s me. Out loud.
Because apparently my filter took the night off.
But honestly? I can’t stop myself.
I step closer—close enough that Carter’s arm brushes mine, close enough that he doesn’t look so damn alone standing in front of his mother’s storm.
The garage is silent now. Dead silent .
Carter exhales like I just handed him oxygen. His hand brushes mine, warm, strong, and shaking just a little.
His mom sputters, red-faced, clutching her pearls like they might keep her afloat.
And me? I just square my shoulders, because I might be a normal, but tonight?
I’m his normal.
“Carter, are you really going to turn your back on me for this human?”
“Yes, Mom. I really am. You see, MJ is my fated mate. She’s my whole heart. I love her. You hear me, Kitten, I love you,” Carter says, and that is all I need to hear.
“You heard him,” I finish, my voice sweet as caramel but sharp as a pizza cutter, “now why don’t you take Uncle Uzzi’s advice and go explain yourself to your King and Queen? Because your son has already explained himself to me. Loud and clear.”
I feel Carter’s golden eyes on me, heat and pride rolling off him in waves.
And for the first time since this mess started, I believe him.