Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LARK
I don’t bother with a cold shower. It won’t help. So I make it hot. Too hot. And just stand beneath the spray for… a while.
Every part of me is burning.
I feel ashamed. But also incredibly aroused. Which then fuels the shame even more.
It’s horrible.
I… I hate this.
I hate Lazarus, too.
Except, I’m not sure if that’s true anymore. He’s nothing like I would have expected. The ruthless, cunning, intimidating mafia boss known for striking down his enemies and killing without compassion.
Yet he’s… he’s basically gentle with me. Harsh, too. Yet he hasn’t touched me in a way that’s made me feel unsafe.
And Johan is everything I find attractive in an alpha. Intelligent. Handsome. Kind.
Noah, I don’t know well enough yet. But he seems kind of goofy. In an adorable, sweet way. Something that’s probably insane to even think, given that he’s also clearly an assassin.
I shake my head, sending water all over the place.
This is all really confusing. And the shower isn’t helping.
Growling, I turn off the water, step out, and wrap myself up in the softest towel I’ve ever touched.
Everything about this place is opulent and lush. I know the Ferraro family has money. My own does, too.
But there’s something exquisitely decadent about this estate. Something masculine yet beautiful.
I’m not sure if that’s from Lazarus and his pack or if it’s related to his familial history.
Regardless, I like it. And I kind of hate that I like it. Because I feel like I’m betraying my Bianchi roots.
Sighing, I dry myself off, fix my hair, and then head out to grab some of my clothes from the drawer Noah unpacked for me.
Except… all I brought were lounging clothes, mostly to piss off my father. The Bianchi household has a strict dress-only policy for the women. Which is why I stuffed my bag full of sweats and oversized T-shirts.
Now I don’t really want to wear those.
Why I don’t want to… is something I don’t want to consider at the moment.
So I ignore the impulse to analyze my mind and wander back into the bathroom to the attached closet space, curious as to what I’ll find there.
My eyebrow inches upward at the wide array of choices.
Pant suits. Dresses. Sweaters. Jeans. There are even some shorts and tank tops at the back.
I open some of the drawers of the dresser situated in the middle of the space, and my lips part.
Lingerie… and jewelry.
Having come from a life of wealth, I recognize real diamonds when I see them. And wow… “You have got to be shitting me.”
I’m about to go text Johan to demand that he tell me what woman occupied this space before me, but all of the glittering items still have their tags.
Tags that make my eyes bug out of my head. “Holy crap…” The collective value in this drawer alone is worth more than the money I stole from them. “This is insane.”
I go check all the hanging items, find that they’re some of my favorite brands—which are thankfully a lot less expensive than the jewelry brands—and all in my size.
These guys prepared this entire suite for me.
I… I don’t know how to feel about that. Spoiled? Lucky? Intimidated?
They tricked me and kidnapped me. I definitely shouldn’t feel flattered.
And yet…
I close my eyes and shake my head. “Stop thinking, Lark,” I mutter to myself and grab a sweater at random. I pair it with jeans, then pause to look at the lingerie again.
My eyebrow inches upward as I take in the various sets. There’s a black set that’s actually rather pretty. Just a bra and a thong. But a floral pattern is etched into the lacy texture. “Screw it.” I grab them and walk over to the changing area to get dressed.
Because of course there’s a changing area attached to the closet. One surrounded by mirrors with a round bench at the center. I can only imagine what the guys have in mind with this.
Actually, I do imagine.
Because I can totally picture Lazarus sitting right there in the center, arms splayed along the back, watching me with those dark eyes as I try on the lingerie he picked.
This set is totally from him. Simplistic. Black. Sexy as sin.
I swallow when I see my reflection in the mirror. And for a moment, I almost hope there’s a camera in here.
Do you like what you see? I wonder, preening in case the men are watching.
Then I realize how stupid I’m acting and quickly throw on the clothes.
It’s dangerous to crave their attention. Scent matches or not, it’s not healthy to want them. They’re rivals of the Bianchi family.
Sort of, anyway.
Not really.
“Ugh.” I’ve clearly not taken my own advice to stop thinking.
Shaking my head, I leave the closet, take care of a few items in the bathroom—such as pulling my hair up into a ponytail—and head back into the bedroom.
Lazarus said I could wander. So I think I’ll do just that.
I head toward the door, only to realize I should probably take my gun. It’s on the nightstand beside both of my phones.
I definitely didn’t put those there. Which means Johan did. He obviously took off my boots, too. I spy those near the bed but don’t bother putting them on.
Instead, I pick up both phones and examine the screens. The new one has a bunch of missed messages and calls. “Oops.”
I’m about to sit down to go through them when I spot the balcony doors off my room and get a better idea. Lazarus said not to leave the estate. He didn’t say I couldn’t go outside, right?
Wandering over, I twist the ornate handle and find it unlocked. Then I step outside onto a beautiful terrace that appears to wrap around this entire level. Or at least the entire level on this wing, anyway.
“Wow,” I whisper, in awe of not just the beautiful balcony but also the view of the beach and the ocean beyond.
I knew we were in the Hamptons.
I wasn’t aware we were also on the coast.
Though, it seems obvious now. There’s no way a family with as much money as the Ferraros would live out here and not choose a secluded property away from all the others. And they would definitely require a view.
My dad and his pack were the same.
Only, the Bianchi family prefers the city, owning several properties throughout Brooklyn, with one main tower in Midtown Manhattan.
The Ferraros own most of Manhattan. But not that tower. Or the one across from it that’s maintained by the Ricci empire.
Regardless of all that, I like it here. With the ocean scents in the air. The soft sound of water rolling against the sand. It’s peaceful.
Unfortunately, though, the messages on my phone are quite the opposite. Not because my friends are applying any sort of pressure, but because they’re all very clearly worried.
I scroll through Luna’s first, wincing when I realize I never texted her when we landed. I was a little… overwhelmed.
Her messages grow increasingly worried, with the last one being time-stamped ten minutes ago saying, I’m booking a flight.
I close my eyes and blow out a breath. Then I select her name and call. Because a responding text isn’t going to calm her down.
She answers on the second ring. “Are you okay?” she demands.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I tell her. “Things have, um, been a bit hectic.” That’s an understatement, but I don’t really know what I can share with her. Rule number one is practically roaring in my head.
And after witnessing Lazarus’s quiet fury before my shower, I’m not sure I’m ready to test the limits of his rules right now.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you when I landed,” I go on. “Honestly, I was exhausted and fell asleep on the plane. Then I had a late dinner and fell asleep with my phone on silent.”
Luna is quiet for a long moment. “I feel like you’re not telling me something, Lark.”
Because you know me too well, Luna, I want to reply. Instead, I opt for giving her part of the truth. “There’s a lot going on that I can’t talk about right now. But I promise you that I’m safe.” That word just kind of leaves my mouth, causing me to frown, as it didn’t feel like a lie.
Lazarus and his pack have made it pretty clear that they’re not going to hurt me. And so far, all their actions have proved that.
Johan’s, especially.
He could have easily taken advantage of me last night and didn’t. Except, he just purred for me while I slept.
Those aren’t the actions of an alpha who means me harm.
Noah also treated me kindly and even offered marriage—albeit as a joke, I think—but doesn’t strike me as all that cruel or ill-intentioned.
And Lazarus, well, he’s still a threat.
Except he was clearly angry before my shower and didn’t assert any power over me. All he did was chastise me for hurting his friend.
Which I probably deserved.
“You know I’ll come get you if you need me to, right?” Luna asks quietly, causing me to smile.
“Yeah, I know. But I’m okay. I promise.” And I mean it. I really am okay. For the moment, anyway.
“Then when will you be home?”
My lips twist to the side as I consider how to answer that. “I don’t know,” I say slowly. “I suspect I’m going to be here for a while.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “But you’re really… okay?”
I laugh a little since I’ve already told her that. She’s just being a good friend, and I appreciate that more than she could ever know. “Yeah, I am. You’ll be the first to know if that changes.”
More silence. “I don’t believe you, Lark.” She speaks the words so low that I barely hear them through the phone. “You always try to handle everything on your own. But you don’t need to. Not anymore. We’ll all help you.”
“And I love all of you for that. I do. But I don’t need help. Actually, all I want right now is a cup of black coffee. So I’m going to go find one.” The phrase is purposeful.
A long time ago, shortly after escaping Gideon, we decided that if anything were to ever happen to one of us, I would tell her I’m enjoying a cup with creamer in it. And if she were in trouble, she would comment on her black coffee.
So saying that I want a normal cup—the way I’ve always enjoyed it—is my way of trying to subtly convey to her that I really am fine.