Chapter 37
Thirty-Seven
VIOLET
“I’m so freaking nervous.”
I’m pacing the pool area at Lulu’s new house, unable to sit still.
Our guys hired a team of at least twenty people to come in and pamper the shit out of us girls today.
They’ve set up a makeshift spa out here, complete with a tent to keep us out of the hot Vegas sunshine and lots of fans to keep a breeze blowing through.
It’s remarkably pleasant in here.
There are massage tables, pedicure and manicure stations, and a place for hair and makeup as we get closer to needing to get ready for tonight.
Lulu’s chef has prepared platters of fresh fruit, veggies, meats and cheeses, sandwiches, and all kinds of delicious things to munch on throughout the day.
But I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“Get a facial,” Natasha urges. “The neck massage will help calm you down.”
“I’m not so sure that anything will help me right now.
I could be hours away from finding my sister, you guys.
I haven’t seen her in seven years. I know that she’s a stranger to me at this point and that I don’t really know her anymore.
Jesus, what if she doesn’t want to be saved?
Maybe she’s in love with this Lincoln guy. ”
“At the very least,” Lulu says from where she’s getting her nails painted, “you’ll get to talk to her.
You can see her, get a feel for how she is.
Even if she doesn’t want to leave this guy, she’ll be excited to see you.
So, don’t see that as a negative. If that’s the case, then she’s been well cared for. ”
We all exchange a look.
“I’ll say it,” Scarlett says. “If she wanted to stay with him, it’s because he’s treating her well, and if that’s the case, he would have let her contact you, Violet.”
Bingo.
“I know.” My shoulders sag and I pace some more. “But I can hope that not every day for the past seven years has been a nightmare for her. That she hasn’t been suffering all this time.”
“Of course you can,” Natasha agrees. “We all hope that for her. But, I do think you should at least get your nails done, get a pedicure to help you relax, even if it’s just a little, and eat something. You don’t want to go into this thing tonight off your game.”
I take a long, deep breath and then nod because she’s right.
I need to be strong tonight. I need to be at my very best because something in my gut tells me that this isn’t going to be as simple as whisking Rose away from Lincoln when they arrive. Nothing about this has been easy, so why would it start now?
So, I make myself a plate of food and then plop down in a pedicure chair next to Scarlett. Someone immediately fills the basin with warm water, and I try to relax.
But the truth is, I haven’t really relaxed in years. Certainly not since we found out my sister is alive and that she’s coming to this event tonight.
“You have to breathe,” Scarlett says, her voice soft and full of so much kindness it almost brings tears to my eyes.
“Today is going to be the hardest of the past seven years because of the anticipation and all of the what-ifs going through your brain. But this is also the day that you have to hold it together. If you lose your shit, you could put yourself and Mateo in danger.”
My gaze whips to hers, and she nods gravely.
“The guys said that every family head will be here tonight, which means that it could get dicey. If you’re not patient and steady, something bad could happen.
I’m not saying it will, but our men need us all to be solid tonight so they can focus on their jobs.
They’re not just looking for Rose, they’re keeping an eye on everyone else, making sure they mind their manners. ”
I take all of that in and close my eyes. “I feel so selfish.”
“You shouldn’t,” Natasha says as she puts more cheese on my plate. “Of course you’re focused on your sister. That’s your priority. And it’s everyone else’s, too, but the guys have a lot on the line tonight. They have us.”
“And the whole city,” Lulu reminds us. “This is their turf, and they’ve invited everyone here.”
Wow.
It’s so much more than I even considered.
“And they did it all for me and my sister. It’s too much.”
“They did it for family,” Natasha reminds me with a smile. “Because you’re their family, and that now extends to Rose. This was a great plan. As far as I know, they don’t have any active wars going on with anyone who’s coming. Just Damien, and he absolutely won’t be there.”
“At least there’s that,” I mutter, and eat a grape.
Many hours later, after I finally relaxed a bit, was talked into that facial, ate some more, and had my hair and makeup done, I’m in the bedroom that Lulu assigned to me to get dressed. Each of us girls got a room to ourselves for putting the finishing touches on anything and getting ready.
I don’t even know what my dress looks like. When I told Mateo that I needed to go shopping, he asked me to let him handle it. I was happy to do that since I don’t know the first thing about buying a formal gown.
When I open the closet, I gasp, and my hand goes right to my chest.
Holy shit.
The dress hangs in the back of the otherwise empty closet. It’s obviously been pressed and is ready to go for tonight.
And I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.
Slowly, I walk through the closet—this is a guest room?—and reach out to touch the shimmery silver fabric. This has to be silk, and when I walk through the ballroom tonight, it’ll practically glow.
I don’t have any underwear on, and it’s a good thing, because when I put the dress on, the front cuts down between my cleavage to the middle of my abdomen, and the back?
Well, there is no back.
Tiny spaghetti straps hold it up on my shoulders, and it fits me like a goddamn glove. No wonder the stylist said she’d been instructed to put my hair up.
Because when I turn in front of the full-length mirror, my entire tattoo is on full display.
All my tattoos are exposed, aside from the tiny strip on my shoulder.
Of course there are red-bottomed silver heels that match the dress, and once I’m wearing them, I step out into the bedroom and find my husband leaning against the closed door, one hand in his pocket.
He brushes his thumb over his lower lip as he watches me approach.
His gold-flecked brown eyes flare, and he swallows hard.
But I have to do the same because my man is in a fucking tux. It fits him perfectly, hugging the muscles in his arms, showing off broad shoulders and a tapered waist. His hair is tamed back from his face, and he’s clean shaven.
“Fuck, Savage, tonight’s going to be a bloodbath.”
I blink and then chuckle. “What? Why?”
“Because every fucking man there will be lusting after what’s mine.” He reaches out and drags just one fingertip along my collarbone. “Fucking hell, you’re gorgeous.”
“You chose the dress.”
“I saw it, and you had to have it,” he admits as his eyes find mine. “But now I’m calling myself a fucking idiot because too much of you is on display.”
“I’m not on display, I’m just in a pretty dress. I never would have worn something like this before you came along.”
“Why?”
I raise an eyebrow. “I would have felt self-conscious. I’m too curvy to show so much skin. I’m not a thin little runway model. That was always Rose. She’s slender. I’m . . . built like a wrestler.”
“You’re fucking perfect in every damn way,” he says, shaking his head slowly side to side, and his eyes move over my body and they make me feel sexy.
“I love your size. You’re small next to me, but I don’t feel like I’m going to hurt you when I fuck you.
Your ass and hips and tits fit perfectly in my hands.
Your shoulders and arms, hell, your thighs, are so fucking strong, and when you flex, it makes my dick twitch. ”
“You like my muscles?” I frown and flex my biceps. “Shit, I look like a man.”
“No, baby, you look like perfection. You look like you can kick ass, which you can, and you’re strong and every damn fantasy I’ve ever had. You’re exactly who I want. No one else.”
“And that is why I feel confident enough to wear this dress,” I reply, leaning closer so I can offer him my lips.
“I don’t want to mess you up.”
“I have more lipstick.”
“Yeah, but I want to tear that dress off, sink my hands in your hair, and fuck your gorgeous little mouth.”