Unwrap Me (The Fox Family Crime Syndicate #2)

Chapter 1

Ren

It’s two weeks before Christmas, and I’ve never felt prouder.

As the events director for June Harbor Zoo’s Development Office, I’ve been working on this night since last Christmas.

It’s a combination of our most popular seasonal spectacle—Zoo Lights—and our most successful single-night campaign—the winter gala—and Rockefeller’s lighting of the tree.

The way I’ve been looking forward to and planning this night down to every last detail, one might assume it’s my wedding, not that I’ve had one.

All the guests are gathered at the entrance of the safari walk, a raised bridge platform that winds through the outdoor African animals exhibit.

As I move to the front of the group for my welcome address, I spot Dr. George Lewis Guzman, Lewis to his friends, the zoo veterinarian I’ve been dating for six months.

His flaxen hair is brushed back smartly compared to his usual I-woke-up-this-perfect style, and damn, he looks good in a tux

He’s talking to a woman I don’t recognize, but I don’t recognize half the people here.

He sees me and winks, the green eyes I’ve fallen so in love with silently wishing me luck.

He knows how important this night is for me, and—my stomach rocks with butterflies—I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s going to propose tonight.

It would be just perfect. The lights are undeniably romantic, and because of the unseasonably warm weather, I don’t have to cover up my gorgeous dress with a shawl.

I look beautiful, the zoo looks beautiful, so all that’s left is a ring!

I know it’s quick, but ours has been a whirlwind romance. And lately, anytime I bring up the event, he acts a little dodgy.

God, my nerves are already in overdrive from wanting everything to go perfectly tonight, but add in my somersaulting giddiness over this potential proposal and my palms are like Niagara Falls. I discreetly wipe them on my silk dress before taking the mic from Eliana, one of my colleagues.

I think I black out, operating on autopilot, having practiced this speech dozens of times in my mirror. Before I know it, I’m jubilantly concluding, “So without further ado, let’s light up the zoo!”

A rainbow erupts all around us. Flashing lights make it look like yellow monkeys climb across electric strands of holly. The mane of a lion is an intricate design of bulbs and colors, and a zebra made from wire is striped with purple.

It’s utterly dazzling.

Even though I’ve stared at these plans for probably more hours than I’ve slept over the past few months, seeing it lit up in the dark night still takes my breath away.

It’s better than I imagined, and the astonished cheers and applause from the guests is everything I hoped for and more. My heart is so full—I did this. My team and I worked so hard on this, and I couldn’t be prouder.

I scan the delighted faces of the crowd to share this moment with Lewis.1

And that’s when I wonder if all the stress and late nights have finally caught up with me. Have I snapped? Am I hallucinating? Because the boyfriend I thought was going to propose is currently locked in a game of tonsil hockey with someone who is certainly not me.

Unless my sudden psychotic break includes out-of-body experiences?

“Ren, is everything okay?” Eliana asks when I don’t step aside for the guests to begin their holiday light tour as planned. I hear her but don’t look at her.

Instead, I’m transfixed, blinking again and again as if the next time I close and open my eyes, the woman making out with my boyfriend will magically disappear.

“Ren,” Eliana whispers again more urgently. She must follow my gaze because the next thing out of her mouth is, “Oh, shit.” Eliana is one of the few people at work who know about our relationship. It’s not a secret per se, but we wanted to keep things professional and discreet, drama free.

She swipes the mic from my hand and welcomes the guests to start their stroll while trying to subtly push me out of the way.

I finally tear my gaze away and smile like a preprogrammed robot at each person who passes, thanking those who congratulate or commend me without actually hearing them over the pounding in my ears.

When Eliana says something, she sounds miles away. “Hey, at least you went out with a bang. I don’t know what we are going to do next year without you.”

I nod as if on cue. “Yeah—wait, what do you mean?” I finally process her words.

“Oh my god, you didn’t know.” Eliana looks mortified.

I feel the blood drain out of my face. “Didn’t know what?”

“They’re eliminating your position in the new year. I’m so sorry. I assumed you knew,” she scoffs. “That son of a bitch. It’s just like Jeff to not tell you until after the event.”

I’m still so stunned from Lewis that I can’t react to the bomb she just dropped with anything more than a mumbled yeah as I look over the remaining crowd.

I’m still considering the possibility that I’m imagining everything or perhaps this is just a hyperrealistic stress dream. Because surely Lewis is not walking toward me holding hands with his tonsil-hockey teammate while smiling like everything is perfectly. Fucking. Normal.

Surely, that is not actually happening.

But apparently it is because Eliana hisses beside me, “What do you want me to do? I’ll kick him in the balls. I will. I swear to God, Ren, I will.”

At that moment, Charles—another member of our team—frantically calls for me while standing next to the event’s chef.

“Can you go see what he needs?” I ask her, my feet seemingly cemented in place as Lewis draws closer. Still fucking smiling.

“I can kick him in the balls first,” Eliana offers again.

“It’s okay. I’m okay, go, go.” I shoo her with a forced laugh. She reluctantly leaves, but not before sending Lewis a ball-withering glare.

They look like a Hollywood power couple. He could pass for a young Robert Redford and her Amal Clooney in a stunning black dress. I demand my lungs to expand and contract with a deep, not-at-all calming breath.

“Ren, it looks amazing. You did an incredible job,” Lewis praises.

I want to glow at his words. I’ve always wanted to impress him—he’s a smart, successful vet with unique, exceptional skills. There’s literally only two or three other people in the world that could do the things he does.

This time, the praise doesn’t come with a wash of warmth, but with a dump of ice-cold water as I look down at their hands, fingers laced together, and a shiny gold band around his left ring finger.

I think I’m going to be sick . . . . Is the ground spinning? Is this what an earthquake feels like? Is this an actual earthquake?

“Lewis says you’re responsible for this? It’s amazing,” the beautiful brunette holding his hand says. Oh god, she sounds so nice and genuine but—holy fuck, that is a giant rock on her finger!

“Mm, yeah, well, it was a team effort.” I don’t know how I manage to speak with my throat feeling increasingly parched.

“Well, you must have quite the team.” She laughs and extends her hand.

I stare at it like it suddenly sprouted tentacles.

“Oh right, Ren, this is my wife,” Lewis adds with a casual chuckle, as if forgetting to introduce me to his wife was as small of a blip as forgetting to ask for soy rather than oat milk.

When I stand unmoving, she pulls her hand back with a polite smile, and I quickly add, waving my hands, “Oh, sorry, sweaty palms. Nerves for the big day—well not the big day, it’s not my wedding.

” I guffaw awkwardly and continue to vomit words.

“Because I’m not married—but you are, he’s your husband and you’re his wife—his married wife that he married. ”

Oblivious to the real reason for my panic, she lets out a friendly laugh, sympathetic to my filterless ramble.

“I totally get it. I can hardly string a sentence together during my work events.” Damn it, she’s pretty and nice. She nudges him playfully. “And apparently, Lewis is suffering from the same affliction and is unable to fully introduce me: I’m Maria.”

I think my jaw actually drops. Or maybe that’s my heart plummeting to the bottom of my stomach, a pit growing more and more cavernous.

“M-Maria? You have the same name as his sister?” I ask, tripping over my words.

“Oh, no, he only has brothers,” his wife says, and for the first time all night, Lewis looks like he finally realized the giant pile of shit he’s stepped into.

Because I’m certain he’s recalling the same moment I am from a month ago: me on my knees, sucking him off under his desk when his phone rings.

“I have to take this. It’s my sister. But don’t stop.” He knits his fingers tighter in my hair. “Hey, Maria,” he answers and swallows a groan when he thrusts to the back of my throat, making me gag.

I feel slightly uncomfortable doing this while he’s on the phone with his sister, but I want to please him. If he’s fine with it, I should be too.

His thighs flex and his voice gets tight and rough. “It’s just a tickle or something in my throat,” he explains when he tries to disguise another coarse moan as a cough.

He pulls harder on my hair, pain biting at my scalp, and I feel his cock throb on my tongue.

Despite the circumstances, drawing him to the edge makes my pussy slicken, giving him so much pleasure his voice nearly shakes as he hurriedly wraps up.

“Alright, see you later—” His face twists in ecstasy, and he comes in my mouth with hot, thick ropes while biting out a final, “Bye, love you.”

“Really? No sisters?” My smile feels brittle, and my shock quickly morphs into anger. “I must be thinking of someone else.”

“It happens.” Lewis waves it off patronizingly, then places his hand on Maria’s lower back. “Well, I’m sure you have a million things to do—we won’t keep you any longer.”

As he ushers them away, Maria adds warmly, “And it really is spectacular. I hope you find time to enjoy your hard work tonight. It was lovely meeting you!”

Ha. Right.

Spectacularly devasting, spectacularly fucked up, spectacularly what-could-have-been-the-best-night-of-my-life-turned-into-my-worst.

1. Play “LABOUR - the cacophony ”— Paris Paloma