Page 79 of Royally Ruined

My hand clapped down on his right shoulder. “You were watching out for our family. I can’t blame you for that.”

“You can, and it’s okay if you do.” Grabbing my forearms, he pulled me into a fierce hug. “I need to ask one thing.”

“What?”

“Is it genetic? This whole becoming an irrational idiot because of some woman?” Holding me at a distance, he dropped his eyebrows seriously. “First Kain, now you. I need to know if I’m doomed. Just give it to me straight.”

Laughing, I broke away and strode toward the house. “Come on. We’ve gotgueststo attend to.”

The outside of the estate was filled with fancy cars. We passed by them as we circled to the front, then went through the doors. Our father was waiting for us in the hallway outside the ballroom we’d chosen for this meeting.

I couldn’t see inside, but the soft buzz promised a large gathering. I knew most would be bodyguards—we had arranged for ten, just for ourselves—but none of them had weapons.No onewas allowed such things here. This was supposed to be a safe space. As much as I itched to shed the blood of every Valentine, I wouldn’t. Everything Scotch had gone through would have been wasted if I went rogue.

Maverick lifted his nose as we approached. “I assume you’re both unarmed?”

“Of course,” I said.

A short man with wide shoulders waved us toward the far wall. I didn’t know him by his face, so he clearly worked for the Valentines. Each of us had set up someone to pat people down as they entered the room.

I let the stranger check me, then watched as he did the same to my brother. Finished, he moved away, giving us some privacy. Our father leaned close to us. “Everyone is inside. Do you remember what I told you?”

Thorne gave me a pointed look. “Something about not going haywire and slicing people into ribbons. Right? Am I paraphrasing?”

I stared at Maverick, unflinching. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t approve of. As much as you think I acted selfishly these past weeks, I still put our family’s safety at top priority.”

He considered me for a long while. The man was steady as a castle and even so, I thought—just for a second—that he was about to say something to me. Something out of character. Something ... kind.

But he didn’t. And I knew I’d imagined it all.

“Come,” he said, motioning with his head. “Let’s begin.”

The ballroom was bigger than a basketball court. A domed ceiling arched above, glittering with overlapping segments of crystal and bronze. It was a gorgeous room that we hadn’t used at all this winter.

My mother adored parties; she’d insisted on using the space and going all out on the catering. As much as she loathed what the Valentines had put us through recently—and, as I’d informed her and my father in our debriefing, in the past—she insisted on being a gracious host.

Or maybe she just wanted to show off.

A single long table shone on the reflective floors. On one side sat Kain, Sammy, and Francesca. It was no shocker that Lulabelle wasn’t present. She’d forgiven our father to the point that she was okay being around our family again, but no number of centuries could be enough for her to want to be involved in any aspect of our business.

My mother waited near the head beside a chair meant for Maverick. The walls were lined with silent guards, some ours, some theirs.

Rush stood as tall as any of them, but he winked at me as I passed. He could have been the only human among a display of mannequins. After he’d helped save my life, we’d promoted him to be a personal bodyguard. The Deep Shots were beyond fractured; some had scattered with no allegiance, many had joined our crew, but even more had sworn loyalty to the Valentines.

“It’s because they think you’ll kill them,” Rush had explained to me days ago. He’d shrugged, not quite apologetically. “You’re scary. They saw it in action. Didn’t take much for Donnie to convince them their only choice was joining the Valentines.”

It was a relief not to see any of the defectors here.

The table was stocked with fancy finger foods and glittering glasses full of champagne. Some people pretended to be interested in eating, others didn’t bother with the ruse, but no matter how you sliced it, all the Valentines studied our trio as we approached.

One man who looked to be close to my age hadn’t stopped smiling at me since I’d entered the ballroom. It was a smug smile, as if he knew something no one else in the world did. He had pale gold eyes and rich tan skin. I scanned the group, realizing most of them had that healthy bronze tone—like they often vacationed somewhere hot.

These weren’t flighty posh billionaires, though. These were deadly people. I didn’t know how many of them had been involved in the attempted murder of Lula and me, or in the complacency of Darien’s misdirected revenge, so I assumed all of them were equally guilty.

Faces blurred together as I tried to record them in my mind. I was also smart enough ... informed enough ... to identify the patriarch himself.

Kurtis Valentine was a lean man. He’d worn a loose sweater the same shade as the snow outside, as if it could make him seem more innocent—hide his terrible sins. Even so, I spotted the powerful muscles under the material when he shifted to whisper to the woman next to him.

By her position opposite my mother, this had to be Valencia Valentine, his wife.

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