“Life is too short to hold grudges, baby. Can you let this go?” she says, murmuring close to me so the words are for my ears only.

Lakeland hears anyway.

“Yeah, Nephew. There will always be a place for you in Stratos,” he says.

I jerk at that statement and Dad breaks in, “Or you could do whatever it is you want to do. You could go anywhere. New York, LA, London, Tokyo?—”

“Chuck, are you trying to get my baby to leave me?” my mom says, breaking into his spiel with a small squeak. “Isn’t the whole point to keep him here?”

“No,” Dad snaps. “The point is to get his head out of the clouds and back into reality.”

Lakeland clears his throat, and a sense of foreboding has me tensing against his next words.

“Speaking of ‘back to reality,’ this brings us to our next point of business. Now that school is winding down for you, it’s time for you to settle down.”

The statement and abrupt shift lands like a bomb next to the breadbasket.

I blink. Twice. Just to make sure I heard him correctly.

Settle down? What in the ever-loving fuck is he talking about?

I glance at my mother. She’s suddenly very busy buttering her cornbread.

Lucielle De Luca takes one gulp and then another of her ice water.

Bambi’s cheeks are already pink.

God.

“What the hell are you all getting at?” I mutter, experiencing a level of upset so unsettling it almost seems like calm.

“Storm,” Mom says gently.Toogently. “Your father and Lakeland have been talking, and they’ve asked me to speak with you…and Bambi.” She nods toward Lucielle, who sits up straight in her seat and smiles broadly.

“Me…and Bambi? Mom, you already know?—”

“I know,” she rushes to say, cutting me off. “I, um.” She shakes her head. Trying to silently prevent me from talking about Shae?

“You and Bambi have always gotten along. You were playmates. Friends. And it just makes sense?—”

“And it just makes sense from a business perspective for Massimo and me to have a stronger link. Through marriage. And blood.” This comes from Lakeland, and I stare at him, thoroughly dumbfounded by the conversation.

Lucielle swoops in like she’s been waiting in the wings for her cue. “Bambina is smart. Beautiful. Raised well. And our families already know each other—what more could you ask for?”

“Respect for my damn autonomy would be a good start,” I say, snapping out of my fog. After a breath, I say louder, “I didn’t realize I stepped into a live taping ofThe Bachelor: Nepotism Edition.”

Bambi’s eyes flash hurt, and instantly, I regret the bite in my tone. Bambi doesn’t have anything to do with this.

Probably.

Dad clears his throat like he wants to strangle me with a monogrammed napkin.

“That was unnecessary,” he says, tone clipped.

I take a deep breath and shift in my seat to look directly at Bambi.

“I’m sorry,” I say, quieter now. “That came out wrong. You’re amazing, Bambi. Truly. But I’m not in that place—not with you.”

Bambi swallows hard but nods. “It’s okay, Storm.”