Page 32 of Broken Wolf Heart
“It’s fine,” I tell him, drawing the blanket tighter around me while Grey slips on his shorts.
Where to?” Crow asks as Grey slides into the backseat next to me and shuts the door.
“Franco’s,” Grey says and then quickly corrects, “The Giovanni estate.”
Crow twists in his seat. But he doesn’t look at Grey. Instead, he gives me the kind of direct look that only Crow can. I swear this guy sees so much more than he lets on.
“You good?” he asks me.
My heart swells. The concern means so much more than he’ll ever know.
“Yeah,” I say, trying for a smile.
I fail—miserably. But Crow must be convinced because he turns back to face the windshield and puts the car in gear.
“In that case, welcome to the family, Mrs. Grey,” he says.
The title sends a jolt of surprise—and pleasure—through me.
I look over to see Grey watching me as if trying to read my reaction. I give him a soft smile and then press my lips to his quickly. “I think I like this title best,” I whisper.
I watch as he lights up, his joy unmistakable through the mate bond, and then he kisses me back in the darkness for the rest of the car ride.
7
LEXI
We arrive at the Giovanni estate—myestate, apparently—just after midnight. The four armed guards manning the guardhouse at the gate give nothing away in their expressions as they look me over then wave us through. When we get close, the lights shining from inside the house cut through the darkness like watchful eyes. From the outside, it looks exactly the same as it did earlier today when I was dragged through these doors in my wedding gown. Only now, I’m not a prisoner.
Now, I’m the one calling the shots.
Hopefully, that makes up for the fact that I’m still naked and wrapped in a blanket.
The SUV rolls to a stop in front of the wide double front doors. Before I can reach for the handle, Grey is already out of the car and circling to my side. He opens my door and waits while I get to my feet, adjusting the blanket and tucking it in on itself so it’s more like a dress. Then he holds out his hand like this is just another night, just another house.
It’s not.
I take his hand anyway, using my other one to hold the blanket in place. Then, I do my best to walk with the kind of confidence an alpha would have—even a naked one.
The doors are already open when we reach them. A woman stands in the foyer, silhouetted by the soft gold glow of the chandelier behind her. Her brown hair is slicked into a low bun, and she’s wearing a knee-length black dress that screams “practical” and “funeral” in equal measure. Her eyes are sharp, dark, and wholly unimpressed. She looks like she could poison a man with nothing more than a pointed glance.
“Ms. Giovanni,” she says, not missing a beat. “You’re late.”
“And you are?” I ask, mustering all the fake courage I can find.
“Elena Vargas. House administrator. I ran the estate for your grandfather. I assume I now run it for you.”
There’s no sarcasm in her voice. No fear either. Just that cool, unnerving calm that tells me she’s already assessed every variable in this moment—and found me lacking.
“That would be fine,” I manage, hoping it’s the appropriate response to learning you have a house administrator—whatever that is.
She doesn’t bow, but the others behind her do.
Three figures who stand side by side in the foyer all dip their chins nearly to their chest. Two men who look vaguely familiar from my first visit here—security, maybe?—and a woman. Andy.
Oh shit. What does she think of me killing her husband?
Before I can catch her eye to find out, a second SUV pulls up behind ours. Razor, Mia, and Dutch get out. I resist the urge to hug them, but I’m so damn glad to see them here. It feels like backup. Like friends.
