Page 46 of Devil's Iris
Right. I smirk.
What he means is he wants to get a closer look at Romero. He’s already got the man on some kind of pedestal, which… can’t end well. A twist of worry knots my stomach. I can’t let them get too close—it’ll only make it harder on Ethan next year when Romero and I divorce.
At my wedding.
Come over ASAP. I need to talk to you.
He replies with the peeping eye emoji.
ETHAN
Am I in trouble?
I roll my eyes, leaving him on read as I lock my phone. That should make him curious enough to light a fire under his ass. Another text chimes in.
ETHAN
I don’t have money for the bus or taxi. How do I get there?
Oh, please. Of course he’s fishing for money. I open mybank app, ready to send him what little I’ve got left, and my jaw drops, my eyes nearly bulging out of my skull. My balance boldly displays fifty thousand dollars with some change.
I blink hard, sure I’m misreading the balance, but the numbers don’t change. My hands are actually shaking as I stare at the screen, and I have to grip the phone tighter to keep from dropping it.Holy shit.
I thought he wasn’t going to send me the money until after we were legally married.
I send two hundred to Ethan and quickly close the app without looking at the balance again. Having that much in my account almost makes me sick, especially knowing I didn’t earn a cent of it.
I toss my phone back on the nightstand and escape to the ensuite, needing the ritual of normalcy. Brush teeth, shower, pretend everything is fine. I’m almost done when I hear the bedroom door open, and my heart nearly explodes from my chest with how fast and hard it starts hammering.
Is he going to come in here?
I freeze under the spray, straining to hear his footsteps. Nothing. Then another door opens—the walk-in closet? Is he just getting clothes for work, not coming to confront me about my dramatic exit last night?
I slip out of the shower, leaving the water running as I wrap a towel around my body and wait. When I finally hear the bedroom door close again, I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The tension drains from my shoulders, and I shut off the water. Of course he wasn’t going to barge in here while I’m showering.Romero isn’t like that.
Still, when I step back into the bedroom, I make a beeline for the door and lock it. And even with it locked, I rush through getting dressed.
I need to talk to him about the money before he leaves for work. And now that my brain is fully awake, last night’sconversation flashes back—him mentioning dinner with his brothers.The Nightshades.
My pulse kicks up with anxiety. I’m about to have dinner withthemost feared men in the city, and I’m supposed to convince them I’m madly in love with their brother.
Romero, I’m sure, is the calmest of the lot. Level-headed. Strategic. He deals with politicians and high-society types, after all.
But the others…
I’ve seen Rafael’s picture in the news a few times, and he looked scary as hell. Maximo Leonotti and Michael Hart too.
A shiver runs through me at the memory of Michael’s icy blue eyes, framed by the dark ink covering his skull. The small mop of blonde hair at the top of his head does nothing to soften the severity of his expression.
How the hell am I supposed to fool these men?
Once I’m dressed, I unlock the door cautiously and peek outside before making my way downstairs. Did Romero leave already? Did—there he is.
He steps into the living room from a door I know leads to his home office just as I reach the bottom of the stairs. He goes completely still, those vivid green eyes roaming down my body—and something dark flickers in them. Lust? Anger? What was it?
“What the hell is that?” he growls, taking a step towards me.
I freeze as his fingers brush feather-light over my cheek. Tingles race down my spine, my heart stuttering at the warmth of his touch spreading through me. That’s probably why it takes me a while to get what he’s talking about.
