LOREN
The ring felt odd on my hand as I twirled it around; the diamond sitting there felt like a foreign object now. I’d only been wearing it for a few days, but I’d somehow already picked up a nervous habit of twisting it around. My husband picked up my hand, placing it in his, stopping my movement.
“It will work, Lore.”
I turned, taking in Atticus' solemn expression, and nodded. The past week had felt like a blur, and I honestly couldn’t remember all the steps we’d taken to end up here.
One moment it felt like everything was falling apart around me, and the next, I was saying “I do” in front of a judge in the middle of the night.
When Atticus had told me his plan to make me Mrs. Mascro, I’d balked at the idea. How could I marry him when I loved five men? I wouldn’t do that to them. Plus, I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that whole married life thing again after the first disaster.
Been there, done that, and it wasn’t all that great the first time. The fact my ex-husband had recently shot me only sealed the decision to stay far away from the commitment.
So how had I become Mrs. Mascro?
Simple. He’d asked, telling me it was the best way to take down Dayton and rescue Jude. When he put it like that, I couldn’t argue. Because he was right.
Dayton didn’t understand the concept of sacrifice or love. The only thing that man understood was the power he gained from fear. So to consider that his son could be more powerful through love, well, it didn’t even occur to him. He was too much of a narcissist to know what unconditional love felt like. It was his weakness, and it was how we’d win in the end.
I saw that now. Between the truth and the lies lay the darkest confession that whispered to us in the middle of the night, vowing to grant us our heart's desire if we were only brave enough to take it.
Love.
It was the one thing Dayton lacked, and it would be the one thing we could use to destroy him. And it all started with me becoming a Mafia Queen.
Sax squeezed my leg from the other side, and I looked down, grabbing his hand. The shiny metal on his finger contrasted with the rough calluses of his hand, the weathered and beaten skin he’d used to smack plenty of men around with. But it was there, reminding me that I hadn’t had to choose in the end.
Because I wasn’t just Mrs. Mascro, but Mrs. Mascro-Wessex-Young-Miller. Yeah, I’d married them all. And despite being worried and sad at the moment, I knew one day soon, we’d celebrate it properly, and I looked forward to the day we could share our happiness with our friends.
But for now, we had a purpose, and that was to rescue my son.
“Have you heard anything from Beau or Malek?” I asked.
Sax shook his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket. I looked across the seat to Wells, Monroe, and Nicco observing me. Wells and Monroe were holding hands, similar bands on their fingers, but I didn’t miss the way Nicco’s leg pressed into Wells’ or how he tried to pretend he wasn’t pressing back. I smiled at them, hoping they’d quit the dance and do something about the tension I’d felt between them since the greenhouse.
“Anything from Imogen?” I asked, just needing to know my kids were safe. Monroe was the one to answer this time.
“She texted that Levi, Lily, and Olivia made Lego houses, and they were going to bake some cookies with Cami and Mama Hart.” He smiled at me, and I relaxed, knowing they were safe.
“Good. I’m glad they’re not too focused on Jude.” I knew Imogen had to be struggling, but she’d taken it upon herself to be strong for the little ones. Atticus had moved everyone into the manor house and doubled security. He’d had Pixel go over it to make sure it was impenetrable. It felt nice having all the people I cared about close for once. Now, to just get Jude back with us.
“Do you think he got the message?” Nicco asked, looking at his brother.
“Yes.” Atticus didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t need to. We’d made a public display of strength at my father’s funeral, wanting to show Dayton we weren’t afraid. I knew he’d had my father killed. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be someone else or if my father had been the target all along. Either way, his strike had hit, and I wouldn’t forget it.
The car settled back into silence, no one knowing what else to say as we drove back to the manor. Today had been a long day, and it was only getting started. Part two of our plan would go into place tonight. Closing my eyes, I laid my head on Atticus’ shoulder, just wanting to close my eyes for a moment.
* * *
Gentle rocking woke me,and I realized I was being carried in Sax’s arms. I burrowed into his chest more, not wanting to face reality yet. “It’s okay, Spitfire. I got you.”
“She awake?” I heard one of the men ask.
“No. Just stirring,” Sax said, shielding me.
“I’m worried about her,” was whispered, and I wasn’t sure by whom.
“We all are,” Atticus said, not hiding his voice. “But she’ll pull through it. She’s strong.”