Chapter 15

15

SCARLET

A fter shopping, Tyrone whisked me off to a spa for pampering. I emerged feeling relaxed and rejuvenated, and doted on beyond belief. If this was his way of making amends for what his brother had done and fixing the rift it had caused, then I was somewhat touched.

Truthfully, though, I knew it was more than likely the fact that I'd accepted their world and their darkness, bloodying my hands alongside them. Allowing them to take me in as one of their own.

This would be my life from here on out, that was what he was showing me. That as a woman of theirs, I would be treated like a princess.

"One last stop," Tyrone said as we pulled up outside yet another luxurious dress shop.

The trunk was already loaded with assorted bags, but he wasn't about to let me argue as he slid out of the car and moved around to open my door for me.

It wasn't long before he'd chosen two dresses for me to try on, and I was in the changing room.

There, I slipped into a stunning black gown that hugged my curves after trying on a purple one that did nothing for my figure. Tyrone's eyes widened appreciatively when I stepped out, and he nodded.

"Perfect for dinner," he stated, the edge of his mouth quirking slightly.

"Dinner?" I arched a brow.

"Yes, my brothers and I wish to take you out for dinner. We're celebrating a big thing." Those dark eyes studied me as I swallowed. Was this celebrating the murder I'd committed? Or them now treating me as one of their own? Accepting me into their wicked world?

"Which is?" I decided to ask.

"A new chapter in your life," he stated as his gaze rolled over me once more. "Now, let's get your hair done. Today is your day, then we'll head to dinner."

I pursed my lips and followed after him, remaining in the dress which the cashier was kind enough to remove the tags from.

The stop to get my hair done was welcome, and I closed my eyes as the stylist worked on giving me the perfect look for tonight, including a light application of makeup at Tyrone's request. I enjoyed the moment alone with the stylist while Tyrone was on a call, my mind whirring over everything that had transpired in the past few days. Cristian's attempts to win me back, along with their assistance in vengeance. It played heavy on my mind, and I chewed my cheek as I contemplated it all, my hand moving to rest on my stomach. It was a messed up situation I was in now because of Cristian, but his mind was a broken mess, and in a strange way, I did understand. I'd accepted where this whole thing could go, and now, I was just waiting to see how it all played out.

I'd embraced their darkness, coated my hands in blood alongside them.

I was in the thick of it, and as much as it should have terrified me, I found a strange sense of power in it.

We met Cristian and Julian at an upscale restaurant, the kind with crystal chandeliers and white tablecloths that probably cost more than my monthly rent. The brothers were all smiles as I approached in my new dress, their gazes trawling over me.

"You look absolutely ravishing, kitten," Cristian purred, his deep brown eyes gleaming with appreciation as he pulled out my chair. The way he said it sent a shiver through me, but I just nodded. I couldn't just forgive and forget, it was never that easy.

Thankfully, he didn't push it as he allowed me to sit before moving to his own seat.

The meal was exquisite - course after course of gourmet delights paired with expensive wines, although I had been given non-alcoholic alternatives.

We spoke briefly between courses about my haul of clothing and my favorite pieces, which had been hard to narrow down. The current dress and heels were high up there, and Tyrone had shared a look with me. His had clearly been the pink lacy bra set, but he didn't state that aloud.

Somehow, we'd wound up on childhood stories, and the brothers had shared some tales of their adventures as children, including Julian's skateboarding accident that had left him with a broken leg.

I watched as Julian and Cristian's faces lit up with mischief, recalling the incident.

"You should've seen it coming, Jules," Cristian chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. "That ramp was way too steep for your scrawny ass."

Julian rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, if someone hadn't dared me to try it..."

"Oh, come on," Cristian grinned. "You were the one bragging about your 'mad skills.' I just gave you the opportunity to prove it."

"Some opportunity," Julian grumbled. "Ended up with a broken leg and those damn crutches for weeks."

Cristian's laughter grew louder. "God, those crutches. I remember hiding them on you for entertainment."

Julian's lips twitched, fighting a smile. "You were such a little shit. I'd be hopping around the house, cursing your name."

"It was for your own good," Cristian insisted, barely containing his delight. "Physical therapy, you know?"

That did it. Julian burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Physical therapy, my ass. You just liked watching me suffer."

As their laughter filled the air, I found myself smiling despite everything. It was strange to see this side of them - just two brothers sharing fond memories. For a moment, I could almost forget the darkness that surrounded us.

But then Cristian's eyes met mine, that familiar intensity returning, and reality came crashing back. These men might have their moments of normalcy, but they were far from innocent. And now, neither was I.

"How was the spa?" Julian asked once he'd quietened, a glimmer in those dark eyes as he stared at me.

"Amazing, pamper days are always a delight," I said as I swirled my glass.

Cristian was watching me quietly, leaning back in his chair, while Tyrone was sipping his own glass.

"Well, you can expect plenty more of them," Cristian said with confidence, and my smile waned ever so slightly as I nodded.

This didn't go unnoticed by him, as his own smile faltered, but then he masked it just as quickly.

"The desserts here are incredible, you'll love them. We've got one of each coming, so you can try them all." He reached for his wine, sipping it before letting his gaze wander to the waiter heading our way.

The waiter approached our table with a silver tray balanced expertly on his hand. He set down four stunning desserts, each a work of art in its own right.

"Voilà, messieurs et madame," he said with a flourish. "Enjoy our French delicacies." He indicated at each one as he explained what they were, and I could only stare at the stunning selection before me.

The first was a perfectly crafted croquembouche, as he'd called it - a towering cone of delicate cream puffs held together by threads of caramel. It glistened under the soft lighting, looking almost too beautiful to eat.

Next to it sat a plate with a single, flawlessly round Paris-Brest. The wheel-shaped choux pastry was filled with a praline cream and dusted with powdered sugar. Its golden-brown exterior promised a satisfying crunch, in his words.

The third dessert was a vibrant tarte au citron meringuée. The lemon curd gleamed like sunshine, topped with peaks of toasted meringue that reminded me of wispy clouds at sunset.

Finally, there was an intricate millefeuille. Layers of puff pastry alternated with vanilla cream, creating a delicate structure finished with a marbled chocolate and vanilla fondant top.

I stared at the desserts, momentarily forgetting the complexity of my situation. "They're beautiful," I breathed, genuinely impressed by the artistry before me.

Cristian leaned forward, a playful glint in his eyes. "Beauty for beauty," he said, raising his glass in a toast. "To new beginnings."

The brothers echoed his toast, their glasses clinking together. I hesitated for a moment before joining in, the crystal ringing out as our glasses met.

Looking around the table, I marveled at how comfortable I felt with these brothers despite everything. Sure, things were a little more twisted with Cristian, but he wanted to change that, and I'd agreed to allow him to try. Our situation was beyond fucked up - and yet, I was enjoying myself.

My life had never been normal. Growing up with abusive, neglectful parents had warped my sense of family. Now here I was, dining with three criminals who'd taken me captive, and feeling oddly at ease.

This new life, whatever it was, I oddly liked it. The danger, the luxury, the intensity - it all appealed to a part of me I'd tried to bury. With the Silvestri brothers, I didn't have to hide that darkness anymore. I could embrace it fully.

I followed the brothers out onto the balcony after our decadent dessert, the warm evening air caressing my skin. A band played softly in the background, their melody drifting on the breeze. Cristian handed me yet another mocktail, the glass cool against my palm.

We gazed out over the glittering manmade lake that the restaurant and a few other buildings circled, the lights twinkling like stars in the water. I sipped my drink, savoring the sweet, fruity flavor as I leaned on the railing.

"We have something for you," Cristian said, his voice low and intense as he turned to me. "From all of us."

I arched an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. Cristian nodded at his brothers, who returned the gesture, before he reached into his pocket and produced a small velvet box.

No, surely not…

My breath caught as those dark eyes burned into mine. This was insane, not at all what I'd expect. Maybe I was wrong and it was just jewelry again.

My heart skipped a beat as he opened it, revealing a stunning ring.

Well fuck me sideways.

The central diamond was enormous, surrounded by smaller stones that caught the light and sparkled brilliantly.

"We want you to become a Silvestri," Cristian said carefully, his eyes locked on mine. "Claim our name. No one will ever dare to oppose you or hurt you, and those who even think it or try will pay the ultimate price."

I was caught off-guard, my mind reeling. I'd known them for just over a month - not nearly long enough to be certain about such a monumental decision. Hell, how this whole thing had started had been unorthodox. Everything they'd done to me, the things we'd gone through, sure, it was a lot, but this?

Cristian sensed my hesitation. "It may seem soon," he admitted, "but you've seen all sides of us already, for the most part. The darkest parts, seen what we do, and been a part of it. We've gone through some shit in our small space of time, and I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you." His voice softened. "I can't promise I won't still be rough with you in the bedroom - that's a part of me."

Tyrone sighed, "He's right about that, Scarlet. We won't always be gentle, that's not in our nature, but you will be treated differently."

"We want to have you forever," Cristian pressed on. "A Silvestri woman is treated like royalty, always."

I stared at the ring, my thoughts a whirlwind. It was beautiful, tempting - but was I ready for this?

Tyrone stepped closer, his presence reassuring. "You can think about it," he said as his hand rested on the small of my back. "This might be a bit much, bit too soon."

Julian nodded in agreement, drawing my gaze from Christian for a moment. "You should have a few days to decide."

Cristian sighed but nodded, closing the box and slipping it back into his pocket. "I'd like to begin showing you how I'll take care of you," he said, his tone determined. "It's time we head home."