36. Laura

Chapter 36

Laura

T he gallery is in a big former warehouse space on the edge of the downtown lake district. The white walls are pristine, and the lighting is professionally and tastefully done. Young men and women in black outfits with simple black masks pass champagne flutes and gorgeous hors d'oeuvres that look almost too good to eat. I don't take anything, since it's a pain with my mask on, and no part of me wants to take it off, not even to pour some alcohol down my throat.

I'm too nervous to drink, which might be a first.

"This is going really well," Elena says, sounding ecstatic. We linger near one of my jackal ears while a well-dressed couple in matching Mardi Gras masks discuss my technique. Generally, they're favorable, although the guy's being kind of a nitpicking prick, and it's taking all my power not to tell him to go fuck himself.

"Is it? That's great," I say, pretty distracted by the critical dickhead.

"Angelo just told me you sold half the pieces so far and he has bids on a few more. This is millions of dollars' worth of art, Laura. People are kind of going nuts over it."

"That's… amazing?" I frown behind my mask, not sure how to feel. I never made my sculptures with the intention of showing them off. It's nice that people like them, but really, their opinions don't fucking matter to me one tiny bit.

I keep scanning the crowd, waiting for familiar faces. Or familiar masks, whatever. Everyone in attendance has their face covered, and Elena mentioned earlier that it's becoming a sort of fashionable novelty, these little anonymous art gallery openings. Most of the masks are very well done and elaborate, though there are a few people that did the absolute bare minimum. Angelo says everyone in the room is either high net worth or high status and we can't kick them out for not buying into the mask theme, but I kind of wish we would anyway.

"Look, I know things are weird with the family right now—" She stops talking when I turn my gaze on her. Even through my golden-horned mask, she can tell I'm not happy about where this is going.

"Weird? You want to talk weird? My brother is keeping me on house arrest."

"He thinks it's for your own good." Elena looks very uncomfortable. "If it helps, I tried to talk to him?—"

"Great, am I free to go now? Can I have my car back?"

"No. Not yet."

"Then I appreciate the attempt, but it doesn't help me." I turn to walk away. I've been tolerating her all night, since I don't really blame her for what's going on, but talking about this is only making me upset.

"Hold on, wait a second." She moves into my patch. "I'm on your side, okay? I really mean it. I know you're dating that Santoro guy is probably a bad idea, but—" She puts a hand on my arm. "I'm happy you're happy."

I look at the hand and slowly move away. "Thanks for saying that. Tell it to me again when Simon's being less of a dick."

I leave my sister. It's not really fair, lashing out at her like that, and if I'm honest with myself, I'm not really upset with her. I'm on edge, knowing that something bad is definitely going to happen, but not sure how or where. And worst of all, I haven't seen Jackal yet.

He'll be here. He has to be here. There's no way Jackal would leave me alone to fend for myself. If he does, fine, I'll come to grips with that and deal with it—after I manage to get the hell out of here. Only I keep stalling and putting off my escape, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

My whole family is here though. Davide and Stefania, both of them in stunning and elegant evening outfits and wearing gold-and-silver devil horns, are talking quietly to each other in the main room. Simon and Emily, plus Jeremy and his nanny, haven't been apart for more than ten seconds, while my mother lurks nearby. Dad didn't come, but no shock there. Elena's husband, Brody, is busy with his family's affairs, though he sent his best regards and bought one of my pieces, how generous, while Angelo is practically glued to Claudia's hip. He hasn't approached me yet tonight, and I can't blame him. I'm pretty sure I'd bite his face off.

But they're all here, minus my asshole father. Even though I can be difficult and mean, they keep showing up to support me, again and again. Simon may be controlling and sort of a prick, but at least he gives a crap, and so does everyone else, and all this time I've been pushing them away as hard as I can, because I don't know how to do relationships.

And yet looking at them, especially at Davide, poor, scarred, broken Davide, I realize maybe I've been wrong all this time. They figured it out—they found their perfect partner—while I've been hiding away in my basement working on my sculptures and trying to keep my issues at bay. Instead of facing them head-on and coming to grips with what happened to me, I turned inward, and nothing changed. I made some good art, that's nice, but I didn't grow.

I want to grow. I want to be better. I need to be better, not just for myself, but for my family too. Guilt hammers into me, guilt for the very first time in a very long time, and I make a promise to myself, a solemn promise that I'm not going to break.

After this, I'll be better to my family. I'll treat them how they deserve to be treated. Even Simon, that fucking asshole.

"There you are, baby. I've been looking for you all night."

I go very still. A chill runs down my spine and my heart rate doubles. I'm standing near the back hall in a dark little corner, observing the room, and the voice is coming from my left. I don't want to look; I have to turn around.

Jackal lingers at my elbow, close enough to touch.

God, yes , it's him. That mask, with the big ears and the gold details, and those beautiful gray eyes. It's Jackal, and it's also Marco. Both of my men are here , just like I knew they would be. I turn toward him, fighting the need to throw my arms around him, rip his mask off, and kiss him like I've been dreaming about kissing him for days now.

"I knew you'd show up," I whisper, and I can't believe it when my voice cracks. How did I get this emotional? What did this man do to me? Whatever it is, I love it. I really love it.

"You think I could stay away?" He touches my arm. It's a small touch, almost appropriate, almost normal. Except it means everything.

"I want to tackle you and kiss you until your face bleeds."

"And I want to strip you right there on top of one of your sculptures and lick you until you scream."

"God, you're so fucked up. Would you blindfold me first? Spank me?"

"Tie your ankles together until you're helpless, then make you choose how I hurt you first."

I shiver, my body tingling at the thought of playing a game with him again. "I missed you."

"I'm here now." His touch on my arm tightens into something possessive. "But we don't have much time."

"They're coming, aren't they?"

He nods slowly, not taking his eyes off me. I'm not sure he can right now, and I know for sure I couldn't glance back at the crowd even if a screaming naked man on fire came running through the room.

"I don't know the details," he says urgently. "They iced me out and Valentina wouldn't tell me. Ronan stopped taking my calls after I called him a fucking cocksucker and tried to talk him out of this again."

"You're so diplomatic."

"Fuck being diplomatic. I've been charming and diplomatic for far too fucking long and I'm tired of it." He moves closer, his voice pitching lower. "I'm taking what I want now, and I don't give a fuck what the consequences are."

I stare at him and have to bite my lip to keep myself from screaming his name. Jackal. Marco . My men. Everything I need.

A figure separates itself from the crowd. I turn, surprised, as Angelo approaches. His mask covers the left half of his face, painted white, blue, gold, and red.

He stops a few feet away. Jackal doesn't release my arm, and I don't try to pull away. Angelo's face is tense and pained, not very well hidden. "This is him, isn't it?" he asks, looking between us, before settling his gaze on me. "This is Marco."

I nod slowly. "Angelo, meet my boyfriend."

Marco lets out a satisfied little grunt. "Good to meet you," he says.

"You sure about that? Before you got involved with my sister, I'm pretty sure you would've tried to kill me."

"And you would've tried the same thing. People change."

Angelo's jaw works. He stares at Marco, who stares right back, unflinching. This little display of alpha machismo is a little bit much, even for me.

I step away from Jackal slightly and punch Angelo in the arm. "Hey, dickhead, what do you want? Are you just here to cause trouble?"

His expression turns alarmed, and he blinks a few times before shaking his head. His jaw softens as he looks at me. "Nah, no trouble. I guess this thing is real? Even though he's on their side?"

"I'm only on her side," Jackal says.

Which makes my heart flutter. When did my heart become capable of fluttering? God, I'm so fucking lame, but I like it.

Angelo smiles slightly. "Alright. I get it. Look, I've been where you two are, sort of, and I understand what you're feeling."

"Doubt that," I tell him.

"As a peace offering, there's an office upstairs. Take the steps behind you two and have a little alone time." His smile fades away. "Don't take long though. More bids are coming in and I want you to meet a few of your new patrons."

I stare at my brother, finding this hard to believe, but he's clearly not kidding. "You're not going to rat us out to Simon?"

"Fuck no. Simon would lose his mind, are you kidding me? Just go have a few minutes to yourselves then come back down." Angelo nods at Marco. "I hope you feel the same way she does."

"I do, and more."

He laughs and walks away. I stare at my brother's back and catch sight of Claudia beyond him: she's grinning and gives me a little wave.

Well, damn.

"Come on." Jackal's hand on my arm again. He steers me toward the hall and I follow him, my belly a mess of excitement and nerves. "We should take advantage of your brother's generosity."

"What if this is a trap somehow?" I ask as we ascend the narrow staircase. At the top is a short landing and a door. "Wait a second, what if my brothers are trying to catch you?—"

But Jackal turns the knob, and beyond is a simple space with a desk, some filing cabinets, and an old black couch. The light's on, and it's empty. I let the door shut behind me, and Jackal turns to face me, looking too big for the space. He tilts his head, and I swear he's smirking at me. His hands spread.

"Looks like we really are alone," he says.

I rip off my mask and throw it aside before charging at him. I catch the edge of his and yank it up, revealing his mouth, that beautiful mouth, and bury my lips on his. No more talk. No more discussion. I kiss him the way I've been needing to be kissed all this time, and he doesn't disappoint. He's as hungry as I am.

"We need to talk," he says, practically gasping for air. "Baby?—"

"We'll talk after I'm finished with this," I say, pressing myself tighter against him. "Just kiss me for a while longer, okay?"

His only response is to slip his tongue into my mouth, and that's all I need.