~ ISAAC ~

"What look?"

"Never mind. Let's talk business," she said, pulling out a file and handing it over, the paper crisp against my fingers.

Better. God, I hoped she didn't suspect a damn thing.

"Have a look at this file," she said.

I flipped through it, scanning the pages, the words blurring a bit before sharpening. "You want to acquire this property too?" I asked, a smirk tugging at my lips, the familiar thrill of a deal humming in my veins.

She stepped closer, her rose-scented perfume wrapping around me like a cloud, intoxicating and heady. Her arms slipped around my waist, her chest pressing forward, those generous curves bouncing slightly against me.

"I don't think we should be doing this here," I said, but a smile was already creeping across my face, betraying me.

"What other perfect time is there for you to touch this perfect body?" she whispered, her breath hot against my ear, her tongue flicking out to stroke the lobe.

My heart leaped, a surge of heat rushing south, a bulge forming in my pants that I couldn't ignore.

"I can tell you want it right now," she licked her lips, her eyes darkening with promise.

"Yes, Pat."

She grabbed my tie, yanking me closer. "Let's go to my room."

Okay, that sounded like a damn good idea, but Druscilla was upstairs in her room. Patricia's suite was in the other wing, sure, but still... the house wasn't that big.

"What if the girls..."

"Oh, don't worry, they won't hear us," she cut me off, her voice a low purr.

"But..."

"I have a new client for you," she said, dangling the carrot. There she goes, always mixing business with pleasure. "Thomas O'Connor. He wants to divorce his wife but doesn't want to lose his assets to her."

Thomas was one of Manhattan's heavy hitters, loaded and a solid pillar in the Hayes church-or organization, depending on how you sliced it.

"I referred you to him when he brought the issue to my table," she added, her fingers tracing patterns on my back.

"Oh, that's so lovely of you." I cupped her face, smooth as porcelain from all those trips under the knife, and she leaned in.

Our lips met in a kiss, soft at first, then building, the taste of her minty lip gloss mingling with the faint bitterness of her morning coffee.

"So you have to dig me well today," she murmured against my mouth.

"Absolutely, my sugar bunny." I cupped her bum cheek, firm and yielding under my hand, and we kissed again-hot, passionate, tongues dancing in a rhythm we'd perfected over time.

I walked backward, her hands still locked around my waist, guiding me without breaking the connection. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a warning bell clanged: Pray Druscilla and Avery don't come down and catch us like this.

How the hell would I explain it? Druscilla would shatter, screaming to high heaven that I was cheating on her with her own mother. And Avery? She'd be floored, furious to learn she wasn't the only side piece in this mess.

Damn! It's so complicated. But what can I say? I'm loved by three women, each pulling me in different directions like a game of tug-of-war.

I don't know when we stumbled into the kitchen, but there we were, the cool tile under my shoes, the hum of the fridge in the background. I was lost in the kiss, giving it to Patricia-she earned every star in the rating book when it came to this. Age hadn't dulled her edge; if anything, it sharpened it. Her experience showed, years of knowing exactly how to tangle tongues and build that fire.

Avery couldn't match it yet, not with the same finesse. Druscilla... well, we hadn't gone there like this, but maybe with time, she'd catch on. It must run in the family, that spark.

I lifted Patricia up, her legs wrapping around me briefly as I set her on the kitchen counter, the marble cold against her skin, I imagined. My hand slid under her skirt, exploring, the fabric whispering against my fingers.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, not breaking the kiss, her breaths coming faster, mingling with mine.

Who'd believe this mouth-the one preaching morals from the pulpit, condemning the unholy-was devouring mine on a Sunday morning? Hypocritical as hell, but I didn't mind. Not one bit.

My fingers found her mound, no surprise she skipped the underwear under that big pleated skirt. No panties, no tights-just ready access. She bit back a moan as I rubbed the entrance of her folds, her body arching into my touch.

But then, footsteps echoed from the hall, approaching fast.

We broke apart instantly, hearts pounding.

"I think someone is coming."

"Shit!" Patricia groaned, hopping down from the counter, smoothing her skirt with quick, frantic hands, her cheeks flushed.

Avery pushed open the door, stepping in, her eyes flicking from my face to Patricia's, a flicker of curiosity there.

"Uh... Cilia needs a glass of water," she said, her voice casual, but her gaze lingering a second too long.

"Fucking cock blocker," Patricia murmured under her breath, low enough that it barely carried, as she stepped aside and headed for the door.

"Uh, did she say something?" Avery asked, tilting her head, clearly not catching the words.

"Tell Cilia I need you guys at church in an hour," Patricia said, her tone clipped, before slamming the door behind her, the bang rattling the cabinets.

Avery winced at the noise, her hand flying to her ear.

"What was that about?"

I shrugged, playing it cool, though my pulse was still racing. "I don't know."

Chapter 10

Druscilla

Kaila pushed the door open without knocking, the way she always did, and the scent of her vanilla body spray hit me first.

"Do you really want to postpone the wedding?" she asked, kicking off her sandals and flopping onto the edge of my bed like she owned the place.

I sat at the vanity, staring at my own reflection like it belonged to somebody else. The wipe in my hand smelled like rosewater and regret. I dragged it across my cheek, smearing the last of last night's mascara.

"I don't even know what to think anymore," I muttered, biting the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper.

Kaila's brows pulled together. "But why the sudden change of heart? You've been planning this wedding since we were kids. You had the damn color scheme picked out in middle school."

I tossed the wipe into the little silver trash can and watched it disappear. "That's exactly the problem. My whole life has been mapped out like a damn GPS route. Turn left at twenty-five, merge into marriage at twenty-eight, exit at babies and a white picket fence. I'm tired of knowing what's coming next every single second."

My palm came down on the vanity harder than I meant it to. The bottles rattled. Kaila flinched, eyes wide.

"I want to be surprised," I said, voice cracking. "I want to wake up one morning and not know how the day's gonna end. I want spontaneous. I want messy."

She just stared, lips parted, like I'd grown a second head right there in front of her.

I dragged in a shaky breath. "I'm not calling the whole thing off. I just... I need a minute. To breathe. To be single for five damn seconds before I sign my life away."

Kaila's face softened. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I get it. I do."

Relief flooded me so fast my eyes stung. I threw my arms around her, burying my face in her shoulder. She smelled like home and trouble all at once.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Yesterday at the club... God, it was fun. Real fun."

She pulled back, confusion wrinkling her nose. "You? You enjoyed clubbing? I thought you hated that scene."

I touched my lips without thinking, the ghost of Ivanov's mouth still burning there. Heat crawled up my neck. "There's a first time for everything."

Kaila's eyes narrowed, playful but sharp. "After the bullets and the screaming and the whole 'we almost died' thing?"

I shrugged, standing up and reaching for my robe. The silk slid cool against my skin. "We're still breathing, aren't we?"

"Jesus, Cilia. You're scaring me." She laughed, but it sounded nervous. "I was losing my mind worrying about you."

I rolled my eyes and tied the belt. "You're acting like my mother now. Patricia had you shaking in your heels last night, didn't she?"

Kaila snorted, picking up the giant teddy bear Isaac gave me last Valentine's. She hugged it to her chest like a shield. "That woman could make the devil apologize. I swear she almost made me pee myself with that lecture down there."

I winced. "I'm sorry I left you to face her alone."

She waved it off. "It was my idea to drag you out. My fault."

I twisted my hair into a messy bun, the strands still damp from the shower I hadn't taken yet. "I need to get clean. I still smell like smoke and bad decisions."

Kaila's gaze snapped to my neck. Her mouth fell open. "Is that a hickey?"

My hand flew up before I could stop it. The mark was small but unmistakable-pink and tender, right where Ivanov's teeth had grazed me.

Shit.

I spun toward the mirror. There it was, loud as a neon sign.

Kaila was already on her feet, crowding me. "Cilia. Where the hell did you spend the night?"

I pressed my lips together, biting the inside of my cheek again. "I swear nothing happened with Ivanov. I must've hit my neck on something."

"Hmm. Interesting." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Who's Ivanov?"

The name had slipped out like a secret I couldn't keep anymore. My face went hot. I dropped my forehead to the vanity, the cool wood pressing against my skin.

I couldn't stop seeing him. The scar slicing through his eyebrow. Those strange, mismatched eyes that looked straight through every lie I'd ever told myself. The way water had slid down the hard lines of his chest in that hotel shower like he was carved from something dangerous and beautiful.

I'm engaged. I shouldn't be thinking about another man's hands, another man's mouth, the way he'd tasted like whiskey, chocolate and sin.

But God, I was.

Kaila grabbed my shoulders and turned me around. "Come on. Spill. You're blushing like a teenager."

I laughed, shaky and embarrassed. "I'm not telling you a damn thing. We need to get ready for church before Mom starts yelling the roof off."

"Your mom, your problem," she shot back, grinning.

Avery walked in right then, carrying the glass of water I'd asked for ten minutes ago. She looked a little flushed, like she'd been cornered downstairs again.

I took the glass from her and drank it in three long gulps. The cold shocked my throat. "Thanks, babe. I know Mom probably preached at you the whole time. I'm sorry."

Avery shrugged, sinking into my pink heart-shaped chair and spinning it slowly. "I'm used to it. She's consistent, I'll give her that."

Her eyes bounced between me and Kaila. "What'd I miss? You two look like you're hiding a body."

Kaila opened her mouth, eyes sparkling.

"Nothing!" I cut in, stepping between them. "Absolutely nothing. Let's just get dressed."

I escaped into the bathroom, heart hammering. Kaila caught the door before I could shut it.

"Let's do another bachelorette night," she whispered, winking. "I like this version of you. Wild. A little reckless."

"You're insane," I laughed, prying her fingers off the door and locking it behind me.

An hour later I was in a simple black V-neck dress that hit just above the knee, a thin belt cinched at my waist. Kaila and Avery had already left for church. I fastened the buckle, the metal cool against my fingers, when a knock sounded.

"Mom, I'll be down in a second!" I called.

"It's not your mom."

Isaac's voice. Low. Familiar.

I opened the door. He stepped inside, hands in his pockets, looking every bit the polished lawyer in his charcoal suit. But his eyes were tired.

"Your mom already left in the convoy," he said. "Figured you wouldn't want to ride with her today."

I exhaled. "Thank God. I'll meet her at church."

He closed the distance, voice soft. "I'm sorry about last night, baby. I panicked. I should've come in after you. I shouldn't have left with Avery."

I looked at him-really looked. The slump in his shoulders, the way he kept swallowing like the words hurt. Guilt twisted in my stomach.

"I overreacted," I said quietly.

"No. You didn't." He took my hands, thumbs brushing my knuckles. "I deserved every word. I just... I don't want to lose you."

"We're not breaking up," I told him, forcing a smile. "You're still the only man I've ever loved. You're going to be my husband."

He searched my face. "Then why postpone the wedding?"

The question landed like a stone in still water. I shifted my weight. "I need to think. Straight. Without all the noise."

"Why?"

The picture flashed behind my eyes again-the blonde, the angle, the way it had been tucked into that stupid cake like a poison pill.

I pulled my hands free. "Because I saw something. At the club. Inside the birthday cake you supposedly sent me."

His brow furrowed. "What picture?"

"You and some blonde. It wasn't clear, but it looked... intimate."

Isaac's face went slack. "That's a lie."

He reached for me again, gentle. "Baby, someone's trying to mess with us. I would never. You know me. I'd rather die than hurt you like that."

I studied his eyes. They were steady. Honest. The same eyes that had looked at me across the lunch table in tenth grade and promised forever.

"But it looked real," I whispered.

"You know what they say-don't believe everything you see." He cupped my face, thumbs wiping at the tears I hadn't realized were falling. "It was photoshopped. I don't know who or why, but I'll find out."

I sniffed. "You forgot my birthday."

The words came out small and cracked.

Isaac's shoulders dropped. "It slipped my mind. I had that big case, the one with the hedge-fund guy-"

"Work," I cut in, voice rising. "It's always work. That's all it's going to be when we're married, isn't it? You at the office until midnight, me waiting up like some sad little wife."

He pulled me into his chest. His cologne-something expensive and woody-filled my nose. I used to love it. Today it made me want to gag.

"I'm sorry, angel," he murmured into my hair. "Let me make it up to you. Dinner tonight. Just us. Somewhere nice. We'll talk. Really talk."

A date. Actual time. The idea felt foreign after months of canceled plans and quick kisses on the forehead.

I nodded against his shirt. "Okay. Yeah. That sounds good."

He kissed my forehead-soft, familiar, safe-then stepped back. "I'll make the reservation. I love you, Cilia. Always have."

"I love you too," I said, but the words felt heavy on my tongue.

He left, and I stood there a moment, staring at the closed door, the teddy bear on the bed watching me like it knew every secret I was trying to bury.

My driver was waiting downstairs. The ride to church was quiet, just the low hum of the engine and the city sliding past the tinted windows. When I stepped out, my Jimmy Choos clicked against the stone steps like tiny accusations.

Inside, the choir was already singing, voices rising sweet and steady. I slid into the pew beside Kaila. She'd saved me the spot, same as always.

The music wrapped around me, warm and familiar. For a few minutes I let it carry me. I closed my eyes and tried to feel clean. New. The way I was supposed to feel in this place.

Then the scent hit me-dark, expensive, a little dangerous chocolate and something sharper, like smoke and rain.

My head turned before I could stop it.

Three rows over, settling into a seat like he belonged there was none other than the handsome devil himself-the one who had lodged himself in my thoughts since last night. The very man I believed worship and the sermon had cleansed from my mind... and from my skin.

Ivanov Rodriguez.

Black suit. Crisp white shirt. The scar on his face catching the light from the stained-glass windows. Those sharp eyes scanned the sanctuary once, then locked on mine.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought the whole congregation could hear it.

What the hell is he doing here?

He didn't smile. He didn't wink. He just looked at me, steady and unblinking, like he already knew every filthy thought I'd had about him since last night.

And God help me, I couldn't look away.

Isaac's voice. Low. Familiar.

I opened the door. He stepped inside, hands in his pockets, looking every bit the polished lawyer in his charcoal suit. But his eyes were tired.

"Your mom already left in the convoy," he said. "Figured you wouldn't want to ride with her today."

I exhaled. "Thank God. I'll meet her at church."

He closed the distance, voice soft. "I'm sorry about last night, baby. I panicked. I should've come in after you. I shouldn't have left with Avery."

I looked at him-really looked. The slump in his shoulders, the way he kept swallowing like the words hurt. Guilt twisted in my stomach.

"I overreacted," I said quietly.

"No. You didn't." He took my hands, thumbs brushing my knuckles. "I deserved every word. I just... I don't want to lose you."

"We're not breaking up," I told him, forcing a smile. "You're still the only man I've ever loved. You're going to be my husband."

He searched my face. "Then why postpone the wedding?"

The question landed like a stone in still water. I shifted my weight. "I need to think. Straight. Without all the noise."

"Why?"

The picture flashed behind my eyes again-the blonde, the angle, the way it had been tucked into that stupid cake like a poison pill.

I pulled my hands free. "Because I saw something. At the club. Inside the birthday cake you supposedly sent me."

His brow furrowed. "What picture?"

"You and some blonde. It wasn't clear, but it looked... intimate."

Isaac's face went slack. "That's a lie."

He reached for me again, gentle. "Baby, someone's trying to mess with us. I would never. You know me. I'd rather die than hurt you like that."

I studied his eyes. They were steady. Honest. The same eyes that had looked at me across the lunch table in tenth grade and promised forever.

"But it looked real," I whispered.

"You know what they say-don't believe everything you see." He cupped my face, thumbs wiping at the tears I hadn't realized were falling. "It was photoshopped. I don't know who or why, but I'll find out."

I sniffed. "You forgot my birthday."

The words came out small and cracked.

Isaac's shoulders dropped. "It slipped my mind. I had that big case, the one with the hedge-fund guy-"

"Work," I cut in, voice rising. "It's always work. That's all it's going to be when we're married, isn't it? You at the office until midnight, me waiting up like some sad little wife."

He pulled me into his chest. His cologne-something expensive and woody-filled my nose. I used to love it. Today it made me want to gag.

"I'm sorry, angel," he murmured into my hair. "Let me make it up to you. Dinner tonight. Just us. Somewhere nice. We'll talk. Really talk."

A date. Actual time. The idea felt foreign after months of canceled plans and quick kisses on the forehead.

I nodded against his shirt. "Okay. Yeah. That sounds good."

He kissed my forehead-soft, familiar, safe-then stepped back. "I'll make the reservation. I love you, Cilia. Always have."

"I love you too," I said, but the words felt heavy on my tongue.

He left, and I stood there a moment, staring at the closed door, the teddy bear on the bed watching me like it knew every secret I was trying to bury.

My driver was waiting downstairs. The ride to church was quiet, just the low hum of the engine and the city sliding past the tinted windows. When I stepped out, my Jimmy Choos clicked against the stone steps like tiny accusations.

Inside, the choir was already singing, voices rising sweet and steady. I slid into the pew beside Kaila. She'd saved me the spot, same as always.

The music wrapped around me, warm and familiar. For a few minutes I let it carry me. I closed my eyes and tried to feel clean. New. The way I was supposed to feel in this place.

Then the scent hit me-dark, expensive, a little dangerous chocolate and something sharper, like smoke and rain.

My head turned before I could stop it.

Three rows over, settling into a seat like he belonged there was none other than the handsome devil himself-the one who had lodged himself in my thoughts since last night. The very man I believed worship and the sermon had cleansed from my mind... and from my skin.

Ivanov Rodriguez.

Black suit. Crisp white shirt. The scar on his face catching the light from the stained-glass windows. Those sharp eyes scanned the sanctuary once, then locked on mine.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought the whole congregation could hear it.

What the hell is he doing here?

He didn't smile. He didn't wink. He just looked at me, steady and unblinking, like he already knew every filthy thought I'd had about him since last night.

And God help me, I couldn't look away.