Deviant Hearts: Chapter 8

“What’s going on?”

I grimace at Kratos’ worried face.

“Ezio’s here.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, I need him out of here before he lights a fucking fuse on this thing.”

Kratos nods. “On it.”

“Any idea where Hades is?”

My younger brother gives me a significant look, and I roll my eyes.

Great. Some girl. As if I don’t have enough fires popping up without Hades sticking his dick in the daughter of a subsidiary family. Or worse, one of the Kildare’s subsidiary families.

“Find him, make him put his dick back in his pants, and then fucking find Ezio. Please.”

“I’ve got you,” Kratos rumbles before turning and shoving his way into the party.

“Well, she’s going to be a lot of fun, isn’t she?”

I frown, turning at the sound of Lucia’s voice.

“Excuse me?”

She rolls her eyes.

“Your wife.”

I can see where she’s going with this. Because it’s happened before, with other women I’ve been with. Even though every relationship I’ve ever had could be described as casual, at best. And that’s being very generous.

Lucia and I go fairly far back together. Not together-together, of course, though she’s made it painfully, abundantly clear that she’d be more than okay with it if things were to go there between us.

Spoiler alert: they won’t. Ever.

I could list all sorts of reasons why they won’t, like the fantastic business her father and our family do together, and that the chance of us getting together and then not working out could jeopardize that. Or the fact that I know damn well that Ricardo Bolinaro has other marriage plans for his only daughter.

But most importantly, Lucia and have never been—and will never be—a thing because I see right through her. Her overblown attempts at flirting or seduction when it comes to me aren’t because she’s interested.

It’s because she’s fucking good at what she does.

For all intents and purposes, Lucia is the voice and seat of power for the Bolinaro Cartel, at least Stateside, where her father has a hard time visiting due to ongoing legal issues. And she does it all hiding in plain sight as a trust fund brat partying with the international socialite crowd.

Bottom line, Lucia sees me as a mark. And she thinks showing her cleavage and disparaging the woman I’m going to marry is a means of breaking down my defenses. Especially when it comes to the terms of the trade deal between her family and mine that we’ve been trying to hammer out.

“Ares?”

I frown, snapping out of my reverie and staring at her through a furrowed brow.

“What did you say about my wife?”

Lucia rolls her eyes. “I said she’s going to be fun—”

“You know what, I’m going to do us both a favor right here and right now, Lucia,” I snap, startling her.

“Ares, I—”

“I will not allow you to shit on Neve Kildare. Is that crystal fucking clear?”

She frowns.

“Why?”

I stare at her. “Because it’s obnoxious, and unnecessary.”

“No, I mean why is she the line you won’t cross, or allow someone else to cross?”

My brow furrows, my thoughts snarling into a sudden traffic jam.

Uhh…

“Because she’s going to be my wife, that’s why.”

“Ares, please. I’m not one of the sycophants here to kiss the ring or bow at your feet. We both know why you’re marrying—”

“The why is none of your fucking concern,” I growl. “Now, is that clear?”

Her lips purse. This honestly may be the first time in her entire life a man has ever said no to her.

“I asked you a question, Lucia. Is. That. Clear?”

Her face darkens, her eyes narrowing.

“Careful, Ares,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “Let’s not forget who my father is, not to mention the volume of business he chooses to do with your family.”

“I’m confident that is not dependent on whether or not I suffer his daughter’s Machiavellian bullshit.”

Lucia looks like I’ve just slapped her.

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, well, take a number and get in line.”

She sneers and stalks off into the house.

I roll my eyes before suddenly remembering the issue at hand: Ezio, showing up to this of all fucking parties, like the goddamn idiot that he is.

A lit match waltzing into a party full of dry tinder.

Neve and I aren’t married yet. And until we are, this little ceasefire between Drakos and Kildare after the events that killed my uncle and her father is hanging by a fucking thread.

I storm through the party like a vengeful wraith, looking left and right for Ezio.

I have to find him before he blows this whole fucking thing to kingdom—

Fuck.

There he is. I spot Ezio over by the far side of the gardens, near the edge of the building that drops forty stories straight down to Central Park South.

Alone, with Neve.

FUCK.

I bolt across the garden, almost knocking one of the waiters into a pool, trying to get to them before Ezio says or does something stupid.

Or Neve does, for that matter.

I’m mere feet away from them, just on the other side of a hedge, when suddenly, I stop short at the sound of Neve’s voice.

“I said is that clear, Mr. Adamos?”

“Look, Neve—”

“It’s Ms. Kildare. Soon to be Mrs. Drakos, in case you’d forgotten.”

My brow lifts as I peer through a small gap in the hedge. Neve and Ezio are standing alone by the edge. Ezio’s face is flushed, his eyes wild. He’s clearly been drinking, and it definitely looks like he was trying to start shit with Neve.

Except she’s standing tall and firm, holding her own with a stern, cold look on her face. Fuck me.

Ezio scowls. “Look. I know your daddy got killed, too. But those were good men—”

“I don’t give a shit if they were Mother Teresa, Lady Gaga, and fucking Jesus. You need to understand who I am to you.”

A small smile teases at the corners of my mouth.

Well…this is interesting.

Ezio starts to open his mouth. But Neve shuts that down fast as she continues to dress him down.

“Now, you will address me with courtesy, or you will not address me at all. I am your king’s new queen, remember? And if you so much as fucking glance at my sister again, I’ll have you thrown off a roof.”

Ezio’s eyes bulge as she suddenly steps closer to him, her hand jutting out and grabbing his collar in her fist.

“I may even do it myself.”

Okay. I’m impressed.

And hard. What the fuck?

Ezio’s face crumples, and suddenly, the man is honest-to-God crying.

“I—I’m so sorry, Ms. Kildare,” he chokes. “I promise you, the men responsible for the other day have been dealt with. My son was much beloved by my men. Please forgive their anger. And please…” he chokes. “Forgive me. My grief…”

“I’m truly sorry for your loss, Mr. Adamos.”

And suddenly, Neve is hugging him, stroking his back comfortingly as he sobs quietly for a moment before pulling away. He smiles a crooked smile, wiping his eyes.

“Christ, Ms. Kildare, you must think I’m a buffoon.”

She shakes her head, smiling at him. “No, Mr. Adamos, I don’t. I think grief hurts, and it’s rare that we know what to do with it.”

He smiles at her.

“Ares was lucky to find you,” he says quietly.

“Why’s that?”

“Because you, Ms. Kildare, are a true queen.”

I watch in a daze as my future wife turns a shit situation into solid gold. And for the first time, I realize two things.

One, Neve is a fucking force to be reckoned with. She’s bold. She’s tough. And she’s ballsy.

And two, all of that is a serious turn on.

I’m so fucked.