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The place where we were raising our child.
Because even if Sebastian wasn’t technically ours…he had been with us since he was a baby. We protected him, taught him how to talk, how to walk.
He was ours, and I didn’t intend on letting him go.
My head was pounding when I walked in. It was still light outside but it felt like I had been awake forever. After dealing with Miami traffic, the courthouse and a meeting with a wedding planner I really didn’t like, I just wanted to go home and curl up with a book.
But clearly, the boys had other plans.
"Justice!" Skylar called out, his British accent standing out among the others. He raised his glass in a mock salute before taking a generous sip of whiskey. "You're just in time for the meeting."
It was nice to see them all there, just hanging out. It rarely happened without planning nowadays.
I rolled my eyes at him, but couldn't suppress a smile as I took a seat next to Zane on the plush sectional sofa. "What have you got for us today, boys?"
Bash, our fearless leader and my soon-to-be husband, cleared his throat and straightened his tie, commanding the attention of the room. His hair was greying slowly, at the sides and the back, and he looked hotter than ever.
Hassan leaned against a nearby wall. “Okay,” he said. He wore a leather jacket, one sleeve pushed up past his elbow where a bright splash of a tattoo peaked out. It was new. The scales of justice. I loved looking at it. I loved looking at him. His eyes were hard as flint now. "We've got a problem."
A chorus of groans echoed around the room. Skylar muttered something about a never-ending circus, earning chuckles from Zane.
"What kind of problem?" Bash asked. His tone was calm, but I could see the tension etched on his face. He was always so good at hiding his worries behind that strong façade of his, but to me, he was an open book.
Hassan glanced at me before turning back to Bash. "It's about Sebastian."
It felt like air was sucked out of the room.
Hassan rubbed his temple. "I ran into Valentina at the party last night," he said.
“Valentina?” I frowned.
The others exchanged cryptic looks–usually a sign that this was someone Hassan had a history with. I understood that he had a history with a lot of women, but…
…yeah, that didn’t mean I had to like it.
We had other things to worry about though.
“An information broker who’s in with the De Lucas,” Hassan muttered. "She told me that there's a rumor that Vito is sick."
Bash's gaze sharpened, his eyes like ice. "What kind of sick?" he demanded, voice hard as granite. Hassan hesitated, and I could see the tension ricochet around the room.
"Dying," Hassan finally said, releasing the harsh truth like a bullet. "Terminal."
"Well...shit," Zane muttered, leaning back against the couch and running a hand through his dark hair.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked. “I mean–we have a problem with Vito, but if Vito dies, the problem goes away, right?”
"It's not just that," Hassan added, looking at Bash with gravity. "Vito has been sniffing around Sebastian."
Bash and Hassan looked at each other for a long moment.
“But why wouldn’t he leave Sebastian alone if he’s terminal?” I asked. “We count his age in months, not years. A terminal man can hardly look after an energetic toddler.”
“He wouldn’t have to look after him, doll,” Hassan said, walking over to where I was. “He has staff for that. And, uh…”
“Sebastian is Vito’s last chance at a legacy,” Bash said when Hassan trailed off.
I sighed heavily, my headache worsening. “Fuck that.”
