"Where are you staying?" I ask, turning to face him.
"The Blackstone."
"Okay," I say, nodding. "Then that's where we're going."
We slip into the Audi and drive off the estate.
The drive is silent. I watch his hand on the steering wheel, knuckles still red from connecting with my brother's face. We're both lost in thought, replaying everything we just survived and everything we haven't even begun to process.
We pull up to the Blackstone twenty minutes later. The valet rushes to open my door, and Niko slips the keys into his palm without a word.
In the elevator, Niko pulls me against him, his arm around my shoulders holding me tight. I rest my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
When the doors open, he leads me down a plush hallway to Penthouse No. 4 on the top floor. The suite opens to panoramic views of Lake Michigan, the water glittering in the afternoon sun. The décor is tasteful and expensive, with dark woods and cream-colored furnishings.
"I forgot how pretty this hotel is. It's historic, right?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood and help ease some of my tension.
Niko shuts the door behind us and tosses the keycard on the side table. "Yeah. Built in the twenties. All kinds of famous people have stayed here."
I turn, giving him a smile. "Well that's fancy."
Niko gives a light laugh, but his eyes are distant. He's thinking.
He walks to a bar cart, pours amber liquid into a crystal glass, and downs it in one swallow. His shoulders are tense, his jawclenched. I've never seen him like this, brooding, silent, wound so tight he might snap.
I take a step toward him. "It was the right thing to do," I say, voice low. "Telling them. They needed to hear the truth."
He sets the glass down with a sharp click and turns to me. It's the first time I notice his red cheek and slightly swollen lip. Dimitri's work.
"Did they? Because from where I was standing, I'm not sure truth matters to them."
"Of course it matters," I insist, though my voice wavers. "Despite everything. They're my brothers. They love me, and they loved our father. They just don't know what to do with all of the information we just gave them."
"Theo might bend. Dimitri might. But Ares?" Niko laughs bitterly. "He'd rather die than let me breathe near you."
"Then we make him." I rub my belly gently. "He has to accept this. Accept us."
Something shifts in Niko's expression. The hardness melts away. He closes the distance between us, his hands framing my face.
"I still can't believe it," he says.
I smile. "Neither can I."
I tilt my head, looking up at him, and reach out to trail my fingers along his jaw. "It feels good, though. Having told you. Having told them. With everything out in the open."
"Even if you don't know what's going to happen?"
I nod. "Yes. Because I know it'll work out. I will do whatever it takes, even things I've never done before, to make it so."
Niko leans in, brushing his lips along my neck. "So will I, orea mou."
I bite my lip. "How I've missed you calling me that," I say, tilting my head to give him better access.
His mouth presses lower, hot against my collarbone. "How I've missed the feel of your skin on my lips. Your scent."
I press against him, feeling him harden against me. I slide my hand down his pants, teasing him through the fabric. "I like doing this to you."
His growl is immediate and deep. "You do a lot to me, Calli."
