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“Right.” Ben glanced over his shoulder at the others. “Barrick, perhaps you could explain it better.”

The Beast replica stepped forward, his gun still in hand, but at least he wasn’t pointing it at anyone. “We searched to see if your DNA was in any databases just in case we needed to compare it at a later date. I wasn’t surprised that it was, but the reasons for it did have me curious, so I made a few phone calls. Specifically, to the lab that handled the DNA analysis. It seems Enzo Fontana had a paternity test done, but he disappeared soon after. I was informed by Mila that Enzo had died.”

“Tragic,” Gian muttered.

“Yeah, my heart is broken for the poor bastard,” Barrick said with a smirk. “But he didn’t get to find out the results of the test. From what I understand, he was the only one who knew or cared about the results because, according to the lab, no one ever contacted them regarding said results.”

“And these results conclude I am not Enzo Fontana’s son?” Gian’s voice sounded like it had been scraped raw with sandpaper.

“So the director of the lab told me,” Barrick confirmed. “I have their information if you want to contact them yourself.”

Gian muttered a curse, then told the guards to return to their posts outside. They made a quick exit. “Let’s take this down to the library,” he suggested. Turning to face me, he cupped my face. “Precious, we seem to have guests. Get dressed and come join us.” He glanced at Mila. “Your sister can assist you.”

“And Maverick?” I asked hopefully, and Gian’s lips tilted up as he nodded. I pushed up onto my tiptoes and kissed his lips. “Thank you,” I whispered when I pulled back. “For everything.”

Jaw clenching, he gave another firm nod and stepped back. “Mila, Maverick, please watch over her. She’s been getting very dizzy. I don’t want her to fall again.”

“Damn, Mon,” Maverick said as he started to touch my eye. “That’s a pretty shiner you got, sis.”

I flinched away from his touch, knowing how badly it would hurt if he so much as grazed it, and Gian growled ferally at him.

“Right,” Maverick said with a grimace. “No touching the wounded.”

Shaking my head at my brother, I grabbed his hand and tugged him into the bedroom. “We won’t be long,” I promised Gian before shutting the door.

As soon as we were alone, Maverick glanced around. “This place is sick. I should have brought River.”

“Mon.” Mila caught my hands when I would have walked into the closet and turned me to face her. “I came here to take you home. But…”

“But I am home,” I finished for her, and tears filled her gray eyes. “I’m sorry, Mil.”

“What am I going to tell Mom and Dad?” she whispered.

“That I’m happy and in love with a man who would find a way to give me the moon if I asked for it.” I hugged her. “You have Lyric, so I know you understand how I would feel if I had to leave Gian, Mila. He’s everything to me. More than everything. I was so miserable without him, and I don’t think I could ever survive that again. Please… Please don’t make me choose.”

“I’m not,” she rushed to assure me. “I would never do that to you. I don’t care who you love or want to spend your life with. All that matters to me is that you’re happy and he treats you like a princess.”

“She’s not a princess.” Our heads snapped up at the sound of Gian’s voice in the doorway. “She’s my queen, and I’ll bow at her feet for the rest of my life.”

“Okay, then,” Mila said with a quiver in her voice. “But…But I need to see my sister often. She’s my other half. I’ll lose my m

ind if I don’t get a regular dose of her sweetness.”

“You are welcome to visit us as often as you please,” Gian told her, making me fall in love with him all over again. “And I will bring her to visit you whenever she asks.”

“Mila!” Lyric called out and pushed in behind Gian. Gian glared at him, but Lyric glared back, not in the least bit intimidated by my crime lord, and then looked at Mila. “This guy downstairs called Monroe Mrs. Fontana.”

Mila gasped and pinched my side. “Did you get married and not tell me?” she demanded, sounding hurt.

“Damn it, Monroe!” Maverick scolded. “Mom is going to be so pissed you got married without us.”

“I didn’t get married,” I told them with a roll of my eyes. “Gian just makes the poor doctor call me Mrs. Fontana.”

“Soon, you will be,” Gian said with a shrug. “Why confuse the man when you will only be a Masterson for a short time longer?”

“You still haven’t asked me to marry you,” I reminded him in a voice full of all the sass my sister’s voice tended to possess more often than not.

“Asking gives you the chance to say no.”

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