“Her twin sister…” Kyran murmurs, leaning against the wall, phone out. “She works here. Cleans. She was at their wedding.”
“I must’ve missed her since I had to leave right after the vows…” Lukas cocks his head in Viktor’s direction. “Since when do we keep a maid?”
“Since Morana,” Kyran notes.
Lukas pauses, to do math, I think. Then he says, “Is it strange that she’s our sister, but she works for us?”
Kyran’s gaze blackens, icy eyes hardening. “No. Because she’snotour sister. She’s that one’s wife’s sister, and she wanted to keep working.”
Lukas hums. “Does she wear a sexy little uniform? Is that why you’re against her being our sister? Because, last I checked—” He grips Zakery’s shoulder, shaking him a bit, which the artist in no way seems to mind as his own set of crazy eyes spark happily. “—this one’swife’s sisterwould be ours, too.”
Kyran only responds to that with a harsh glare.
Viktor takes advantage of the tension to home in on me. “Lukas…who’s that?”
Tangling my fingers together against my stomach, I stay where I am, hoping my day-old work clothes—sans apron—are appropriate to meet royalty in. Hoping the squeak I released when everyone’s focus zeroed in wasn’t…that loud.
Lukas threads his fingers into his hair and casts a casual look back up toward where I’m frozen at the entrance. Nonchalant, he says, “That’s Clara.”
“Clara?” Viktor states.
“Clara,” Lukas repeats.
Viktor’s nostrils flare with a deep breath, which he lets out in a harried sigh. “Lukas. So help me. Are you married?”
“To…Clara?” Lukas asks.
Zakery snickers, which isveryunlike the calm, cool, and collected Zakery I know from media. Now that I’m thinking about it, actually… The insanity in his eyes is also very unlike the calm, cool, and collected Zakery I know from media. Mischievous smirk in place, Zakery breaks all of his branding to pieces as he says, “Viktor has this complex that all of us are racing to get married before he and Crisis can tie the knot.”
“Isthatwhat we’re doing?” Lukas asks, conversationally, almostconsideringit. Before, of course, he gets immediatelydistracted. “Speaking of, where is Crisis? And Kaleb, for that matter.”
“Kaleb and Crisis went to meet Crimson at her office and drag her home for family dinner. Also,no. That is not what we’re doing.” Viktor swipes a hand down his stubble. “Kaleb and Crimson are having a double wedding with Crisis and me come April, though.” Viktor cuts a sharp look toward Zakery. “Theyat least had the decency towaitfive minutes.”
“I could not contain my love,” Zakery provides, blameless.
“Kaleb and Crimson are getting married, too?” Lukas drops his hand from his hair. “Boy, I go on one tour and miss everything.” A moment of silence passes, then Lukas says, “Well, I’m hungry.” He snaps his fingers. “Come on, cupcake.”
Shoulders bunching, I force my legs to move me forward.
Zakery asks, “Clara’s joining us?”
“Clara lives here now,” Lukas informs everyone.
Viktor grips Lukas’s shoulder, stopping him in place. Gaining a fortifying breath, he says, “…what?”
“I brought home a personal baker for us.”
Viktor repeats, “What?”
“What?” Lukas swats his older brother’s hand off his shoulder. “Zakery brought home a pretty model seamstress. Kyran gets her sister maid. I’m allowed to have a baker.”
“I do not ‘get’ her sister maid,” Kyran mumbles. “Also, she was Zakery’s fault, too, has nothing to do with me, and all you deserve is a lobotomy.”
“Uh-huh,” Lukas says, disinterested. “The point is, Viktor, you can’t judge us for bringing home pretty, talented women just because their skills aren’t necessities. Not everyone can plan your life and help you manage a city via Canva Whiteboards like Crisis.”
I’m fairly certain with an ounce of dedication that statement is false. Canva is known for being dreadfully intuitive.
Viktor’s eye twitches. “First of all, Crisis and I are getting married, yet shestilldoesn’t live here, so I’d argue that I haven’tbrought homeanyone.” Cussing, Viktor pinches the bridge of his nose. “Second of all, you’re supposed to bring home souvenirs when you come back from tour, notpeople.”
“Souvenirs are knickknacks. You, brother dear, do notlikeknickknacks.” Lukas lifts a hand. “On the contrary, how many of us like people?”
Zakery raises his hand, smile blinding.
“Kyran?” Lukas prompts.
“No.”
Lukas huffs. “Kaleb needs to get back here and join the poll. I’m certain we’re three to two with his help…” Dropping his hand, Lukas reaches for mine and grips, pulling me straight through the middle of his brothers. “It doesn’t matter either way, though. Clara lives here now. Get over it.”
Judging by the way Viktor’s scowl deepens…I don’t think he’ll be getting over it any time soon.
