He was very pretty.
I wondered where his omega was.
“She’s fine,” Logan growled, tightening his hold on me. “She wanted to be here. We’re just greeting our guests. Plus, she’s deaf. Don’t talk to her.”
The lie sounded rougher this time.
The man in green didn’t look convinced.
“If she were deaf, she wouldn’t look when spoken to,” he said calmly, eyes flicking over me. “Just look at her. Her lips are turning blue.”
“It’s makeup,” Logan snapped. “She’s fine.”
Another alpha stood. This one wore orange. He looped an arm around the green-suited man’s waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
For a second, I couldn’t tell if I was hallucinating.
Then the orange-suited man looked at Logan like he was something on the bottom of his shoe.
“The rumor around town is that Mr. Stellar had to rely on certain less than legal heat clinic’s pharmaceuticals to get his heir,” he said lightly. His nails were painted a glossy beige that caught the light when he beckoned me closer. “No wonder he doesn’t care about his omega. Sweetheart, bonds can be broken. Anyone would be lucky to have an omega of your pedigree. Come here.”
The air shifted.
My breathing got worse.
“Mr. and Mr. Devereaux,” Logan said smoothly, even though his jaw was locked tight, “I appreciate your concern, but it’s impolite to speak to my wife like that.”
The man in green—Mr. Devereaux—didn’t take his eyes off me.
“I’m being perfectly polite,” he replied. “Omegas are meant to becherished. And knowing our money is in such careless hands doesn’t sit well with us.”
“Perhaps we should pull our investments,” the man in orange said, clicking his tongue softly. “The Rossis deal with money, too. And I’ve heard Vincent has two omegas he cherishes.”
The name hit the room like a match to gasoline.
Vincent.
My Vinny.
Logan went very still and something unfurled in my chest.
“The Rossis,” Logan said slowly, “are not part of this conversation.”
“No?” Mr. Devereaux tilted his head. “Because it sounds like they understand something you do not.”
My lungs burned.
I tried to inhale. It stalled halfway again.
My hands lifted weakly between us before I could stop them.
Vinny.
My attempt at fingerspelling his name was messy, shaky. So I switched to easier signs.
Home.
Help.
