Page 109 of The Devil’s Lair

“Vicky, leave her alone,” Imogen says, firing a sympathetic smile my way. “You deserve a man who’ll treat you like a queen.” She angles her head. “He does, right? Because if he doesn’t, brother-in-law or not, I’ll have his balls in a sling.”

“You’ll need to get in line,” Vicky says. “Rebecca’s one of us now, and we girls stick together.”

“Whose balls are we slinging?” Grace appears from behind me, her perfect figure poured into a deep purple number that plunges to her belly button and skims the floor.

“Tobias’s if he doesn’t treat our girl Rebecca right.”

“They’ve fucked,” Vicky helpfully supplies. “And Rebecca is going to give us all the dirty details over lunch, right?”

“Ooh. I knew something was afoot over breakfast. He kept looking at you as though he wanted to eat you.”

“Bet he already has, right?” Vicky winks.

I can’t help laughing. “You women are terrible.”

They are, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face. These people are my found family, my friends. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.

I thought nothing could top the Harrod’s Penthouse shopping experience, but lunch at The Dorchester is right up there. It’s all so opulent. I’m trying not to gape at everything and give away how out of my depth I am, but it’s difficult.

The others, though, fit right in. Even Grace, who I know didn’t come from money like Imogen and Vicky. Perhaps, in time, I’ll get used to the star treatment and won’t feel like a spare part.

I keep shooting the odd furtive glance to my left, where the four burly bodyguards—one for each of us—stand conspicuously in the entrance, arms folded, biceps bulging through their suit jackets. It’s one more thing to get used to by marrying into this family. Once again, I’m the only one from our table paying them any attention. Plenty of other guests keep giving them the side-eye, though. The Dorchester must be okay with it because they haven’t insisted the bodyguards leave.

We order our food, and the second the server retreats, Vicky props her elbows on the table and rests her chin on her folded hands.

“Time to spill the beans.”

I shake my head. “I’m not giving you gory details.”

Vicky pouts. “Spoilsport. At least tell us if we’re right and you two have fu⁠—”

“Moved your relationship onto the next level,” Imogen interjects, giving Vicky a scolding look.

Vicky just laughs. “Yeah, what she said.”

“We have,” I say. “Now, can we drop it?”

Vicky squeals. “I’m so glad. I love Tobias, and he deserves to be happy, as do you. From the moment he brought you home, I knew, I just knew you two were perfect for each other, and after, well, what you went through with that piece of shit you were married to, I’m not surprised it took you a while to trust that Tobias won’t hurt you, too. But yay.” She claps her hands.

“And she said all that without drawing breath,” Grace says, grinning. “We’re so happy for you both.”

“Let’s leave the poor woman alone now,” Imogen says.

“Okay, what else can we gossip about?” Vicky leans in conspiratorially. “Any of you know what’s going on with Saskia?”

“No,” Grace replies. “But I was only saying this morning to Christian that something is afoot. She’s definitely hiding something.”

Relieved to have the conversation move onto someone else, I sit back and let their chatter flow over me. I haven’t had many happy days in my life, but this is right up there, and my instincts tell me it’s only the beginning.

Imogen sent her personal team to do my hair and makeup, and as I stand in front of the mirror, I don’t even recognize myself. Who is this striking, confident-looking woman who once cowered at the slightest noise and now stands tall? I still have moments where I wobble, but that’s to be expected. Marcus’s claws burrowed in deep, and it’s taking time to dig them out. I’m well on my way, though, thanks to Jane’s help and Tobias’s unwavering support.

Excitement as well as nerves unfurl in my belly. I’ve never been to an honest-to-goodness ball before. I hope I don’t mess up and embarrass Tobias.

Isla tugs on my dress. “Pretty Mama.”

If I live to a hundred, I will never get sick of hearing Isla talk. I want to hug her therapist every time I think about it. The thought of where I’d be if Tobias hadn’t rescued me and given me and Isla a future is the stuff of nightmares. One day, I hope, I’ll be able to put the past where it belongs and live in the now.

“Thank you, pumpkin.” I flick the end of her nose. “Are you going to be good for Maisie?” Imogen has kindly offered to have a member of her personal household staff sit with Isla so I don’t have to take the baby monitor to the ball. I like Maisie. She’ll take good care of Isla. Even Tobias was agreeable to the idea, which, considering what we now know about Ava, tells me all I need to know about Maisie’s credentials.