Page 167 of Barinov

Luciana’s gaze softens as she holds out a hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you two boys,” she says with a practiced smile.

“Nice to meet you,” I say, taking her hand.

Lex just offers a quick nod.

“And this is Damien,” Roman continues. “Lex’s cousin.”

“Call me Rez,” he says, his tone easy despite the rain.

“A pleasure, Rez.”

Her gaze shifts, suddenly stilling as it lands on Daniel.

“Darling,” Roman continues, placing a palm on the small of her back. “You remember Dan.”

Luciana gives Lex’s dad a polite nod, her expression cooling. “Surprised to see you here, Daniel,” she says softly. “Last time, you and your Ice Queen weren’t exactly thrilled by my presence.”

Lex snorts into his fist beside me.

“We’ve decided to put the past where it belongs, dear,” Roman says, his voice a quiet warning. “For Bella.”

“Irina will come around,” Daniel says, stepping up and resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, Luciana.”

“Well,” she says, turning toward the heavy oak doors, “let’s get you out of the rain then, shall we?”

We follow her up the stairs and into the foyer. It opens into a cathedral of marble and glass. Everything polished to a mirror sheen. Light pulls through the towering windows. It bounces off of the golden accents and carved stone, reflecting the storm outside into a million pieces.

“All your rooms are ready,” she says, gesturing with a flick of her wrist toward a sweeping staircase. “Fresh linens, towels, anything you need. Make yourselves at home.”

“Thank you,” I say while taking in the beauty of this place.

“Dinner will be ready in about an hour,” she says, interlocking her fingers with Roman’s. “We’ll let you get settled.”

♥♥♥

Later that night.

“Damn,” Lex moans, rubbing his stomach. “Roman’s wife can fucking cook.”

“Right?” I say, stretching my arms over my head as I lean back against the headboard. “Who would have thought squid ink pasta would be so… divine.”

“And the tiramisu?” Lex practically drools as he flops back onto the bed.

He’s down to nothing but his boxers. The bruises and scratches from The Blackout practice are nearly healed, fading into dull lines against his skin. He’s quiet. Way too quiet for post-dinner Lex. Usually, he’s a whirlwind of restless energy, but now he just looks drained.

“What’s wrong, babe?” I ask, shifting beside him.

He huffs out a breath, rolling his head slightly. “Who knows. Probably slept wrong on the damn plane.” His fingers press harder into the muscle of his shoulder. “Necks a wreck.”

Bullshit. I can see the lie in the way his jaw is set, but I don’t call him on it. Instead, I nudge his shoulder. “Roll over.”

He glances at me, something flickering in his eyes as a devilish smirk forms on his face.

“Not for that,” I laugh, though the heat in his gaze makes my pulse skip. “Just roll over.”

He sighs, a heavy sound that vibrates through the mattress, and flips onto his stomach. I swing my leg over him and settle against his hips. My hands find his shoulders, the skin warm beneath my palm. He grunts when I press my thumbs into the knots along his spine.

“You ready for tomorrow?” I ask, lowering my voice.