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As the twins were about to get into the limo, Willow Marshall’s red Ferrari flew through the front gate and up the driveway. She hopped out of the car, dressed in skimpy black shorts and a low-cut red spaghetti strap top that showed off too much cleavage. Her dad wouldn’t have been thrilled with this outfit.
The only daughter of Cole and Grace Marshall, Willow was best friends with the twins. My boys had a thing for the girl, even though they pretended their feelings were platonic.
“I’m sorry,” Willow said in a singsong tone as she rushed over to my sons. “I got stuck in traffic.” She flung herself into their arms. “You wouldn’t have left without me. Would you?”
“No way,” Leo said.
Angelo nodded.
My sons lifted her sandal-clad feet off the ground. She was a year younger than the twins and a foot shorter. And beautiful like her mother. Willow’s parents both had blonde hair and blue eyes. But she looked like Grace’s twin.
“Ma’s already having a nervous breakdown,” Leo said with laughter in his voice. “Don’t give us shit, too.”
“I’m not.” She dried the tears sliding down her cheeks with her shirt. “But I’m going to miss you.” Then she turned to look at Angelo and touched his cheek. “Maybe you, too.”
Angelo snickered. “You better miss me, Willy.”
Her nose scrunched at his nickname that he used to annoy her. “Just for that name alone, I’m going to miss Leo more.”
Angelo bent down, whispering something I couldn’t hear.
Blush spread across her cheeks. “Angelo.” She giggled and slapped his chest. “Stop it.”
Willow put her hands on her slim waist, shoving up her already short top. The twins’ eyes lowered to take in each of her curves, looking like animals on the hunt and ready to attack.
I shook my head.
“They’re so cute,” Alex whispered. “Leave the boys alone.”
I slipped my fingers between hers and squeezed her hand. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” she said with a groan. “I know what you’re thinking.”
In this case, she didn’t know what trick I had up my sleeve. It was a thought that had been percolating for a long time. If our sons were to share one woman, it would have been Willow Marshall.
Keeping that in mind, I considered her a potential match. Our boys would have an arranged marriage. That was how we did things in our world. All of our kids would marry someone connected. And since Cole was a Founder and a Knight, Willow was a perfect choice.
The union was a smart play.
We could use the Marshalls’ political connections. They were an old-money military family. Most of the Marshall men were either high-ranking military or politicians.
After everyone had said their goodbyes, I escorted my boys to the limo. I closed the door, so I could speak to them alone.
“Listen to me,” I said in a firm tone. “You are never to tell your mother the truth about initiation.”
“But she’s the queen. Doesn’t she know already?” Leo asked.
I shook my head. “No, and it will stay that way. She would be heartbroken if she knew what you’re about to do to become Knights.”
They stared at me with wide-eyed expressions.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.
I wasn’t lying to Alex.
It wouldn’t help her state of mind to know all the horrible shit her boys would do over the next few months. Cato had a few more years until it was his turn. At least she had over a decade before she had to worry about Saint joining his brothers.
