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Kane: I’ll tell you later. Nothing dangerous, just tedious and I need him to get into the security system. I love you.

Me: I love you too.

Normally I wouldn’t have replied, but we’ve had too many close calls over the last few months that I’m not willing to waste another second not telling these people how much they mean to me. I shift and feel the plug and debate about just leaving it in and taking the rest of my punishment because I know I deserve it for being a little shit.

My phone buzzes again.

Kane: I know what you’re thinking. Let Ari take the plug out. Let Alice watch. I’ll make it up to you tonight.

That’s incentive enough. I push my phone back into my pocket, then lift her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Ari’s waiting upstairs, love. How tired are you?”

She perks up a bit, her dark eyes alight with interest. “In your room?”

“He might be. Or in his. Want to go find out?”

She knows I’ve been tortured for days now. She’s been watching—enjoying. The night before last, she lay with her back against Kane’s chest while he fingered her until she was begging to come, her eyes on me as I watched from my spot in the corner.

I wasn’t allowed to touch, to speak, to move. I just had to feel every inch of the space between us as he made our girl come all over his bare skin. Fuck, it must have been torture for him too, but I also know why he’s waiting.

Kane wears guilt like a badge of honor. He blames himself for what Guido did to his sister—to his family. He blames himself for all the fear and stress and torment Alice suffered when we first brought her in.

I remember the look on his face when he found out she was starving herself. It looked like anger, but I knew better. We all did. He was hurting. He was hating himself.

He’s making it up to her now by making her the queen and ensuring that every moment of his ceremony is important and holds the weight of their marriage. He’s ensuring she has a place here at our sides and that she understands she’s our equal now and always will be.

I lean in and kiss her gently before pulling back. “Come on. Lead the way.”

She does, and I keep my hand at the small of her back because she’s still dragging a bit, and each stair seems to take her twice as much effort. If our doctor hadn’t already told us that was normal, I’d be losing my mind with worry.

She’s slightly out of breath by the time we make it to the top, and I make a note to use the damn elevator next time. But her steps pick up a little when we both smell a bit of clove smoke from under my closed bedroom door, and she immediately turns the handle and walks in.

Ari’s there—half-dressed, lounging on my bed with the fly of his jeans open and no shirt on. He’s got one arm behind his head, the clove cigarette clenched between his teeth, and his eyes are smiling with lowered, pale red lashes.

‘Hi,’ he signs.

“Hi yourself,” I tell him as I shrug my jacket off and let it hang on the hook by the door. My fingers itch to pull the button on my jeans, but I can already see from the way Ari’s staring at me that he has instructions. I glance at the bedside table where the camera’s set up, and I can see where it’s pointed.

His gaze flickers over to it, and I obey the silent command. My thighs start to tremble with anticipation as I let my arm hang loose at my side and my legs hold me up in a wide V.

‘You can sit,’ he signs slowly to Alice. She’s been working her pretty little ass off at ASL, and she gets it in one go. She nods and perches herself at the head of the bed, resting against my flattened pillow.

I’m hot all over and my mouth is dry, and suddenly, every piece of clothing I have on feels unbearable. I meet Ari’s gaze and shudder at the sight of his smirk. Bloody hell, he’s going to make me work for it. My skin heats as I watch him slowly slide off the mattress. He’s still got that fucking clove pinched between his teeth, and he sucks on it, lighting the cherry up bright red just as he stops in front of me.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I tell him.

His cheeks turn dusky pink with the praise. I know I’m not the one meant to be in charge here, but I can’t help it. There’s nothing any of us can do to break through the walls Ari’s built.We can’t undo the trauma or heal the permanent scars that fractured his ability to love.

But we can constantly remind him until the day we die—or he does—that it doesn’t matter. That he’s still perfect to us in his own way.

His long-fingered hand lifts, pulling the clove from between his lips, and he turns it. I take a deep inhale, feeling the acrid burn worse than any of my smokes. The taste is sweet, though—sort of fruity—and I hold it in for as long as I can.

Ari grabs me before I exhale, sealing his mouth over mine, and he takes the inhale into his own lungs. It’s not a kiss—it’s damn near a mockery of one, and he knows it by the smile on his face as he steps back and lets the white tendrils of shared smoke drift from his open mouth.

“God,” Alice murmurs.

She’s been horny as fuck since the pregnancy hormones really took hold, and I realize now this is both a treat for her and maybe a little bit of torture from Kane. The bastard. I look over my shoulder at her, and we lock eyes until Ari grabs my chin and wrenches my gaze away.

‘Me.’ He jabs his finger against his chest.

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