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“Gabe—”
I reach out to grab his arm, but he darts away from me and slips into the cafeteria crowd. Noah watches him leave, his coal-eyes wreathed in orange.
“What’s up with him?” Eli asks as Gabriel pushes his way through the crowd in the cafeteria and heads out toward the bleachers.
Ah, so he hasn’t said anything. Guess we’re having this conversation, then.
I shovel a mouthful of kale salad. “Oh, he’s mad because I told his father we’re getting married.”
Eli drops his fork. Noah’s hands ball into fists as he swivels his intense eyes toward me. “You did what?”
“I’m going to… go over there.” George quickly snaps up her tray and races off, leaving me alone to face the wrath of Eli and Noah.
“So, tell us about this marriage.” Eli gives me a wobbly smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s basically exactly what you were talking about a few minutes ago. If Gabe and I married, we align ourselves with a powerful family, get me out of this stupid wedding with the Imperators, and take another valuable market away from Nero. And any child we might have would inherit his father’s estate. It was a good idea – how was I to know it wouldn’t work because the randy old goat was screwing Cleo?”
Neither Eli nor Noah picks up on my Cleo news. Noah’s eyes narrow. “You were just going to marry Gabe without talking it over with us?”
“What about Nero and Constantine?” Eli says. “What will your other husbands say about that?”
“I don’t give a fuck what they say because I’m getting out of that. And this thing with Gabe isn’t a real marriage,” I say. “I mean, it would have to be real in order to claim the estate, but it’s not about me choosing Gabe over either of you. If I wanted to get married now and I had a choice, I’d marry all of you. But that’s not a legal option, and if I marry Gabe and string the duke along thinking there will be an heir, we’ll get possession of his estate, and I take the Grey Death business away from Nero, which is another massive blow right in his cajones—”
“I’m going to find Gabe.” Noah rises.
“Noah, what the fuck—”
But he’s gone, his huge shoulders shuffling away from me. Seriously, what the hell is going on?
I turn back to Eli. “So this is it? I spend every moment of every day trying to figure out how to keep this family safe, and instead of discussing your problem with my plan like adults, you act like spoiled children being forced to share a toy?”
“You’re not a toy, Claws. You’re our girl.” Eli frowns. He reaches across the table and places his fingers tenderly over mine. “I get what you were attempting; really, I do. But you’re thinking like Claws the mafia queen. Just for a moment, can you see this as Claudia, our girlfriend?”
I shove his hand away. “I don’t have that luxury anymore. If I want to keep you safe, I have to make hard decisions. We all do. You all said you were in this. You all agreed to wear my mark with pride. Well, this is what it means to be with me. It means that everything is up for negotiation, even my fucking womb if it means my family will live another day. So what is it, Eli? You still want in?”
I don’t wait for an answer. I shove my own chair back and storm out.
Claudia
THWACK.
Plaster rains down on me as the sledgehammer connects with the wall. The drywall caves in, leaving a fist-sized hole.
Adrenaline courses through my body as I swing again. It feels good to smash shit. Better this wall than three stupid boy faces. I can’t believe they’re having an emo moment about me marrying Gabriel and a baby that doesn’t even exist.
And what’s the big deal for Gabe, anyway? He wants to marry me. He said so literally the day before. As if I don’t have enough to deal with, I’ve now got to add three fragile male egos into the mix.
I yell as I bring the sledgehammer over my head and pummel the wall again, and again, until the drywall is sagging and riddled with holes and cracks. I drop the sledgehammer and George hands me a crowbar, which I use to tear out the remaining drywall.
I’ve had plenty of practice in my rage room. But today, I’m not just venting my frustration on a perfectly innocent wall. We’re looking for the secrets hiding behind it and—
“Argh!” I cry as a stream of water hits me in the face, sending me reeling. George leans in to look. She’s blasted backward as a second leak tears through the wall, spraying filthy, stinking water all over the basement. And me.
George flails her arms as she tries to stand on the slippery tiles. “I was sure there would be a compartment behind that wall.”
“There is,” I yell as I try to beat my way out of the stream of water. “For pipes and shit. But no treasure.”
George crawls across the basement floor toward me. She grabs me under the shoulders and together we stagger over to the steps. We climb, squeezing water out of our soaking clothes, and collapse in a heap in the hallway.
