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He trails off like he doesn’t have the words for it. There’s more than heat in his eyes, and when I glance at Vic and Ransom, I can see it’s the same for them. There’s pride there too, shining at me from three directions, and something that looks kind of like awe.
That knowledge makes my stomach clench in a different way. A much better way.
It makes me feel powerful, having these three men feel this way about me. It reminds me that I’m strong the same way the scars and cuts and bruises do. That I can get through this, because I’ve come through everything else that’s been thrown at me.
I can do this.
“We should get going,” Vic says, running a hand over his hair even though there isn’t a single dark strand out of place. “The invitation I found said the party starts at eight.”
“Yeah, but it’s more normal to be fashionably late to these things,” Ransom replies. “You know how these rich fucks love to make an entrance. Everyone’s already there, and they get to show off their outfits or their jewels they just bought from exploiting children in other countries.”
Malice snorts and Vic shakes his head, but Ransom does have a point.
“Are you ready?” Vic asks me, looking into my eyes.
I take another deep breath, shaking out my hands to dispel a little nervous energy.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight.”
“We’ve covered all the bases we can,” Malice says, glancing to his twin for confirmation.
Vic nods. “We’re covered. All that’s left to do is go talk to Olivia. If you’re ready, butterfly.”
I lick my lips, glancing at all three of them in turn. If I had to go do this by myself, it would be much harder to agree, but knowing they’ll have my back and will make sure nothing bad happens tonight—as much as they can, at least—helps so much.
So I nod. “I’m ready.”
Malice claps his hands once. “Then let’s go do this shit.”
He leads the way to the door, and we follow him out, getting into the car. For once, Vic lets Ransom ride shotgun, sliding into the back with me.
Once we pull out of the small parking lot and get onto the highway, my heart starts pounding, thoughts of how tonight could go wrong racing through my head. What if the judge they blackmailed went back on the deal? What if Olivia tries to grab me right there at the party? What if it’s all a trap?
Before I know it, I’m breathing harder, swallowing and trying to get a handle on myself, but it’s hard. Olivia’s already proven how dangerous she is, and that she’s willing to do whatever it takes to get what she wants.
Killing Troy was one thing, and at least as his widow, I have more power in this world now. But Olivia is going to be even trickier to deal with. What if she—
My rambling train of thought is cut off by a hand sliding into mine.
I glance down to see Vic’s fingers lacing through my own. His large hand envelops mine, and he squeezes lightly, offering comfort.
“It’s going to be fine,” he murmurs. “Breathe for me.”
I force myself to take a deep breath and then another, clinging on to his hand as tightly as I can.
Breathe, Willow. Just keep breathing.
The party is being held at a high-rise building in the heart of Detroit, and it only takes us about thirty minutes to reach it. There’s a valet out front, but Malice parks the car himself, and we all get out, heading for the door together.
There’s a doorman checking people’s names off a list, and I square my shoulders, trying to channel calm and give the impression that I’m supposed to be here.
The doorman looks us all over and raises an eyebrow.
“Name?” he asks, sounding half bored, half like he’s pretty sure he’s not going to find my name on the list.
“Willow,” I tell him. “Willow… Copeland.”
It tastes bad in my mouth to say it, but I know it’s our ticket in. The guys tense behind me, and I swear I can feel a shift in their emotions like a physical thing. They hate that name as much as I do, or maybe even more, if that’s possible. But it’s part of the plan. They know I have to do it.
