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My heart starts to beat faster. My tongue darts out to wet my dry lips.
“But…it did,” I say quietly.
Castle’s eyes narrow. “Stop it.”
“You can’t just pretend something didn’t—”
“You’re missing your own birthday party, Callie,” he says quietly, with an iron edge to his voice. I swear he leans down a little closer to me when he says it, though.
My hand lifts, my fingers brushing the front of his button-up shirt. Instantly, his much larger one grabs my wrist tightly, pulling my hand away.
“One thing you’ll learn as you get older, Callie,” he growls. “Is thatyou canpretend something didn’t happen. And then go on living your life as if it didn’t. Believe me.”
He pulls away and steps back out of the alcove. My soul screams for more of him, and my heart wrenches.
“Happy birthday.”
Then he’s gone, out to the waiting party.
* * *
The current shitshowthat is my life notwithstanding, dinner isamazing. I do everything in my power to avoid even looking down the table to where Castle’s sitting. I joke with my brothers and my friends, and drink really good champagne, and eat delicious food until we’re all stuffed and smiling.
Even if my grin is half fake.
The waitstaff Ya-ya hired for the party is just setting down cups of coffee and plates of cake—chocolate with chocolate frosting, myfavorite—when suddenly, everyone’s attention is caught by an unmistakable noise, and people start looking around in confusion.
“Shit!” Ares snarls, lurching from his chair and pointing. “Chopper!”
Instantly, we’re up, with all four of my brothers, Castle, and Cillian pulling guns out and training them on the black helicopter as it slowly descends from the sky. Hades is barking orders into his phone—probably calling the guards posted on the street and on some of the floors below—as the heli slowly touches down on the grass.
“Keep back!” Castle roars, his gun aimed at the helicopter as the engines cut out and the door slides open. A staircase lowers, and slowly, a man steps out and walks down to the ground.
A lethally good-looking man with dark black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a chiseled, aristocratic jaw in a black suit. A man who seems completely unfazed by all the guns trained on him as he calmly strolls toward the table.
“Fuck, Ares,” Hades hisses next to me, glancing at our older brother. “That’s—”
“Massimo Carveli,” Ares finishes in an edged voice. “Luca’s fuckingson.”
My heart drops. My face pales as the man ambles into the glow of the string lights and torches. His mouth pulls into a menacing smile as he plucks someone’s flute of champagne off the table and brings it to his lips. He takes a sip, rolling his neck before suddenly, his eyes land right on me.
“A very happy birthday to you, Calliope,” he purrs in a deep, Sicilian-accented voice.
For some reason, instinctively, my eyes dart to Castle. His face is grim and lined, his arm muscles rippling as he keeps the gun trained on Massimo.
“What do you want, Mr. Carveli,” Ares growls thinly.
“For a start, I’d like all of you to stop pointing your guns at me. Clearly, I’m unarmed, and alone.”
“Well that was fucking stupid on your part, wasn’t it?” Hades mutters under his breath before Ares shuts him up with a look.
Ares glances around the circle and nods before he lowers his own gun and slips it back into his jacket.
“You’re neither a friend nor an ally of this family, and we have no business together. So I’m going to ask you one more fucking time, politely, why the fuck you just landed a helicopter in my grandmother’s yard in the middle of a private party. And then, I’m going to ask not so politely.”
Massimo chuckles, sipping the champagne in his tattooed hand.
“Then I’ll be brief. I’m sure the last thing your dear sister wants on her birthday isimpoliteness.” His piercing eyes swivel to mine. “Isn’t that right, Calliope?”
