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“I’d love to, but Diego’s first soccer game is today.”
Diego is Gabriella’s nephew she loves spoiling.
“That’s right. Well, tell him to break a leg! Er—or I think good luck will do.”
She laughs as she puts on her coat.
“Will do. See you later, Miss Anya,” she calls as she rushes out the door, something falling out of her bag as she exits.
The door is closed before I can even call out, but I walk over to grab the item when something catches my eye. It’s one of her fashion magazines. I erupt with laughter, reading the title, then head straight for the page the article is on.
Nico struts his delicious-looking self into the kitchen, drawing my attention. He’s clearly just finished his workout. We figured out early on we needed to keep our training schedules separate. Otherwise, we’d get nothing done.
Our new penthouse takes up the top three floors of the building. The bottom level is our state-of-the-art gym you can only access through our second level, which has the kitchen, living room, and our two studies. The top level is for our bedroom and two other guest suites.
Nico’s in nothing but gray sweatpants and sweat. I bite my lip, unable to take my eyes off his tattooed covered torso, arms, and neck—not to mention his incredibly hard physique.
God bless gray sweatpants.
“My eyes are here, baby,” he says with a wink. “What are you giggling about?” He opens the cupboard to grab a glass before he fills it with water.
Instead of answering, I get up to fix him a cup of coffee and give my husband a kiss. He leans right into me, grabbing my ass.
The doorbell rings, and I pull away to unlock my phone.
“The girls,” I explain as I grant them elevator access from an app.
Less than a minute later, they walk into the kitchen.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Nico digs, and I laugh.
“What question?” Donna saunters over, gives me a quick kiss and hug, then moves on to Nico.
Lili, Maya, and Max follow, arms full of what I assume are wedding items.
“What’s this?” Maya chuckles, grabbing the magazine from me.
I answer whimsically, “Oh, just an article on Nico’s ex-girlfriends before he”—I snatch the magazine out of Maya’s hand as I clear my throat and put on my best reporter impression—“officially loses his bachelor status and is shackled down forever by the Chinese-American Princess.”
“Seriously, is this what journalism is now?” Max says, shaking her head and heading straight for the coffee.
“I don’t like the use of ‘shackled.’” Donna scrunches her nose.
“They couldn’t even use your name?” Lili huffs as she sets several gift bags down.
“Apparently not. I’m just Nico’s wife to them,” I reply, while Nico proudly wiggles his eyebrows.
“Well, I’m all for the man taking the woman’s last name. What do you think, Mr. Liu?” Max says to Nico before smiling into her coffee, earning giggles from the gallery.
Max is both a firecracker and genius, which is why she’s The Chemist. However, only a handful of us know her real identity.
Nico responds by wiggling his eyebrows as he shoves a piece of bacon into his mouth.
“Who’s on the list?” Donna reaches out with grabby hands for the magazine.
“It’s a good one,” I answer as I line up glasses for mimosas.
“First of all, I don’t have ex-girlfriends. They were women I fucked, and now, I have a wife,” Nico replies.
