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Chapter Ten
Ivy
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IPUSHED OPEN MY FRONTdoor and stepped into the hallway, tossing my keys on the side. It was late. Mara would have gone to bed already, and I hoped none of my father’s men were around. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. All I wanted was to relive the sex I was having with Jayden over and over in my head. I’d never experienced anything like it before. The way he touched me and the things he said to me drove me crazy. I basked in his adoration.
He’d said he was falling in love with me, and I hadn’t said it back. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to. I worried about what admitting such a thing would instigate. And Jesus, he’d even talked about babies. I’d never for one minute thought Jayden Wynter would be the sort of man who’d want to settle down, yet here he was, imagining a future that was impossible for us. Was that why he was talking about it—because he knew it would never happen? Perhaps it was a safe fantasy.
Something was strange—something off and different about the house. There was a weird atmosphere.
I paused. Was someone else here? The place was in darkness. Was it Mara?
I didn’t like to walk around armed as I knew my brothers often did, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know how to fire a gun. There was one attached underneath the top shelf of the hall unit in case of emergencies. I almost wished I’d thought to take it with me the night I was attacked, but you couldn’t normally get away with carrying a loaded gun into a nightclub in London—not that it didn’t happen, of course.
Before I could give it any more consideration, a light came on farther into the house, and I froze.
“Ivy?”
Confusion rushed through me. That was my father’s voice.
“Dad?”
I followed the light into the dining room. To my surprise, it wasn’t only my father in there, sitting around the dining room table, but both of my brothers, too. My dad, Greyson Gilligan, was at the head of the table. To his right was my eldest brother, Bruno, and across from Bruno sat Aiden. They all looked deeply serious.
“What are you all doing here?” I asked. “Why are you sitting around in the dark? Did you not want someone to know you were here?”
Who was the someone? Was it me? Why would they not want me to know they were here?
My stomach knotted. This was bad. I could tell.
“Sit down, Ivy,” my father said.
I looked at all their faces, trying to read what this was about, but couldn’t.
I slid into one of my chairs and placed both hands on the table, as though trying to show them I had nothing to hide.
