Bombshell (The Rivals #3) - Geneva Lee Page 0,132

to protect without breaking its own rules—a problem that none of us have.

Except Jack, apparently.

I ignore Jack and Luca’s debate and open the envelope. “You said this came with flowers?”

“Lots of flowers,” Kai says. “It looks like a florist exploded. It’s actually really romantic.”

“Romantic, huh?” Jack teases.

“I know what’s romantic. I make my living singing love songs.”

I slip the card out and read it, unable to hide my surprise when I see Nikolai’s name signed at the bottom. I’m not sure if it's a gift or a threat, but I suspect the former after his relationship advice.

There’s a knock at the door and Sutton’s dark head pokes inside. “Everyone decent?”

“Unfortunately,” Luca says.

“Terribly disappointing.” She joins him, passing me a folded piece of paper. “From your daughter.”

My daughter. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to that. I love those words. I love hearing them. I love thinking them. Still, it’s surreal like someone turned a mirror on my life. Everything is there, but somehow it’s all changed, too. Upside down. Inside out. It should make me uncomfortable, but it doesn’t. It just feels...right.

I unfold it and smile. Judging by the looks of it, she’s drawn me along with her and Adair. Zeus, a near constant in all her pictures, is at our feet. The new house in the background.

“What’s that?” Luca asks, looking over my shoulder at a round blob in the air next to Ellie’s stick figure.

“No clue,” I admit.

“Your kid’s a shitty artist,” he says, taking a sip of whiskey.

“She’s five.”

“I’m just saying that her talents lie elsewhere. Maybe she’ll take after you.” He elbows me in the ribs.

“I hope not,” Jack says. His smile falters when he sees my face, and he changes the subject. “So, we’re losing the first of us. I think that means we need to open another bottle.”

“Go ahead.” I do my best to let go of the joke. Jack wasn’t being serious, but I do worry about it. I want Ellie to be safe no matter what. I might be willing to straddle the line between law and crime, but I’d prefer she stay safely on one side. Sutton’s laugh rises in the room and I watch her, dark head bowed sharing a joke with Luca, and wonder if I need to worry about her, too. Nothing could convince her to go back to New York.

“Stop corrupting my kid sister,” I call to Luca.

“As if he could corrupt me,” she says with a pout.

There’s another knock, and since everyone’s in here, I brace myself for the hurricane that Poppy’s become over the last few weeks. She’s already been here five times to make sure we’re on schedule. No amount of evidence seems to prove to her that we’re self-sufficient enough to put on tuxedos and wait in a room.

I open the door, ready to reassure her, only to discover Francie there, holding Zeus’s leash. “It’s nearly time. I thought we’d better get him ready.”

“That’s our cue,” Jack says. He walks to me, extending his hand. I take it, and he pulls me into a hug. “You ready for this?”

“Because we’ve had to extract you from tighter spots before,” Luca adds, joining us. His dark eyes dance.

“No doubt in my mind,” I promise them.

Luca grins, whistling as he heads out the back door to wait for the ceremony. Jack smiles again before releasing my hand.

“I’m happy for you,” he tells me before joining Kai to go wait with Luca.

“Me, too,” Sutton adds, managing to sound sincere.

“You two will be friends someday,” I promise her, wrapping my arms around her in a tight hug. She looks so grown up in her gold, lightly beaded dress, but her round, blue eyes take me back to when she was a little kid, looking to me for guidance. I’m determined to be there for her. “I want us to be a family. I don’t want to lose any more time.”

When they’re gone, Francie comes over and fiddles with my bowtie, not bothering to hide the tears pooling in her eyes. She’s dressed in a simple navy dress that Adair and her picked out when she arrived last week. The two bonded over how little they cared about clothes, much to Poppy’s horror.

“You look beautiful,” I tell her. She does. Her warm brown skin glows as brightly as her million watt smile.

“I look old,” she says with a sniff, brushing invisible lint from my shoulders.

I shake my head. A few strands of gray have made themselves into her

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