dreaming about?”
“What? No!”
I look her over, liking her in my clothes. Liking how small she is in them. I lean down, inhale when I’m close. She smells like me. My shampoo. My soap. “Don’t worry, we’ll get to the fucking,” I whisper. When I pull back, I see her pulse thrumming in her neck, see how her face is flushed red.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“First, dinner.” I drag her through the door. Alec watches, snorts like it’s what he expected.
“I’m not eating with you. I want to see my brother and I want to go home!”
“And where exactly is home?”
At that, she falters. I decide not to waste time, so before she realizes what’s happening, I bend down to lift her and toss her over my shoulder.
She yelps when I do. Then yelps once more when I smack her ass.
“Quiet,” I tell her.
She doesn’t quiet though. She doesn’t seem like the quiet type. She struggles, hurtling curses at me as I carry her down the stairs, through the living room. I nod at the soldier standing nearby and enter the dining room where I plant her to sit.
“Does your mother know the language you use?”
“My mother doesn’t know much these days since she’s dead, asshole.”
I stop, take in her anger. I drop it because why the fuck did I even say that? Her mother is dead. Murdered like mine. Well, maybe not exactly like mine.
Lenore, who opens the dining room door, quickly disappears back through it.
“I want to see my brother,” Scarlett demands. I guess gaining a little backbone at my silence. “I’m not sitting here with you or eating with you. You killed my brothers. You’ve probably hurt Noah. You—”
I slam my hands on the arms of her chair and she jumps. I lean in close. I want to be sure I have her attention.
She leans away from me, quietly staring at me wide-eyed.
“I have not hurt your brother.”
“How do I know that? I can’t know it until I see him for myself.”
“You know because I just told you.”
She juts her chin out.
“You will sit with me and you will eat with me.” She opens her mouth to argue but I continue. “And afterward, I’ll consider letting you see your brother.” My concession. Not that I need to make one.
Her expression changes and she searches my eyes. Probably trying to gauge if I mean it or not.
“Understand?” I ask.
“What does that mean? You’ll consider it?”
“It means if you’re good, I’ll take you to him so you can see for yourself that he’s fine.”
She stops, studies me for a long minute. “Do you promise?” she asks, earnest and innocent.
I’m surprised at the question. It’s almost childish. But I nod.
She stares up at me like she’s not quite sure whether or not to believe me. But what choice does she have?
“Are we eating in peace?”
She nods. “Fine.”
I straighten and when I turn to take my seat, I hear her mutter Neanderthal under her breath. I smile. Pretend I didn’t hear it as the kitchen door opens and Cerberus enters ahead of Lenore.
6
Scarlett
“Jesus!” I’m startled at the look of the very large and very excited German Shepherd that comes through the door.
Cristiano turns to look at me with a grin on his face—asshole—which is gone the instant the giant hound sniffs me then sets his head on my lap, tail wagging like we’re old friends.
I admit, this is a scary looking dog but they’re usually the sweetest. It’s the little fuckers you have to watch for. I still remember a friend’s yappy poodle chasing me around the dining room table on my first visit to her house when I was barely five.
“Well, hi there. What’s your name, sweetie?” I ask him in a voice that makes Cristiano roll his eyes as I lean down to cuddle the dog.
Cristiano mutters something under his breath. I don’t hear what it is, but he sounds annoyed. Good.
“Cerberus. Here.” He points beside him, but Cerberus nuzzles his nose into my hair behind my ear. “Christ,” he mutters and tugs the dog away. “Sit.”
“Hey!”
The dog whines but sits, just barely, tail still wagging and eyes on me like he wants to play.
“Cerberus?” I ask Cristiano, feeling my eyebrows arch high as the food is laid out on the table. The feast includes roasted chicken, vegetables, potatoes and salad along with a basket of warm rolls.
“You know the name?” Cristiano asks looking surprised.
“I can read, you know.” Arrogant fucker.
He harrumphs.
“You named your dog the guardian dog of the