I turn toward the window. Milan below, elegant and indifferent. Traffic. Sun on pale stone. Men moving through their days toward places they'd rather not be.
Somewhere in another city is a woman who thinks three alphas wanted her for a single night and paid to make sure it didn't become anything more.
My hands curl at my sides.
I want her mouth. I've wanted it every morning for three months, the exact softness of it, the way she'd made that small helpless sound when I'd finally gotten my hands into her hair. I want her against me again, warm and real and smelling like roses. I want to kneel in front of her and spend an hour undoing every miserable thing someone else did to her.
"I wake up thinking about her mouth," I say to the glass. "I hear her laugh when Santos said something stupid."
"Frequently," Santos mutters.
"I remember how she looked at Matteo when he said something kind to her. Like she hadn't been spoken to gently in years."
I turn back.
Matteo's face has gone very still, which is how I know he feels everything.
Good.
Santos drags a hand over his jaw.
"I miss her too." He says it like the feeling offended him personally, which is very Santos. "I miss watching her eat."
Almost gets a smile out of me.
Matteo looks between us. For once he has no prepared answer, no clean strategy, just a man who made the wrong move and knows it.
"I thought I was protecting what we built," he says.
"You were protecting yourself," I reply.
He accepts that. You can see it in the way his shoulders lower half an inch before he pulls himself back together.
Then he straightens. Decision made. I know that look.
"We leave for the island Friday."
"We find Jennifer first to fucking apologize for what you did," I say.
His eyes meet mine.
"And if she refuses. It has been months since we saw her."
Yet, it feels like only yesterday.
"Then we earn a different answer."
Santos grins slow and a little dangerous.
"And if there's some idiot boyfriend. Maybe she went back to him."
My scent spikes again before I can stop it.
"We'll assess the idiot," I say.
Santos barks a laugh.
"There he is."