“I’ll hold you to that.”
The casualness is jarring.
Hugo lives in the little stuff, the mundane moments.
It almost makes the screaming man from last night seem like a false memory.
After we finish, he gathers our empty bowls and carries them to the sink, then nudges the faucet on with the back of his hand. Dishes clean and racked, he returns to the bar, fills two mugs, and aligns the handles just so before he slides one across to me.
For a while we drink our coffee in comfortable quiet. Steam curls off my mug. Gray light pools across the marble. Hugo triesto meet my eyes but fails, and something about that puts me on alert.
“We’ve been summoned to the penthouse,” he says.
The mug stalls at my lips.
Summoned.
The last time that word found me at a breakfast table, Oliver was dabbing yogurt from the corner of my mouth. An hour later, I stood in the dungeon.
No, this is different.
Hugo didn’t say the dungeon.
“When?” I set the mug down before my hand betrays me.
“As soon as you’re ready to go.”
It’s all I can do to keep from scoffing. “Do you know why?”
“I imagine it has something to do with the auction.”
Allies in a penthouse, not wolves in a dungeon.
I finish my coffee while Hugo wipes down a counter that doesn’t need it, and the easy spell of the morning thins by the second.
“I’ll go get ready.” I slide off the stool.
“Take your time.”
Nervous energy buzzes through my veins as I head back to my suite. The strong coffee would be easy to blame, but this is more than over-caffeinated jitters. A private meeting with the men who know me best waits at the top of the tower, with no large dinner or polite small talk to hide behind.
Out of all of them, Liam and I share the deepest bond, and it’s a miracle he didn’t catch on yesterday in the library. Landon and I aren’t close, but he still shares my DNA. Vance, I count as a friend. And then there’s Ford…
Pain pricks at my eyes. The last time I saw him, he was just as much a mess as I was…right before I tried to jump off a cliff.
Unbreakable connections, every one of them—and I’m about to walk into a room to talk secret plans while keeping the biggest secret of all.
In the wardrobe, I reach for a blue dress suitable for winter, a modest cut buttoned high to the throat with a hem that swishes around my ankles. My style has always leaned feminine, but today, I use those buttons as armor.
Squaring my shoulders, I leave my quarters and find Hugo in the sitting room. The sight of him brings me up short, because he looks nothing like the man I shared sugary cereal with for breakfast. The flannel and glasses are gone, his messy hair combed into order, lounging clothes traded for a severe suit the color of midnight.
“Ready to go?” he asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“As ready as I can be.”
We ride up to the penthouse in companionable silence, something I wouldn’t have thought possible before his nightmare or our shared breakfast. For some reason, his presence calms me.
Once we reach Liam’s double-doored entrance, Hugo raps his knuckles three times on the heavy wood. A full minute passes with no answer.