“Okay,” Wes said, and Valentin loved that he didn’t push. He wondered if Assa or Wes had heard him saymy betas. Since they hadn’t mentioned it, he assumed not. That was for the best. He didn’t mind sitting with the knowledge on his own for a bit.
“Do you think we’ll still make our dinner reservation?” Assa asked, chuckling.
“I postponed my invitation to Wes’s ass in order to make it, so we’d better,” Valentin teased.
As they dressed, they drank the Prosecco Valentin had chilled earlier and demolished the crudité. By the time they piled into Valentin’s car to head to the restaurant, content in the way only shared orgasms could achieve, Valentin knew he wanted a future with these men.
And that meant disclosing his secrets.
All of them.
***
“He refuses to accept the termsof his father’s will?” Assa asked, twirling Pad Thai on his fork. “After more than a year?”
“Pretty much. And sometimes I don’t blame him. I mean, he knew his dad for all thirty-five years of his life. Then I came along and became Ang’s favorite person. I get why he’s bitter. I’m not sure I’d give up either.”
“But, according to decree, he has no standing, right?” Wes pressed. “The will is solid?”
Valentin nodded. “Yes. But Bergam’s not exactly one to follow decrees. He thinks harassing me will get me to turn The Cracked Heart over to him.” Biting his lip, he added, “Part of the reason I pushed you away at first is because I have this situation hanging over my head. I would die before I allowed Bergam to hurt you, but I worry about putting you in the crosshairs.”
“Thank you for telling us, but I think we’re okay. He doesn’t seem like the brightest bulb,” Wes said.
“No,” Valentin conceded. “He’s a low-level criminal with grand aspirations, but without the brains to get there.”
“Although trying to frame you for selling drugs and having his guys beat the crap out of you sounds a bit more serious than harassment,” Assa said.
Valentin noted his underlying outrage. Xan worried about him, as did his staff, but he could tell it was more personal to the couple. He’d spent the past half hour explaining how he’d met Ang, and how the old alpha had given him ownership of the club after discovering Bergam only wanted the business to funnel dirty money.
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t call the police,” Wes said.
“I have good reasons to distrust the law.” Valentin linked his fingers and stretched his wrists under the table. “The truth is, before I came to Bellwether two years ago, I was in prison. In Warburton.”
Assa’s eyes widened. “Prison?”
But Wes seemed less surprised. “I wondered if it was something like that,” he said. “You’ve been so closed off about your life there.”
“Is it alright if I ask why you served time?” Assa put one hand on top of Valentin’s and the other on Wes’s. “We know the man you are now. It won’t change how much we like you.”
“That’s why I brought it up. I’m not ashamed,” Valentin said. “And you deserve to know.”
He was about to begin his story when he noticed a beta at the next table staring at Assa’s hands. Although there were plenty of benign reasons one man might touch two other men, Valentin’s intimacy with the Pashuks had been on full display all evening.
He’d rested his palms on the smalls of their backs as they’d come into the restaurant. Assa had shared his dumplings, teasing Valentin and Wes as he pulled his fork away. Their familiarity was clear in their body movements, especially the way they leaned into one another. It was obvious to anyone paying attention that this was a date.
The beta sniffed and turned back to his dinner partner. Valentin saw Wes and Assa catch the man’s judgmental glare, but they seemed to have no ill feelings about it. On the contrary, Wes looked toward the haughty beta and then at Assa, winking before he turned his hand over so they could lace their fingers.
Valentin also did not care. His being with two men was no one’s business but their own. He rotated his palm, scratching his fingers across the inside of Assa’s wrist and waggling hiseyebrows. If the beta at the next table, or really anyone in the restaurant, had a problem with it—fuck them.
He returned to explaining his history. There was so much to unpack, not just with the Parkensons and his time in prison, but also Zeller, and even now, having Asher back in his life.
“The most important thing you need to know about me going to prison is that I got thrown in jail for a crime I didn’t commit… I realize everyone says that, but in my case it’s true. The short version is that I had been employed at a large estate and I did something the owners did not like. But instead of letting it play out rationally, they used their influence to have me locked up. They made up a story about me stealing and I didn’t have the means to defend myself.”
“What did you do to upset them?” Assa asked breathily.
“I fell in love with their son.”
“Oh.” Assa lifted a hand to loosen his collar. “That is—”