Unraveled (Dark Sovereign Book 3)

Things have been simpler since the tension between Alexius and me has been severed. I’ve moved back into his room, and he’s been there every night, making love to me and sleeping with his hand on my belly.

His touch is gentler, and so is the way he fucks me. He’s becoming increasingly cautious when it comes to my body and the babies and tries to control himself the best he can with me.

I love his softer side, but I miss the fiery, carnal explosion when our twisted desires take control. The way he dominates me, giving me the pain I crave and the humiliation I need to be consumed. But I know it’s only temporary. Once the babies are born, we’ll…unravel yet again.

Even though Alexius and I have made up, and we’re finally on the same page again, there’s still an ominous current in the air around the house, especially when the brothers are together, disappearing into the Dark Sovereign meeting room. I can’t help but feel like Alexius is hiding something from me—that they’re all hiding something from Mira and me. But for now, I’m done fighting, done digging into things that don’t directly affect the babies or me. Alexius will always have his secrets, and Dark Sovereign business will never be pillow talk for us.

Mirabella and I are wrapping presents for the local children’s home, and I try to avoid her knowing looks, but I can feel her curious gaze on me.

“Yes, Mira?” I say with a grin.

“So, you and Alexius are okay?”

“We are.” I place the lid on the box and tie the red ribbon around it. “We’re okay.”

“Good. I was a little worried if you had to run away, I would have to travel halfway around the world to see my niece and nephew…or niece. Have you thought about a name yet?” She shrugs. “For the girl, at least.”

“It’s not something we’ve had a chance to discuss yet.”

“You know what would make a beautiful name?”

I eye her with suspicion. “Let me guess. Mirabella?”

“Ew, no.” She wrinkles her nose and starts stacking a few presents on top of each other, placing them on the other table so we have more workspace. “I’ve always loved the name Aria. I think it would be the perfect name for your little girl.”

“Aria.” I say the name, wanting to hear the sound of it with my voice. “That is a beautiful name. I love it, actually. But don’t you want to keep it as an option if you have a daughter one day?”

She presses her red lips together, folding a blue boy’s t-shirt into a box. “If I have a girl, I want to name her Natalia, after my mother.”

My heart constricts. “That’s a beautiful name, Mira,” I say, noticing the light shimmer in her green eyes. I know what it feels like to lose a parent. What I don’t know is how it feels to lose a loving parent.

She brushes a finger below her eye, sweeping away a bead of moisture. “I’m not getting my hopes up, though. Who knows if I’ll ever get married.”

“Don’t be silly.” I toss a piece of torn and bundled-up wrapping paper at her. “There’s no chance a beautiful woman like yourself will grow old as a spinster.”

“Clearly, you have forgotten what a hound my brother is. At school, guys simply talked to me and they’d have a broken face the next day. The school’s star quarterback somehow gathered the nerve to ask me out. God, I was so excited, and Liam Collins was so hot. But he never showed, and I thought I was stood up.” She clears her throat. “The following day, everyone heard that Liam was in some sort of accident and broke his leg in two different places. But I knew the truth. It had my brother and the Del Rossa brothers written all over it. After that, guys didn’t even dare to breathe in my direction.”

“Whoa.” I’m shocked. “That’s…insane.”

“Right? When I came walking down the hall, guys would turn around just to avoid eye contact with me. It was like I had leprosy or something.”

I twirl a string of blue ribbon around my finger. “Considering how you lost your parents and older brother, I guess I can understand why Maximo is so protective of you. He doesn’t want to lose you too.”

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Always see the good behind everyone’s actions?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s my way of convincing myself that people aren’t just all bad, that there’s at least one pure intention behind a hundred bad ones.”

“Clearly you haven’t lived in this house long enough or had a single adult conversation with my brother.”

I snicker. “Or your brother just felt like none of those high school jocks were good enough for his little sister.”

She takes the ribbon from my hand and starts twirling it around her own finger. “Or he’s just a selfish asshole who’s trying to ruin my life by eating all my potential boyfriends alive.”

“I haven’t seen him chewing at Nicoli’s heels yet.”

“Shut up.” Mira shoots me a warning glare, and I merely smile, turning my focus back to the task at hand.

“How many presents have we wrapped already?”

Mira counts the stacks. “Thirty-one, which means we have fifty-nine more to go.”

“We’re going to need some help if we want these wrapped by tomorrow night.” I blow a strand of hair from my face. “A lot of help.”

“Let’s take a break,” she says, weaving her fingers through her hair and brushing it behind her ears. “I’ll ask some staff members to continue here while we finalize the Christmas dinner menu.”

I don’t object because I’m convinced I’ve developed an acute case of carpal tunnel by now.

We walk to the living room, where we find the chef waiting for us with some menu options. From baked brie bites, camembert wreath with crusty bread, and sweet potato soup with holly croutons as appetizers, to slow-roasted striploin in red wine and port with creamy mashed potato, maple-glazed ham, and traditional roasted Vermont turkey.

“The options are endless,” I say, reading through every menu numbered from one to eight. “I’m so grateful this decision isn’t solely mine to make.”

Mira leans her head to the side as she studies the menus. “Let’s go with two, three, and seven.”

My eyes widen. “Three? Are we going with three menus? What, do you plan on feeding a village?”

“On Christmas, the men in this house are a village.”

It’s hard for me to fathom that much food on one table. Not only didn’t we celebrate Christmas when I was a child, but I still ate my dry noodles instead of a meal prepared for a special occasion.

Nicoli and Caelian come sauntering in, both with a drink in hand, their sleeves rolled up to their elbows, and their collars loosened. “What are you two up to?” Caelian asks.

“We’re just finalizing the Christmas dinner menu,” Mira replies.

Caelian steps up behind Mira and looks over her shoulder at the menus. “Which did you choose?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Mira hands the menus back to the chef and thanks him, her gaze drifting in Nicoli’s direction, and their eyes meet for only half a second, but it’s enough to make her cheeks blush with a shy glow.

Nicoli clears his throat. “What’s on the menu tonight? I’m starving.”

“I told the chef to surprise us. Leandra and I have been busy all day with the presents for the children’s home.”

“It’s ironic, don’t you think?” Caelian falls back on the couch, spreading his arm along the back. “Our family donating Christmas gifts to charity bought with money made from,” he lifts his shoulders, “doing what we do.”

Mira stares at him, deadpan, placing her hand on her hip. “Oh, you mean the money you make by running illegal casinos and sex clubs?”

“Not running, princess.” Caelian smirks, tipping his glass at her. “Owning.”

“Good God.” Mira rolls her eyes.

“Hey, I don’t see you complaining when you buy twenty pairs of those Louis Batone boots.”

“It’s Louis Vuitton, dumbass,” she corrects him with a sneer.

“Batone, Vuitton. Same thing.”

She slants her head to the side. “Not even close.”

Alexius strolls in, and my heart flutters as I watch him walk my way.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says and gives me a peck on the cheek, then places his palm on my belly. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good.” I smile.

He tips my chin upward, studying me. “Did you rest?”

“Alexius, I’m fine.”

“Just making sure.” He kisses my jaw, making my body tingle, a spark traveling downward between my thighs.

“Seriously,” Caelian starts, “everyone’s aware that all is well again in the land of Alexius and Leandra. No need to gross us out with all this PDA. Get a room. God knows, there’s more than enough to choose from in this house.”

“Will Isaia be joining us tonight?” Nicoli asks, standing by the fireplace, the glimmer of the flames dancing off his features.

“I’m here.” Isaia walks in, and I catch myself smiling when I see him. “Please tell me we’re having good old-fashioned grilled steak tonight. I can’t stomach another fancy-ass meal.” He sits next to Caelian and takes Caelian’s drink, swallowing the last bit.

“Excuse you, you little fucker.” Caelian slaps Isaia on the back of the head, and everyone laughs.

The atmosphere is light and warm. Peaceful for a change. There are no dark clouds looming over us, no worries about spiraling tensions between anyone. It’s the first time in so long that the air isn’t gloomy and bleak.

When Mr. Del Rossa died, there was a shift in this house which everyone felt. Sadness cleaved through this family, and grief draped the walls. It was hard to breathe and not smell the sorrow.

Now, it’s like they’re a family again—like we’re a family.

I look out into the foyer at the large Christmas tree lit up by lights that cling like a thousand fireflies to the branches. I feel the magic in the air—how it warms my blood and fills my heart. For a few moments, I’m that little girl again, the one who lay awake at night wondering what that excitement felt like—the excitement of wondering what you’d find under the tree on Christmas morning, wondering if the house would smell like cinnamon and pine when you woke up.

“Where are you, stray?” Alexius leans closer, his breath caressing my ear.

“I’m…” I press my lips together, smiling as I look up at him. “I’m right where I want to be.”

He kisses me again, and his brothers cause a stir with their whining in the background. Alexius pulls away and licks his lips. “Jealous fuckers,” he tells them, and Caelian throws a scatter pillow at him.

A while back, I didn’t think the magic of Christmas could fill these halls. But it does. And so does hope. Love. Laughter.

It’s not perfect, and I doubt it’ll ever be perfect. But this might just be…home.

We’re halfway through dinner when Alexius gets a text, and judging by the scowl on his face, it’s not anything good.

My first instinct is to ask what it is, but I remind myself of my place—that when it comes to the family business, I have no place.

Alexius looks across the table at Nicoli. Anyone with half a brain can see that something passes between them, and I know I’ll be going to bed alone tonight.

Alexius places his hand over mine. “I have to—”

“I know.” I smile when he lifts my hand and presses his lips against my skin.

Maximo appears in the doorway, and there’s a storm in his eyes as he stares straight at Alexius. The ice in his demeanor slithers down my neck, chills pricking my skin.

Alexius stands, fastens his suit jacket, and excuses himself from the table, Nicoli and Caelian following suit.

“Isaia.” Alexius glances at his brother, still seated at the table, and with a simple nod, he tells Isaia to join them. To outsiders, it would be an insignificant moment. But to everyone in this room, it speaks louder than words blasting through a megaphone at three in the morning.

“My brother sure knows how to kill the mood.” Mira slips in next to me, crossing her arms. “Whenever he silently demands Alexius’ attention, it’s never good.”

“You think it’s Dark Sovereign business?”

“It has to be, or Alexius wouldn’t have his brothers join them.” She takes the last sip of her red wine and stands. “So, since our dinner just came to an abrupt end and you won’t be having sex tonight, how about we go wrap some presents?”