I close the chat and flip my phone face down on my lap. Just as I do, we come to a stop on Central Park South, right across the street from Central Park. Kratos steps out, and I blink in surprise when he hands his keys to a man in dark suit who looks somewhere between a mafioso and a valet. I step out of the car onto the sidewalk and look up at the forty-story building towering over us.
“Uh, where are we?”
Kratos smirks. “Home.”
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I’ve known luxury for most of my life. Well, from the little I remember, we lived modestly but comfortably with our birth parents. But after Vito took Dante, Claudia, and me in, it went up about a hundred notches: enormous brownstone townhouse, nice cars, not wanting for anything. That’s the mafia world.
But this?
My mouth falls open as I step out of the elevator and stare up at the gilded splendor of the Drakos estate.
I mean, it’s a freaking palace.
Marble floors, gold chandeliers, framed classical art on the walls. I’m so stunned that I barely notice when Kratos takes my hand and leads me through the sprawling mansion. My eyes bulge as I stare out through a wall of elegant French doors that lead out to a huge, manicured patio and garden. Beyond it, the grounds—and yes, I’m calling those grounds, which is insane given that we’re on top of a forty-story building—stretch out, complete with white Grecian statues, rose gardens, a fountain, what looks like a tennis court, and—holy shit—two pools.
“It…leaves an impression,” Kratos rumbles next to me.
I twist my head, craning my neck to look up at him. “This place is huge. Do you all live here?”
He shakes his head. “Not anymore. Ares and Neve are over on the West Side. Hades and Elsa are in Brooklyn Heights. Deimos and Dahlia keep a place on the Upper West Side, but they’re mostly at their estate out in Connecticut. And Callie lives with Castle at the Kildare home on the Upper East Side.”
My brow creases at a thought I actually hadn’t considered yet: my new living situation.
“When we…you know,” I mumble. “Will I—”
“I don’t live here anymore either,” Kratos says. “You’ll be moving into my brownstone in the East Village.”
There’s something about the decisive way he states it, like this isn’t up for discussion at all, that both flusters me and turns me on a little.
Dear world: send professional help. Pretty sure I need it.
Kratos takes my hand again, which isn’t necessary—it’s not like I’m a child and we’re crossing a busy street. At the same time, it feels weirdly normal. As if my small hand was meant to fit into his gargantuan one.
“Is that, like, set in stone?”
He looks at me, half-amused, out of the corner of his eyes. “Us moving in together once we’re married? Yes.”
“I already have my own apartment, though.”
“That’s wonderful. Married people live together.”
“Well, yeah, but this isn’t a real—”
One second, I’m walking through the nicest, most elegant home I’ve ever seen. The next, the gorgeous, dark giant next to me is whirling, pinning me against the wall, grabbing my whole jaw in one hand, and crushing his mouth to mine.
I melt.
My skin ignites like there’s liquid fire rippling across the surface. My core clenches, my legs trembling as his tongue teases over my lips and then breaks through my defenses. My body goes numb and weightless as he kisses me slowly, deeply, and possessively.
He starts to pull back when suddenly I jolt, a muffled squeal catching in my throat as I feel his teeth nip sharply at my bottom lip. I shudder and taste warm copper. At the same time, Kratos growls low, sucking on my bottom lip.
On the bite he’s just given me.
Tasting my blood, and my whimper.
Why the hell is that so fucking hot?
When he finally pulls away, I’m in a state of shock, my eyes wide as I stare up at him. My core ripples, and my thighs are clenching together tightly.
“Hmph,” he grunts. “Tastes real to me.”
No words. Before I can even attempt to find any, Kratos turns and knocks on the closed double doors we’ve arrived at.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he growls quietly, turning to me. “Later tonight, you’re meeting me at the church.”
I know what that means. Every fiery inch of my body knows what that means. But I ask anyway.
“Why is that?”
Something lethal and exhilarating flickers behind his piercing blue eyes.
“Because I have no intention of fucking a virgin on my wedding night.”
Holy fuck.
