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“You look nice, by the way.” She stops and fixes my tie. “I like you in suits.”

“I feel like we’re playing dress up because this suit and that dress isn’t either of us.”

She glances up at me quickly. “I know. Oh God, I can’t believe you said that out loud. Did you not want to take Troi’s house?”

The question hits me in the chest. “It may seem like I had a choice, but I really didn’t. Your brother talks about history and tradition like we don’t have any. But we do. My mother’s roots are just as important.”

“But you didn’t want a wife.”

“Eventually.” I shrug. “Maybe.”

“Ouch.” Ava spins on her heels and goes inside the building.

Wait... Does she...not want the divorce?

Here I am, acting like an asshole, giving her the answers Ithinkshe wants. Has something changed?

I try to hold her hand as we walk into the building’s lobby, but she keeps doing something else with them. We have to look like we’re in love. We have to make people think it’s real and it will last forever. Like we were set up on a blind date, hit it off, and can’t keep our hands off each other.

Instead, we’re sleeping in the same bed with empty sheets between us occupied by a hideous clown. God, I have to get rid of that thing.

Ares opens the door to Aunt Helena’s apartment wearing a pair of charcoal trousers and a blue dress shirt, but no tie. He looks rather casual for an engagement party, but it’s not a race to the bottom. Plus, Ava likes me in a three-piece suit.

“Griffin.” Ares shakes my hand.

Before I can respond,girly shrieks ring out, and I want to kill myself. Ava spins around and is tackled by two young women who came from the living room.

They whisper while I unbutton my suit jacket, taking in the lay of this apartment.

“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lucia,” Ava says, her voice finding my ear.

One of the twins marches up to me. “We want to take Ava out tonight after the party. She’s getting married. There’s no shower, no cake tasting, no bachelorette party. She deserves one night out, you meanie.”

Ares cackles from a few feet away. “Lucia, you just called the head of the Irish Mob, a meanie.”

I see red. It’s not safe for these silly girls to have that kind of information. But they drag Ava away and huddle in the corner like they’re plotting my death.

Swirling his drink in a rocks glass, Ares passes me and whispers into my ear, “Touch a hair on their head, and I will murder you, Emperor Quinlan.”

“Nice,” I murmur.

The door behind me opens again and my throat tightens seeing my mother on Shane’s arm. Da wasn’t feeling up to this party, but Ma promised he’d make it to the wedding.

Ma looks radiant in a jeweled dark green dress. Her hair is swept up in an elegant twist with a black rhinestone-encrusted comb. The last time she wore that much makeup was...

Behind them are Sabine and her husband Grayson Hart.

Theirwedding.

“Oh my God!” Lola or Lucia screeches. I can’t tell these twins apart. “It’sGrayson Hart!”

“Ugh, here we go.” I step aside and let them crash into the actor.

They’re not related to me, and he’s six-five. He can handle it.

“Whoa, hey. Hi,” Grayson says, holding out his hands. “One at a time.”

Sabine relinquishes her husband to his fans and saunters toward me, smirking. At six feet tall herself, her pregnancy barely registers even though she’s late in her term.