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Alana heaves in the corner of the room, her vomit splashing against the plastic. The hem of her dress, which for the most part had remained blood-free, now also has body fluid on it. Yikes. Biohazard much?

With one hand holding back Alana’s hair, Waverly reaches her other hand into her back pocket and waves a USB stick behind her. “Proof. We’ve had it for a little while. We had a different plan. Less collateral damage. We were going to move on it next week. But The Deviant decided to steal the kids, so fuck that guy.”

Once the last of her stomach contents are splattered on the floor, Alana stands and wipes the side of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Do you want to wash your face?” Waverly asks.

“I’m not done yet.” She steps over The Deviant’s arm and heads out of the room, leaving all the destruction. “Come on,” she says to Marshall as she stands in the doorway.

Chapter

Forty-Three

Katya

The hall is filled with voices. The men from the Four Families have made their way down here. Lance leads them, clearly exhausted, and looking like every emotion is one minor inconvenience away from setting him off.

Donny follows behind, still visibly shaken. “I’m so sorry about all this,” he offers, sounding as exhausted as Lance looks. “Are you still going on your trip?” His eyes widen as he catches sight of a blood-soaked Alana and he stops dead in his tracks. “Oh shit.”

Lance turns to face Donny, completely missing Alana, and the door on the other side of the hallway opening. “Nah, I’m not much in the mood to propose.”

“Lance!” Alana screeches.

Lance whips his head toward Alana. Now his eyes widen as he takes in the carnage coating nearly every inch of her. “Fuck, are you okay?”

“It’s not my blood.” She seems more annoyed with Lance than anything else that’s happened in the last few minutes. “What the fuck, dude! We had a plan.”

The men behind him start booing and making thumbs-down gestures. I have no clue what’s happening.

Izzy stands in the now open doorway behind Lance. “You were going to propose?” Her voice cracks as she puts her hand to her lips.

Lance turns to face her, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, yeah.” He kicks the floorboards with his foot and stares at the ground. More blood drips off Alana’s chin, puddling on the tiles.

Izzy’s eyes are wide and her voice shakes, but her mouth is still protected by her hands. “Um, where’s the ring?”

“Back at the apartment.”

Her father puts his hand on Lance’s shoulder. “He asked permission a few months ago, and we all helped him pick out a ring.”

Waverly mirrors Izzy’s father’s action and says, “Alana and I made him return that ring and get you something you would actually wear, and he used the extra money to book this weekend.”

The older men throw up their arms in protest and start mumbling amongst themselves about time wasted and why do they even bother. Typical.

“Oh,” she says and drops her hands from her lips.

“But obviously things didn’t go to plan,” Alana says flatly. “So he’s going to try again. Later. When there aren’t two dead bodies behind Door A and a horde of felons behind Door B.”

Brushing past Lance, being sure not to get any fluids on his shirt, Alana motions for Marshall to follow. “Donny, you can clean up the other room. If anyone wants to see the show, come on.”

Lance steps closer to Izzy. “If I were to ask, what sort of answer would I get?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I guess it depends on the ring.”

All the romance and sweetness make me wish I could run into Dimitri’s arms and kiss him. But yeah, the bodies, crimes, and fluids really are a downer.

Alana stands in front of a door. “Wave, you worked hard to pull off this plan. Why don’t you go upstairs with Dimitri to see the kids’ surprise.” She takes a few steps, then turns back. “Oh, and Wave, you got any rooms open at your hotel for the night?”

She nods. “Yeah, a couple. The presidential suite is open, why?”