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Alana seems unimpressed by the formality. “Yes, Macie?”

Macie’s demeanor makes you believe she could destroy an army. “The room is ready, the Hunters have arrived, and our extra guests are waiting in a secure location.” She steps further inside, holding a tablet. “Ian has a dentist appointment in an hour. I scheduled it so he could still get the surprise. But only if he feels comfortable.”

Alana nods. “Please bring the kids and their fathers upstairs.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Only the fathers?”

“Well, for the most part, their moms will be working.” Alana shrugs. “Besides, dads should be safe, the ones you run to when you’re scared. What happens in the next—” she checks her watch “—twenty-one minutes is a job for the cool aunt, and maybe an uncle or two.”

She closes the door behind her, leaving us alone.

There’s so much I want to say, but the words are stuck. “I’m so proud of you. And I am so sorry this happened.” I pull Ian into a hug, and he doesn’t feel as small as he once did.

Did I miss it? Did I blink and suddenly he grew up? No, it’s happening too fast.

“I’m sorry we didn’t talk earlier,” I whisper. “I was worried you’d be disappointed.”

“I thought you didn’t want to tell me because you were embarrassed by me,” my son whispers back.

I tighten my hold. “Never. I am constantly amazed and proud of you, and I’ve loved you since the day you were born.”

“You’re pretty cool yourself.” He lifts his head off my shoulder, “Are you a cowboy?”

I laugh. “No.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” His head returns to my shoulder. “Can you be my dad later?”

“Why?”

His voice darkens. “The Nightmare Man is the one who knocked my tooth out. I need a cool uncle.”

Mikhail. That fucking traitor is here.

Chapter

Forty-One

Katya

The entire car ride to Mastodon headquarters, I’m a nervous wreck. Between the abduction, the explosion, half the world’s supply of Majesty disappearing in seconds, and Dimitri—being so close to him and not being able to be with him—it’s too much.

And yet, my mind keeps circling a knotted puzzle. The answer is there, but something keeps it just out of reach.

It’s only Marshal, Declan, and me in the car. A palpable tension hangs in the air along with the smell of cologne. Declan stares forward, his eyes unfocused as he watches the road from the front passenger seat. Of course I’m in the back.

Marshall keeps barking orders until I snap, “This isn’t your show anymore. It’s Alana’s.” He stops talking and grumbles. I’m right. When we walk into Mastodon’s lobby, Alana is commanding the room, perched at the center of it all.

And, yeah, her dress is super cute—a ruffled top, corset back, and flowy skirt. I know because I’ve seen it constantly in ads. I’ve just never pushed the buy button. Of course, mine probably wouldn’t come with bloodstains. At least, I hope not.

Donny is a mess, curled up in a ball against the wall. Isn’t he the Mob boss’s son? Shouldn’t this be a typical Saturday afternoon for him?

Dimitri and the rest of the men aren’t in the lobby long before they disappear into the back to find the kids, leaving the moms, sisters, agents, Alana, and Donny in the space.

Marshall strides to the desk with Declan close behind. “You must be Alana King.”

He extends a hand, but Alana just glares at it until he awkwardly pulls it back.

“Um, thank you for your help, but we’ll take it from here.”