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I scrubbed a hand down my face. It was time to pull myself together.

I approached the house as Laya and Cali drove up the steep driveway in one of my sports cars.

Correction, one ofourcars.

The windows were down, and Laya was behind the wheel of the Roma Spider.

They’d just gotten back from scouting wedding venues.

I smirked, recalling my discussion with Laya about our wedding plans. She had admitted she initially wanted to elope but knew her sisters would never forgive her for skipping a proper wedding.

If she’d mentioned it earlier, we could’ve skipped the circus and spared me a week of walking with a constant erection.

When I rounded the corner of the house, I anticipated seeing Laya’s convertible; however, I found two other cars next to hers.

My jaw clenched. “Fucking hell.”

Why were Markos and Stefano here? They still saw my instructions as mere suggestions. I hurried into the house, concerned about what I might find. If they’d said one harsh thing to Laya or Cali, I’d make sure they regretted it.

As soon as I entered, I realized my worst fears had come true. I rushed down the hallway toward the living room.

I could distinctly hear Laya’s rising anger cutting through the murmurs of Stefano and Markos as they unsuccessfully tried to calm her. I paused in the shadows just before the corner, straining to catch every nuance of the intense argument.

“Am I supposed to care what the two of you idiots think?” Laya snapped. “I’m not marrying either of you. What the hell do your opinions have to do with it?”

On the defensive, Stefano muttered, “Laya, come on—this isn’t the time for theatrics.”

But Laya shot him a fierce look. “Theatrics? Please, Stefano, tell me that’s the best you can do? I didn’t tie the knot with a pair of buffoons!” she thundered.

Well, well, well, my fiancée certainly had a temper.

Arousal surged through me, and my cock grew thick and hard like a lead pipe in my pants, desire and admiration blending into a heady mix.

Damn, that fiery, unyielding side of hers was hot as fuck.

Pushing that thought aside, I focused on my idiot brothers. The urge to step in needled me, but she was clearly handling them.

I’d wait and see how it played out.

“Yes, you should consider our perspective,” Stefano insisted. “We share the Galanis name. It doesn’t belong solely to Nikolas, despite his beliefs.”

“From what I understand, neither of you has a legal claim to this estate. Am I correct?”

A heavy silence fell between them until Laya resumed, unleashing brutal sarcasm. “Honestly, I’ve heard you two are nothing but insignificant losers who couldn’t tell Assyrtiko from Agiorgitiko.”

I almost laughed aloud at her cutting wit, but restrained myself, enthralled by how she effortlessly took down the jerks.

“How dare you speak to us with such disrespect!” Markos shouted, his face flushed with anger.

With a light chuckle, Laya replied, “In my culture, respect is not something you can demand. It’s something you must earn.”

“You and your whole family are nothing but failures,” Stefano said, full of malice, igniting a desire to strangle him. “You’ve squandered all the power your father amassed.”

“Maybe we did, but in the end, we proved we were our father’s daughters,” Laya said, calm and even, yet laced with pure hatred. “We returned, reclaimed what was rightfully ours, and even expanded our territory.”

“Good luck holding onto that,” Stefano retorted, but his crossed arms and tight jaw betrayed his doubt.

I cautiously edged closer, curious about how my fiancée navigated the tension.