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Markos’s gaze was guarded, but his full focus was pinned on me.

I faltered for words. Was I not allowed in here? Was the instrument off limits? I shouldn’t have touched it, but the desire to play compelled me to the point where I needed to play more than I needed to breathe.

“Markos!” The man appeared behind Markos. “I said, let’s fucking go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” he growled.

“Atlas says otherwise.” There was a cold glint in the stranger’s eyes. He wasn’t looking at me the way a man looked at a woman. No, there was something cruel and calculating in his gaze. It was exactly how my brother looked at everyone except his wife.

With another rumble of anger, Markos moved away. Not wanting to be left alone with the stranger—or with any other Greek mobster—I scurried after the monster I knew. In the great hall, I stopped short. They were all there. The Twelve. Terrible and beautiful in a lethal combination. Their power and strength vibrated through the room in a way that made my skin itch, and my muscles begged me to run.

“I’m taking my wife home,” Markos stated.

I stopped beside him, not wanting to seem cowardly by hiding alongside his massive frame but also wanting the small comfort of a familiar face.

Wait, why are there only eleven?I counted again just to be sure. They were missing one. I recognized a few faces, but it wasn’t until I looked at Iosif that it clicked. Oh, shit—his brother was one of them. My heart ached slightly. It wasn’t all for the man in a Minecraft tee.

I gave myself a small shake. My brothers knew I was safe. What they chose to do with that information was on them. Florida was my home now.

Distracted by the math and subsequent emotions, I missed part of their conversation.

“The fuck you will!” Markos snapped. “No one goes near her.”

“Then have one of the girls take her home,” the largest man in the group said, clearly annoyed at Markos’s obstinacy. I blinked. It was the same man whose office we’d broken into.

“We’re not here to do your errands,” one of the ladies scoffed. Iris—this one I remembered from the picnic in the village.

“Why the fuck do I have to go out fishing?” Markos countered. “I didn’t volunteer.”

“Because,” the large man grumbled. “You chose to wearthatto the meeting.”

A quick glance showed how out of place Markos looked in his hoodie.

“There’s no dress code,” he shot back.

“No, and there’s no reason for you to sneak around the zoo. But here we are.” The large man crossed his arms over his chest.

Markos stilled. “How did you know?”

“Alexios called.”

The cracks and pops of Markos’s neck sounded like firecrackers on the Fourth. Sensing the impending explosion, I placed my hand gently over his. “You can call me a cab.”

“Out of the question,” he barked.

I winced, but before I could pull away, those strong, deadly fingers wrapped around mine.

“You know what, I will take your bride home,” the large man said, sweeping his hand through the air. “You and Zephyr go take care of the traitor, and you’ll be back before dawn.”

The finality in his tone should have been the last word on the subject. But I could feel the arguments tumbling in Markos’s mind. Hoping the giant of a businessman had forgiven me for the incident with the apple, I proposed a solution.

“Sure, let’s go,” I said quickly. “I’m Serena, by the way.”

“Oh, we know who you are,” the man snorted. “I’m Atlas, and we’re going to have a nice little chat.”

Merda. I doubt he’s the forgiving type.Gulping, I hurried forward—

Only to be tugged back against the solid mass of warmth.