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Phoebe would have laughed, but her humor was sucked out, worried about her friends. She dialed her brother and put the phone to her ear as she headed to her BMW.

“Pick up the phone, big brother.”

The call went to voicemail after five rings. Phoebe hung up again and called back.

* * *

One hour earlier

A champagne corkpopped and bubbly shot from the top.

“Congratulations!” The crowd of friends and family around Jacob pulled him in for hugs and handshakes.

Jacob’s smile was dimly lit. “Thank you. Thank you all for your generosity and for holding this celebration in honor of the contract with the Royals of Kéra Asnela.”

Jonas slapped Jacob on his shoulder. “No thanks needed. Who else would the Royals contract with to build their home in the States?”

Jacob nodded. “There are others.”

“Now you’re just being modest,” Jaden added.

The Rose men laughed, and Jacob accepted more greetings, embraces, and compliments from his brothers.

They were in Club Sangria’s third-floor VIP room while the partygoers below celebrated to the gyrating rhythms of Jamaican dancehall artist, Shenseea.

He watched the sea of people jam to song after song behind the transparent partition that separated the guests’ area, wishing he could pull from their exhilaration.

News of Jacob’s deal with the infamous Royals spread like wildfire once King Winthrope signed on the dotted line.

His brothers appeared to be more enthusiastic on his behalf than he was himself. Though Jacob was no stranger to constructing homes for iconic figures, the Royals’ castle had an estimated fund base of slightly over two billion dollars. Thirty-five percent of that went into Jacob’s bank account for his services. It was the single biggest deal he’d ever negotiated, and that alone was more than enough reason to celebrate.

Unfortunately for Jacob, he was having a hard time commemorating the opportunity for one reason.

Bellissima.

He wanted her on his arm, at his side, rejoicing, drinking, and fucking the night away.

Every time she called, he mentally talked himself away from answering the phone just to hear her out. What excuse would be sufficient to cast doubt on what he’d witnessed?

His mood was incessantly dull regardless of what he or anyone else did to change that.

A soft feminine voice called out, “Mr. Rose.”

Blinking from his reverie, Jacob cast an eye to Bonita Fellers as she sashayed up to pause next to him.

“Congratulations, handsome.”

Her smile grew wide, her lashes batting flirtatiously.

He grinned. “Thank you.”

Bonita handed him a glass of white liquor.

“Patrón on the rocks. Like you like it.”

Jacob accepted the drink. “Thank you again.”

“Anytime. This is a monumental occasion for you. Do you have special plans tonight?”