Page 226 of Blackwood

He’s wearing an emerald blazer over black mesh, six necklaces, and the expression of a man who’s holding the world together with willpower and setting spray.

“Final rundown. Ellie, you areVenus.Glow like a whore in candlelight and make every man here want to cry into his wine. You’ve got the blush satin with the chainmail hips and the sheer train that flutters like sin. Got it?”

“Already crying, darling,” Ellie says while applying mascara. “I look like sex and regret.”

“Good. Haley, you’reDiana, huntress of my dreams and destroyer of frat boys. Looking beautiful in emerald silk with the twin leg slits and the fake bow that could still take out a man’s ego from twenty feet away.”

“Perfect. I love shredding men’s egos,” Haley grins, adjusting the strap of her dress.

“Let’s see,” Rico says, ticking off fingers like a general reviewing his troops. “Callum and The Order will be stationed atthe bottom of the stairs as your Roman guards. Lex isMars, God of war.”

“Obviously,” Ellie laughs, tossing her curls.

“And Cade…Apollo. God of the sun, art, music, and swoon-worthy jawlines. I already checked in on your boys and baby girl, damn. If they had a thing for Barcelonans, you’d be in some serious trouble.”

He fans himself dramatically, then winks. “Luckily for you, they’re fully booked and aggressively loyal.”

Rico’s voice softens. “And you, my beautiful little rage monster, areNemesis.Vengeance. Balance. Divine retribution in thigh-high stilettos.”

He walks toward me slowly, almost reverently, and adjusts the gold chain belt hanging low across my hips. His fingers are gentle, surprisingly so. “Black and crimson. Gold blade charms. Cape that flows when you turn. You look like a weapon. Because you are, darling.”

I arch a brow. “You gonna cry, Rico?”

“Bitch, I might.” He flicks my hip. “You look like justice.”

“She looks like she’s about to eat Lex alive,” Ellie calls from across the room.

“She always does,” Haley mutters, not even looking up.

Rico claps like he’s summoning a storm. “Alright, divas—¡ojos aquí!” he calls, snapping his fingers.

“Haley enters first, then Ellie. Bella, you come down last, obviously, like the goddess you are. Roman will escort you. Knox has the spotlight cues locked and loaded. And when you hit that floor?” He grins, wicked and proud. “The room will stop breathing. So do us all a favor and don’t eat shit in heels.”

Rico takes a swig from his flute and struts toward the door. “Ten minutes, goddesses. This world isn’t ready.” He slams it behind him.

For a second, it’s quiet. Just the low hum of music from the club floor below, muffled by velvet and walls. Ellie hums something under her breath. Haley exhales and starts curling her lashes.

And then the door opens again, softly as Roman steps inside. He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t need to. His presence fills the room like smoke.

He’s dressed in black and gold, a custom-tailored suit with a single drape over one shoulder that glints like woven sunlight. A golden cuff wraps around his left wrist. A laurel crown rests lightly in his dark hair. He looks like power made flesh.

He’s Jupiter tonight. The King of the Roman gods. Rico’s idea, although it totally fits him.

“You look just like your mother,” he says quietly. “Absolutely stunning.”

I swallow once. “You clean up nice.”

There’s a beat of silence. Not awkward, not really. Not anymore.

I glance at him. “Thanks for the venue. And Fight Night. And for saving my life. And for not, you know… pushing this whole father-daughter thing.” I hesitate. “You’ve been cool about it and I know that can’t be easy for you.”

“Isabella, I don’t want to be another man trying to claim you. You’ve had enough of those.”

He tilts his head slightly, something flickering behind his eyes. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here. Until then, I’ll settle for standing beside you and reminding the world whose blood made you.”

He takes a deep breath and almost smiles. “I used to dream of this, you know. Walking you down those stairs. Letting the world see who you are.”

I hold his gaze. Steel to steel. “And who am I?”