Page 5

“ W ow!”

Jade rushes toward me the second I step out of the elevator, eyes wide, hands already grabbing for me like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

I giggle, a little breathless, and sway slightly on my heels—too damn high, but I’m wearing them, anyway.

Because tonight is different. Tonight, I am different.

Of course, my nerves are a nightmare, so I popped a Pepcid before heading down with Coral.

Because acid reflux and existential crises go hand in hand, apparently.

The hotel reserved this elevator exclusively for the two penthouse floors, meaning we pretty much have private access to it.

The mystery royal guest Balor mentioned on the plane hasn’t been seen or heard from, but honestly? I don’t give a damn.

Because Sammy Ramirez takes up every available inch of space in my head.

It’s shameful, I know. He’s kinda family.

But he isn’t. Family, I mean— and that’s the important thing.

Jade twirls me around, whistling low. “You do look amazing in red.”

I should say something. Should thank her properly, should soak in the compliment like a normal person.

Instead, I’m trying not to panic.

Because I made a plan for this weekend. A simple, rational plan.

1. I am an adult. Not a child.

2. I am tired of being a virgin.

3. I am no longer going to pine away for a man who doesn’t even see me.

Great plan. Smart plan.

Except for the part where, well , he’s looking right at me.

And not just looking.

He’s seeing me.

Sammy stands across the lobby, whiskey in one hand, the other clenched into a fist at his side.

His jaw is tight, his gaze dark, and if the way his muscles strain against that perfectly tailored button-up means anything, then, I mean, holy shit.

He sees me. And I think he likes what he sees.

I bite my bottom lip and pretend to listen to Jade while seemingly not obsessing over the fact that he is staring right at me.

Me . In this barely there dress that feels like sin and possibility wrapped in silk.

And suddenly, my whole plan feels like a joke.

“Thank you. I love your outfit too,” I belatedly tell Jade, even though I don’t even know what the hell she’s wearing.

The sisters, Jade and Coral, are bubbly and buoyant, closer to my age than their older sister, Clementine.

Michaela, Clementine, and Shelly are over by the bar, married, settled, with kids, but still here to celebrate my MBA.

And I love them for it.

Because the Volkov Clan—as Shelly lovingly calls us—is a beautiful, loyal, and awesome mishmash of Vipers and Wolves.

Or at least, that’s what my dad says.

We’re all close, but not all blood.

Nico Jr. and his sister Annabella (who isn’t here because she’s still in school) are my only actual blood relatives.

The rest?

Honorary family.

Friends so close, they feel like blood.

Found family— the ones we chose.

These people? They are my tribe. My ride-or-die companions. My forever besties.

I love them all. Fiercely. Unconditionally.

But one member of this Clan?

My love for him is anything but platonic.

The truth is, I’ve been head over heels for Sammy Ramirez since I was eleven years old.

I know how it sounds.

Silly. Embarrassing. Stupid, even.

But it’s the truth.

It happened at one of our big family cookouts, back when summers felt golden and endless, and I was still naive enough to believe in fairytales.

We were all playing soccer out front—Sammy was a referee since he was too big to play fairly against us.

It was all fun and games until one of Junior’s pals, Remy, got too rough and knocked me down.

I hit the ground hard, skinning my knee. It stung like hell, and I was humiliated, blinking back tears because crying in front of the older kids was social suicide.

Then Sammy was there.

Faster than I’d ever seen anyone move, grabbing Remy by the back of his t-shirt and flinging him halfway across the yard like he weighed nothing.

I remember everyone going quiet, the tension thick, crackling in the air.

Then he turned to me, his expression shifting from fury to concern in a blink.

And before I could even protest, he picked me up and carried me inside—where he cleaned and dressed my knee himself.

Like it was the most important thing in the world.

Like I was.

And right then—that was it for me.

That was the moment my stupid, hopeful heart latched onto him and never let go.

Which, honestly, is probably why I’m still a virgin.

But I can’t keep living with this stupid crush. I need to move on. To enjoy my youth. To make memories. To live.

And that is why tonight, I am finally going to do something about my hopeless affection for this man.

I am going to forget all about it and find someone to help rid me of a certain physical barrier . And I am going to join the ranks of the many happily single successful women out there who also enjoy having an active sex life.

It’s time to put away my favorite pink vibrator and get myself something real.

Desperate, you say? Maybe.

But it’s got to be better than this.