Page 37 of Devil's Iris

I glance at Rafael. “That I’m done being at his beck and call. Either tell me what he knows about Katie tomorrow, or he can forget about any of us joining his campaign team—and I walk away.”

He nods approvingly. “About time. I’m sick of his manipulation.”

Sensing that the meeting is coming to an end, I drop my bombshell. “Just so you know, I’m getting engaged tonight. Don’t be shocked if you see it in the papers tomorrow.”

Three voices explode simultaneously:

“What?” Rafael.

“No fucking way.” Michael.

“Ha, that’s not funny, Rome.” Maximo.

“Have I ever joked about something like this?” I meet each of their stares. “It’s happening.” Then I hang up before any of them can press me, chuckling as my phone immediately starts ringing.

Let them stew in their curiosity a little longer. It’s no less than they deserve.

14

LENI

Dean drives me home, where a big van from the moving company is already waiting in our front yard. I fired off a text to Mom after breakfast to let her know to expect them because my fiancé was relocating her and Ethan. That earned me a barrage of questions. Not one asking if I’m okay or why I didn’t come home last night. No, my mom’s priorities are crystal fucking clear, and my wellbeing isn’t on the list.

“I’ll be waiting out here for you,” Dean says as I climb out of the car. I nod, steeling myself.

The plan seems simple enough—go inside, pack my meager belongings, and take them back to Romero’s place while the moving van transports Ethan and Mom and their stuff to their new house in Flatbush.

Inside, it’s bustling with activity. Three professional movers are moving about, boxing up the few things we own while Mom hovers nearby, watching them like a hawk. All four heads turn to me when I walk in. And as if they know me, the three movers incline their heads in greeting.

Mom peels away from her surveillance mission and heads towards me, and I’m not sure what I expect from her. For once,her eyes aren’t bloodshot and her blonde hair actually looks relatively clean, the strands hanging limp but washed over her shoulders.

“Come on.” Her gray eyes sparkle with something I can’t name as she links her arm with mine and steers me towards my bedroom.

I fish my keys out of my purse and unlock the door—only to find Ethan lounging on my bed, tapping away on his phone. He doesn’t even look up as Mom and I walk in.

“How the hell did you get in here?” I snap, slamming the door behind me. The door I just unlocked. The door that should have been secure.

“Broke in through the window.” He shrugs, pointing towards the window I’m sure I closed before leaving last night. “No big deal.”

“Get the fuck off my bed. Get out of here.” I wave my hands at him, but he remains planted like a stubborn weed. Mom fidgets behind me, her nervous energy radiating through the small space. “Ethan. Now.”

“Chill, Leni. I just have some questions.” He groans, finally dropping his phone to look at me properly. “This might be my only shot to get answers before you disappear into your new life.”

Heat flashes through my chest. “Great. So you both have questions for me.” I’m going to take a wild guess that this is probably about the fact that I didn’t sleep here last night. I throw an impatient hand in the air. “Let’s have it.”

“Is the new boyfriend that fancy lawyer from the police station? The one with the Maybach?”

“A Maybach!”

I glance back at Mom’s breathy exclamation, and I swear I can see the dollar signs flashing in her eyes. “Ethan,” I warn.

“What are you talking about, son? What Maybach? What police station?” Mom’s voice rises with each question, butEthan clamps up, now realizing he might get in trouble if he lets it slip that he was arrested and got me arrested as well.

“We’ll continue this later,” he grumbles, rolling off my bed and heading for the window. That boy has absolutely no shame. I shake my head as he clambers out, leaving me alone with Mom and her hungry stare.

“Tell me everything about this new man. Is that where you spent the night?” Her hands start their familiar tremor, and she clasps them together to hide it from me. She probably hasn’t used yet today because of the movers and the disruption of moving to a new place.

A pang of pity squeezes my heart. “It must have been hard on you.”