Page 77 of Sweetest Sin

“It’s official,” I say, my hands sweeping down my body. “I’m a mom with a mom bod and mom clothes.”

Brielle stares at me for several seconds and then bursts out laughing. “Oh my God. Stop it. If that”—she nods toward my body—“is a mom bod, then sign me up. Because you have curves for days and your rack looks like you bought it.”

“I invest in very good bras.”

She laughs again and then saunters over to my closet, where I’ve been hanging up my clothes as I unbox. “Oh, what about this? This is sexy and simple. Perfect for a night out at the club.”

She’s referring to the little black dress that I haven’t worn since my night with Dominick. Soon after, I found out I was pregnant, and then after Damien was born, when I went ondates, I couldn’t bring myself to wear it. It holds too many memories. When we went to bed that night, I thought it was the start of something more, only to learn the next morning that it was the end.

“Yeah, I could wear that,” I tell her, snatching it off the hanger with a bit too much force.

She eyes me curiously, but doesn’t comment.

After I’m dressed, I check on Damien and then thank Martha for keeping an eye on him.

“Should I leave a note for Dominick?” I ask as we walk out to the garage.

When my stuff was delivered, so was my phone, but I don’t know Dominick’s number, and since he’s been home a lot, I haven’t needed it.

Brielle grins. “No. The one thing you need to know about my brothers is that they always know where everyone is.”

The garage houses several sleek vehicles, ranging from sports cars to SUVs. And I make a mental note to ask Dominick about my car. It doesn’t belong in this garage, but I’ll need something to drive around when the threat is gone.

“Wait,” I say, stopping. “What about the guard?”

“I’m right here, Miss Wright,” Daniil says, stepping out of a side door. He’s dressed like he always is—in an all-black suit, complete with a matching skinny tie. “I’ll be driving you tonight.”

“Or … and just hear me out,” Brielle says, batting her lashes, “you could follow us so I could drive Betty.” She pats her hand on the red Porsche. “It’s been years since I drove her, and she misses me.”

“Sorry, Miss Antonova?—”

“Brielle,” she barks. “I hate that last name as much as I hate this city.”

Daniil nods. “You know the rules, Brielle. If you want to leave, I need to drive you.”

She huffs but gives in, walking over to the black sedan next to her sports car. “Fine, let’s go.”

She takes the back seat, and I’m not sure if I should get in the front or the back, until another guy walks out, dressed the same as Daniil.

“Hello, Miss Wright—correct?” Unlike Daniil’s blond hair, hazel eyes, and boyish looks, this guy looks downright menacing. His head is shaved, and peeking out of his collar looks to be several tattoos. One of which looks like a snake running up his neck.

“Yes,” I choke out.

“My name is Denis,” he says. “I’ll be joining you tonight.”

“Okay, thanks,” I tell him.

He opens the back door for me, and I slide in next to a pouting Brielle.

“Told you they know everything,” she mutters.

“What do you mean?”

“Denis is one of Dominick’s best men. If I were going alone, Daniil would’ve been fine. But the fact that Denis is here means Dominick knows you’re leaving and isn’t taking any chances. I’ve seen that man kill five guys in less than ten seconds.”

When my eyes dart between her and Denis, she laughs. “Welcome to the family.”

Kings Point is exactlythe kind of place I imagined Brielle frequenting. The walls are a deep crimson with red lights running from corner to corner. Black-and-gold velvet couches and chairs are placed around the perimeter, and even thoughthey’re out in the open, each area looks cozy. In the middle is a sleek marble dance floor, which is filled with people gyrating and grinding all over each other to a smooth beat.