Page 147 of Sweet Manipulation
And as we walk toward the house, the door swinging open to the warmth and chaos of the people I love, I know we’ve finally carved out a life that’s messy, loud, chaotic, and perfect.
The De Luca manor smells faintly of roasted garlic and fresh bread, warm light spilling from the chandelier over the long dining table.
Outside, the last slivers of sunset burn orange across the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. The ocean humsfaintly in the distance, a constant reminder of how far we’ve come.
I sink into my chair, watching Nikolai reach for the bread basket, his brows furrowed in mock concentration, while Enzo leans back with a faint grin as he sips his wine. Elijah is half-talking, half-laughing about some ridiculous workout mishap from earlier.
The sound of them, the ease of it all, is comforting in a way I didn’t know I needed.
The conversation starts predictably—training, workouts, repetitions, and corrections. Nikolai growls at my form, Enzo and Elijah tease him mercilessly, and I roll my eyes, secretly enjoying the familiar chaos.
Eventually, the topic shifts.
“So… how’s city life treating you?” Elijah asks, fork halfway to his mouth.
I shrug, smiling. “Pretty good. I started a yoga class, and an art class, and—” I glance at Nikolai, “—I’ve been meeting people. Making friends.”
Nikolai smirks, leaning back in his chair. “I love the girlfriend thing, malyshka.”
I laugh, nudging him with my elbow. “Yeah… you’ve been my biggest supporter, you know that?”
He pretends to roll his eyes, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrays him. “Of course. Someone has to make sure you don’t turn into a complete disaster outside my supervision.”
“I love you,” I mouth.
“YA tebya lyublyu,” he whispers.
I love you.
Enzo leans forward, his expression softening. “Speaking of support… I started the process. I’ve been working with some of Dante’s old clients—tracking everything, coordinating. I won’t stop until every woman he’s taken is back where she belongs.”
My chest tightens with gratitude and awe. “You’re serious?”
“Almost as deadly as the murder you keep bringing to our family dinners,” he says, eyes flicking to my boyfriend.
Nikolai raises his glass, a smile pressed to his food-stuffed mouth.
Elijah laughs, teaming up with Enzo to bait Nikolai into breaking his newfound ability to control his temper, while I sit back and watch—curious to see which obsessive, alpha male cracks first.
And for the first time in a long time, this house feels like home.
I havetwohomes.
I never could have imagined my life being this perfect.
