Page 169 of Arrow

“Love is for people who expect to stay alive,” Arrow replied, reaching over to steal a string of potato from my plate, dipping it in the yolk spill, and eating it in a single, decisive chomp.

I couldn’t help but smile at that. “Survival is the only real love language in this city.”

Atlas raised his glass in agreement. “To staying alive.”

“And thriving,” Luna added, her hand resting protectively over her belly.

“The rehearsal dinner tomorrow will be interesting,” Arrow said, his thumb tracing circles on my thigh under the table. “First time both families have been in the same room since the engagement announcement.”

“Which ended with three broken noses and my father threatening to disembowel your uncle,” I added dryly.

Luna winced. “Family gatherings are always so heartwarming.”

“Speaking of family,” Atlas said. “Is your father coming to the rehearsal dinner?”

Arrow tensed beside me. Giovanni Virelli was a sensitive subject, especially with the wedding so close.

“Of course,” I replied, keeping my voice light. “He wouldn’t miss the chance to intimidate all the Romanovs in one room.”

Luna’s eyes widened slightly. “Will there be metal detectors?”

“And pat-downs,” Arrow added dryly. “Facial recognition at the door. The works.”

Atlas nodded approvingly. “Smart. Nothing says ‘I love you’ like expecting everyone to be armed.”

“It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to kill you,” I quipped.

Luna placed her hand over mine. “Are you nervous? About tomorrow?”

I considered lying, but the genuine concern in her eyes, which transcended our families’ tangled histories, made me honest. “Terrified,” I admitted quietly. “Not of marrying him.” I glanced at Arrow, whose eyes had darkened at my confession. “But of what happens when two families who’ve spent generations trying to destroy each other suddenly have to play nice.”

Atlas exchanged a look with Arrow that spoke volumes. “The first year is the hardest,” he said. “Everyone is waiting for the alliance to crumble, vultures circling, hoping to pick at the carcass.”

“Not helping, Atlas,” Luna chided, squeezing my hand. “What my tactless husband means is that people will test you. Both of you. But if you stand united, they’ll eventually accept the new order.”

I nodded, feeling Arrow’s eyes on my face. The weight of his stare was both comforting and suffocating, like being wrapped in a blanket that might also be used to smother me.

“I’ve been tested my whole life,” I said, lifting my chin. “Being a Virelli daughter means proving yourself worthy of the name every day.”

“And being a Romanov means knowing when to strike and when to wait,” he added, his voice low enough that only our table could hear. “The city will adjust. They always do.”

Luna and Atlas shared another look. A silent communication that comes from knowing exactly who and what you are to each other. I wondered if Arrow and I would ever have that, or if we’d always be circling each other like predators, waiting for the moment to strike.

“Enough about family politics,” Luna said, patting her belly. “Tell me about the honeymoon. Are you two actually taking one, or is that too conventional for the city’s most dangerous couple?”

Arrow’s hand slid higher on my thigh, his fingers playing at the edge of my dress’s slit. “We have plans,” he said vaguely.

I raised an eyebrow. “We do?” This was news to me.

His thumb traced small circles on my inner thigh, making it hard to concentrate. “Lake Como. Private villa. Two weeks.”

“Italy?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. We’d never discussed honeymoon plans.

“My mother was Italian,” Arrow explained, his eyes never leaving mine. “There’s a property there that’s been in the family for generations. No one’s used it in years.”

Atlas whistled low. “The Bellagio estate? I thought your father sold that after your mother died.”

“He tried,” Arrow said, his voice hardening slightly. “I bought it before he could.”