TWENTY-TWO: How Is He A King?

Their jaws are still catching up to gravity.

Oh wow, what a sight. This would have been really good on the gram.

All four of them—including Mia—they all just . . . stare. Blank-eyed. Like their brains blue-screened from sheer disbelief. I can almost hear the dial-up tone going off in Sierra’s skull as she looks from Dante’s perfect, sculpted jawline to my face as if someone’s dropped a bloody murder weapon in her lap and said, "Hey, it’s yours now."

I’d laugh if I weren’t so goddamn tired.

Mia's eyes flick between us. “Your . . . husband?”

I smile, slow and smug, fingers still pressed to Dante’s chest though [I’ve claimed him with a fucking brand. “Mm-hmm.”

Her lip curls just slightly—so fast the average bitch might miss it, but not me. Not when I’ve survived being raised in a den full of smiling wolves.

Sierra recovers first, because of course she does. “Oh. Wow. You just . . . moved on up, didn’t you?”

I don’t take the bait.

But Mia, bless her little Prada-wrapped heart, lets her di