“Are you going to introduce her to Jazzy?” Derrick asks him.
“Well, she’s going to have dinner with us so I guess so,” he answers.
He’s never let any of his women meet Jazzy before. But with both hands tied, it has to happen sooner or later. Thankfully, Stella has been busy in the kitchen and subtly prepping Jazzy about who’s coming.
“Where’s Brooks?” he asks Derrick.
“No clue,” Derrick replies with a shrug. “I haven’t seen him in a week. Maybe longer now that I think about it. He wasn’t here when we came back from New York.”
“That’s never good. Maybe we need to have someone check on that,” Rory warns. “Stella hasn’t been herself lately either. This whole thing is fucking with her head. She’s been hinting at going out on drops again.”
“Tell me about it,” Derrick mumbles. “Rian is about the only one who can get her to smile these days. She’s not sleeping well either. Paces most nights. And Rory, thanks for keeping her at bay. You know I don’t want her out on business anymore.”
“That’s not going to last for long,” Chase tells everyone with a snort.
He knows Stella. He knows her well enough to guess that she’s searching and trying to find any angle possible to get them out of the hole that she’s sort of helped dug them into. Plotting and finding angles is something that he would normally be doing too except treading carefully has taken precedence this time around. The Five were never people they wanted to fuck with and even though Dominic Mazzilli is Stella’s blood relative, it’s still unclear what the Don has planned for them.
Gut instinct voices to him that if the Don knew of a way to take Derrick out of the picture and still have Stella at his side, the man would go for it. Mazzilli didn’t get to his seat coddling a heart.
Stella’s mind is what draws him to her. He can always count on her to know what he’s thinking and what he’s feeling without him saying a word. Almost the same way it is between him and Derrick. He can always count on her to step up in this family. She’s proven herself time and time again, matching his astuteness and Derrick’s level of mercilessness. She loves his family just as fiercely as he does. Trust when he says, this bunch isn’t easy to love. The lengths that she would go to keep everyone together and unharmed are endless. It’s commendable but it also scares the shit out of him too.
“Here they come,” Elias informs everyone from his desk, his eyes glued to the monitors.
Derrick gets up and the four of them head out to the front of the mansion to greet their guests.
At least Isabella didn’t bring an entourage. She probably thinks it classy and a good show of power. It’s fucking pretentious more than anything else though. But only two town cars are pulling in on this trip.
“Dom didn’t give us a timeframe, Adam. You don’t need to rush things. Maybe there’s still a better way,” Derrick tells him before the first car door opens and a surprisingly thin lackey steps out to open the door for Cristian.
“I fucked her half an hour after meeting her. I don’t think I’m the one doing the rushing, brother.”
Derrick doesn’t respond. He didn’t have to because he’s one hundred percent sure Derrick already knows what’s going through his mind.
The ball is rolling and he’s just along for the ride right now. He’s never been one to wing things. They didn’t get to this position without cunningly plotting except even with all the brainstorming he’s been doing these days, he’s come up empty-handed. Winging shit is all he has left.
To his surprise yet again, a second scrawny man steps out from the second car and opens the door for Isabella. Do they not feed their men or is it a requirement that their soldiers stay lean and look like GQ models? The man stays standing by Isabella’s side while the other passenger door opens on its own and Ariana steps out.
Ariana has crossed his mind many times these past couple of weeks. He’s strangely and curiously staggered why she’s here. And even more, astonished at the outfit she’s chosen.
A black leather skirt that would be too short even on Jazzy IF he ever allowed his daughter to wear something like that. On top, she’s got on a black lace halter top with a zipper straight down the middle. Completely inappropriate for any venue other than a dive bar in the southside of town.
And to answer…NO…he would never let his daughter step out of the house like that. Not now when she’s ten. Not when she’s eighteen. And probably not even when she’s forty.
Who the fuck does this woman think she is, coming to his home dressed like this? Isabella clearly doesn’t have a tight hold on her pet.
Cristian and Isabella take the steps to meet him and Derrick while Ariana slowly follows behind them. While the siblings look smug and confident, Ariana’s focus is on her feet. Slowly placing one before the other with her fingers wringing nervously. She didn’t look one bit comfortable to be here. He hopes to hell she isn’t high, especially with Jazzy here. But the way she’s fiercely trying to focus on her walk tells him otherwise.
“Kings,” Cristian greets them first, extending his perfectly manicured hand for a shake.
Derrick doesn’t even acknowledge it. His twin brother simply sticks his hand in his pocket and gives Cristian a nod with a mumbled greeting. The move makes him grin when he sees Cristian scowl as he tries to subtly retreat.
“Boys,” Isabella greets them.
It’s annoying as fuck to hear her call them that as if they’re meeting up at the fucking sandbox in a schoolyard but he shrugs it off. Now’s not the time to teach her a few things about how shit works around here.
“I hope the trip wasn’t too bad,” he says as politely as possible. He may not like the situation but he can still be civil…for now.
“It’s better now,” Isabella replies with a sultry voice as she slides in between him and Derrick. Her hands immediately slide over each of their arms. “It’s hard to tell the two of you apart from so far away,” she says.
“Shouldn’t be too hard to do that when one wears a wedding band,” Stella’s playful voice says from behind them.
Derrick pulls out of Isabella’s grip as if she’d branded him with a hot iron. He didn’t fault his brother. He didn’t want to be touched by her right now either but he should probably get used to it.
They turn around to face Stella and Derrick struts over to his wife who is politely smiling at their guests.
“You must be Isabella,” Stella says with an outstretched hand.
He observes Isabella take Stella’s hand in a firm grip. It doesn’t seem to faze Stella one bit though. He chuckles lightly to himself, proud of his sister.
“And you are?” Isabella asks as if she didn’t already know but she’s already working on making Mrs. King feel insignificant. Good luck to her. Stella’s a lioness when she needs to be, otherwise, why show your hand when you don’t need to?
“My wife,” Derrick growls out. “Mrs. Stellina King.”
“Ah,” Isabella replies with indifference. “Stellina, un nome Italiano.” An Italian name.
“Puoi chiamarmi, Stella,” she fluently replies, taking her hand back. You can call me, Stella.