The silk glided over her, molding effortlessly to her figure. She had to admit—Titus had good taste. The fabric was cool against her skin, smooth and airy, draping over her in a way that felt both elegant and natural. It was the kind of dress that made her feel put together without effort, aquiet luxury that whispered rather than shouted. He hadn’t just chosen beautifulthings—he’d chosen things that made her feel good in them. Then she fastened the tiny buttons at her wrist, taking a steadying breath.
“Perfect,” Titus murmured, his voice low, approving.
She met his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. He had already dressed—black slacks, acrisp charcoal button-down, the sleeves rolled just enough to expose his forearms. He looked powerful, completely at ease in his own skin. It wasn’t fair how naturally he settled into himself, while she felt like she was trying to find her footing.
She turned toward him just as he pushed away from the door, stepping closer. He held something small between his fingers, the faint glint catching the light.
“Wear this.”
It wasn’t a request.
Her breath caught slightly as she looked down at the delicate gold pendant he held—aphoenix, simple yet striking, suspended on a thin chain. The craftsmanship was exquisite,the wings etched with fine detail, as if caught mid-flight.
She swallowed. “A phoenix?”
Titus reached behind her, fastening the chain at her nape, his fingers grazing her skin. “A symbol of resilience,” he murmured. “Of rebirth.”
Her pulse jumped at the intimacy of the moment. Of what it meant. It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry—it was a declaration, aquiet claim. The weight of it settled against her collarbone, warm from his touch, areminder that he saw her in ways she wasn’t sure she was ready for. Did he mean it as a simple gesture, or was it something more? Something unspoken, deliberate? The thought sent another flutter through her chest, one she couldn’t quite define.
His fingers lingered a beat longer before he stepped back, his gaze heavy on hers. “It suits you.”
Jazz pressed her fingers to the pendant, feeling the warmth of the metal against her skin. Agift. Achoice he had made for her. Emotion swelled in her chest—gratitude, maybe evensomething softer, something she couldn’t quite name. She turned to him, stepping closer, and without overthinking it, she rose onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Aquiet thank you. Arecognition of the gesture.
Titus stilled, his gaze darkening as he studied her, as if committing the moment to memory. The air between them thickened, charged with something unspoken.
Jazz’s stomach tightened—not with fear, but with awareness. The strength of his attention sent a slow heat bubbling through her, unsettling and undeniable. Did he expect more? Did she want him to? The thought made her shiver.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached up, brushing his fingers over the curve of her jaw, his thumb lingering just beneath her chin. “You’re welcome, wife.”
Titus led her downstairs, his hand warm at the small of her back as they moved through the sprawling house. The scent of fresh coffee and something rich and butterydrifted from the kitchen, mingling with the quiet murmur of voices ahead.
Jazz had barely had time to process the morning, let alone prepare herself for whatever this brunch entailed. Aswirl of emotions sat heavy in her chest—anticipation, atouch of anxiety, and something she couldn’t quitename.
There was an odd sense of belonging, yet a lingering uncertainty about her place in this world Titus had woven around her. She had chosen this, yet the burden of that choice settled in unexpected ways. Was she ready for this? For all of it? She inhaled slowly, steadying herself. This was her new life. Her new family. And whether or not she felt ready, she had no choice but to step intoit.
The family dining room felt inviting, acontrast to the grandeur she expected. It was warm, intimate, with a long oak table bathed in sunlight from the large windows overlooking the back gardens. The scent of freshly baked bread filled the air, along with the unmistakable pop of a champagne bottle beingopened.
Sam Mirabella’s voice rang out. “Mimosas, anyone? Let’s make this a celebration!”
Jazz barely had time to react before she was suddenly under scrutiny.
Two men stood as Titus guided her forward.
“You remember my brothers,” Titus said smoothly.
The first, alarge, broad-shouldered man with dark eyes and a quiet intensity, nodded. “Zane,” Jazz greeted him. She remembered that others called him The Enforcer, aname that suited the quiet dominance he carried.
The second, taller and leaner, with a knowing grin that didn’t quite hide the astuteness in his eyes, stepped forward. Before she could speak, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, the gesture smooth and effortless. “Little sister,” hesaid.
“Good morning, Cade,” Jazz replied, her voice even, though she was keenly aware of the scrutinyin hisgaze.
Titus had once referred to Cade as the Dante Chief and Consigliere, atitle she had assumed was a joke at the time. Now, standing here, seeing the calculating intelligence in his eyes, she wasn’t sosure.
She grew more keenly aware of the two. Zane, the unshakable force who exuded quiet dominance, the one people feared for good reason. And Cade, the strategist, the charmer—the man whose easy smile could put you at ease right before he dismantledyou.
She looked between them, taking in their stark differences. Zane’s presence was quiet but absolute. Cade, on the other hand, seemed more fluid, the kind of man who could smile while slipping a dagger between yourribs.
“Welcome to the family,” Cade added, eyes glittering with interest as he studied her. “Or should I say, welcome to the kingdom?”
