Despite everything being settled, Soren carried an edge of mistrust where Titus was concerned. Maybe because no one truly came out of a dealwith The Dante without some kind of debt, spoken or unspoken.
Maybe it was because Soren knew men like him and understood there were always layers beneath every action. He had seen firsthand how Titus maneuvered, how he never made a move without considering the long game. Did he think Titus had an ulterior motive in all of this? That marrying Jazz wasn’t just about her, but about something bigger, something unseen? Or was it simply the instinct of a man who had spent too long fighting to protect what was his? Whatever it was, the tension hadn’t faded, and Jazz could feel it now lingering betweenthem.
To everyone else, it seemed like the issue had been resolved, but the wariness in Soren’s posture told her otherwise. He was here, but he wasn’t at ease. Atall.
Jazz noted the way his fingers flexed slightly at his sides, the stiffness in his shoulders. It struck her as odd—Soren had been there for the wedding, seen everything resolved, yet he looked as if he were waiting forsomething to go wrong. Did he still not trust Titus? Or was it something deeper? Something she couldn’tsee?
For a brief moment, she considered going over to him, smoothing things over, but she hesitated. This wasn’t just tension—it was something else entirely. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t hers tofix.
Jazz didn’t have time to dwell on it as they all moved toward the table.
Conversation ebbed and flowed as plates were passed around, filled with freshly made omelets, crisp bacon, and golden croissants. Poppy kept the conversation light, while Cade and Zane offered commentary that often had Lily laughing in delight. Sam, eager to play host, kept everyone’s glasses full, though Jazz noticed the way his hand shook slightly when he reached for the bottle.
Titus, ever observant, leaned closer to Jazz. “Comfortable?”
She swallowed her sip of mimosa and met his gaze. “It’s… a lot.”
He gave her a knowing smile. “You’ll getused to it.”
Would she?
Before she could answer, Poppy touched her arm, drawing her attention. “Come outside with me?”
Jazz hesitated, but Poppy’s expression was open, sincere. She nodded, allowing her to guide her through the kitchen and out onto the stone pathway leading into the garden.
The air felt cooler here, fragrant with blooming roses and jasmine. Everything looked beautiful—manicured, peaceful, yet somehow untamed around the edges, as if nature remained always on the verge of reclaiming it. In a way, it reminded her of Titus— calm, refined, yet with something deeper, wilder, lurking just beneath the surface. He commanded his world with precision, but there was always a sense that he held something back, that his constraint was a choice, not a limitation.
Poppy tucked a strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear. “I wanted to talk to you about something important.”
Jazz turned to faceher fully. “Okay.”
Poppy hesitated for only a second before speaking, her fingers twisting together before she stilled them. “The inheritance.” Her voice was steady, but Jazz caught the brief flicker of something in her sister’s eyes—determination, maybe, or the faintest trace of guilt.
Jazz’s stomach dipped. Memories from the past few months rushed through her—her grandfather’s inheritance, bypassing Sam entirely, falling into Poppy’s hands. Then Sam, reckless as always, had gambled himself into a hole and used that very inheritance as collateral at one of Titus’s casinos.
It was that debt that had first entangled their family with Titus. That was why he had been engaged to Poppy in the first place. And when she married Soren instead, Jazz had thought that connection was severed. But somehow, for reasons she didn’t fully understand, Titus had turned his attention to her instead.
The inheritance had always loomed in the background, afortunetied to conditions, expectations, and consequences that none of them had fully understood. She had assumed it was no longer relevant after Poppy had married Soren, that whatever financial ties existed between them had been settled. But clearly, that wasn’t thecase.
Poppy continued. “Titus doesn’t know, but if I refuse the money, it goes to you.”
Silence stretched between them, thick with the gravity of something Jazz couldn’t quite define. Adistinct mix of shock and unease struck her, leaving her uncertain whether to feel trapped by this revelation or relieved by the security it offered. Did this change anything? Should it? The significance of the decision pressed down on her, demanding answers she wasn’t ready to give. Shock. Uncertainty. Aflicker of something she didn’t want toname.
Jazz blinked. “I—Ithought it went to charity?”
Poppy shook her head. “No. That’s what everyone assumed. But I spoke with the lawyer. If I don’t take it, you’re next in line. The will wasstructured that way. Grandfather never intended for it to leave the family.”
Jazz froze. “Why are you telling me this?”
Poppy’s eyes softened. “Because I want you to have options. If you ever need to walk away… you’ll have the means to do it.”
Jazz’s chest tightened. Walk away. The words echoed in her mind, unsettling her. Was that what Poppy thought she needed? Did she think Jazz was trapped? Or was this simply a sister’s love, asafeguard, nothing more? Apart of her wanted to argue, to tell Poppy she didn’t need an exit plan. That she wasn’t looking forone.
But another part of her—one she wasn’t quite ready to face—stayed silent.
“Poppy—”
Poppy gave her hand a small, firm squeeze, her eyes steady and filled with something that looked like both certainty and concern. “I’m not saying you should leave him. I’m saying you should have a choice. And choicesmatter.”
