Chapter 11

POV: Daniella

I needed air. Or maybe just an excuse to stop pretending everything was fine.

The lanterns cast golden halos across the garden as I weaved past tables, ignoring the swirl of conversation around me. I didn’t know where I was going—until I saw him.

Ace.

Leaning against a tall stone column near the champagne bar, sleeves rolled up, tie long forgotten. And standing in front of him—Helena.

She was stunning. Tall, sleek, draped in dark green satin that shimmered with every movement. Her smile was slow and dangerous. The kind that said I always get what I want.

Ace was laughing—laughing—in that low, teasing way that sent heat to my core. She touched his forearm lightly, her long fingers tracing a pattern. He didn’t pull away.

I stopped walking. My chest burned.

Helena leaned in, murmured something in his ear. He smirked, head tilting slightly. My jaw clenched.

That should be me.

I took a step back, unsure if I wanted to scream or cry or yank her away by the hair.

You’re not even his girlfriend, a voice in my head snapped.

You’re not anyone’s.

Except I was. I was theirs. And they were mine.

Even if the world didn’t know. Even if I had to smile through it like nothing burned inside me.

But right now?

Right now, I wanted to be selfish.

I tossed back the rest of the champagne and barely tasted it.

The burn in my throat did nothing to smother the fire in my chest. I scanned the room again, hoping for Bob, needing the comfort of his presence like oxygen. My eyes found him standing near the edge of the reception tent, locked in conversation with his father and Matthew. His jaw was tight, nodding politely, hands clasped behind his back like he was five seconds from snapping.

I knew that look.

He wasn’t coming anytime soon.

Another glass, then. I snatched one off a passing tray and downed it halfway before I could second-guess myself.

Stop it, I told myself. You’re fine. You’re fine. You’re just being crazy. You trust them. They love you.

But love doesn’t make jealousy vanish. Love doesn’t erase the image of Guinevere with her hand on Nate’s chest, or Helena’s perfect mouth whispering in Ace’s ear.

I needed to breathe. Alone.

The balcony called to me like a lifeline. I pushed through the heavy glass doors and let the cool night air bite into my skin.

The music dulled behind me, muffled by distance and thick walls. Lanterns lined the stone rail, casting long, golden shadows over the garden below. My heart beat hard in my ribs, like it wanted to escape me.

I leaned forward, palms against the railing, and let my eyes slip shut.

Why did this hurt so much?

I was loved. I was. I knew it. I felt it. But jealousy wasn’t rational. It was a monster with my voice, whispering that I wasn’t enough. That maybe, just maybe, I never had been.

Footsteps behind me.

I turned.

Ace.

The tension in my chest shattered at the sight of him. His tie hung loose, shirt slightly wrinkled, hair mussed from running his hand through it like he always did when he was overwhelmed.

God, he was beautiful. And he was mine.

He stepped out and shut the door behind him. “You okay?”

The words cracked something open inside me.

I swallowed. “No.”

His brow furrowed as he came closer. “Talk to me.”

“I saw you,” I whispered. “With Helena.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“She was flirting with you.”

“She was,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hard. She’s… very confident.”

I almost laughed, but it came out a broken sound. “You smiled. You laughed.”

He stepped closer. “Because I was stuck. I couldn’t just walk away without making it weird. I was trying not to cause a scene.”

“You didn’t have to enjoy it,” I snapped, hating how weak my voice sounded.

His face softened. “Dani… look at me.”

I did.

“I’m sorry. If I’d known it would hurt you, I would’ve walked away anyway. Even if it was awkward. Because I don’t give a damn about Helena. I don’t see her. I don’t want her.”

He paused, then added, voice low, intense:

“I want you. I only want you.”

My breath caught.

“I love you,” he said, like a confession and a vow. “I look for you in every room. Even when I’m smiling at someone else, I’m wondering where you are. If you’re okay. If you’re watching. If you need me.”

I couldn’t hold it in anymore. The jealousy, the longing, the unbearable need to feel that I hadn’t lost him.

I surged forward.

Our mouths crashed together.

His hands found my waist, pulling me into him with a growl low in his throat. My fingers tangled in his shirt, dragging him closer. The kiss was everything I’d been aching for—hot, hungry, desperate. A release of everything I hadn’t said.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

He tasted like everything I missed. Like home. Like mine.

“I needed this,” I gasped between kisses. “Needed you.”

“I’m here,” he murmured, lips brushing mine. “I’m always—”

A voice cut through the moment like a blade.

“What the hell?!”

We froze.

I turned slowly, the blood draining from my face.

Charlotte.

She stood in the doorway, staring at us like she’d just walked in on a crime scene. Her mouth hung open, eyes wide, full of disbelief and fury.

“Oh my god,” she said. “What the hell is going on?”

Chapter 12

POV: Daniella

Charlotte’s voice echoed like a slap in the stillness.

“What the hell?!”

I jerked back from Ace like I’d been scalded. His hands slipped from my waist, my mouth still tingling from the kiss, the world already spinning. Charlotte stood frozen at the threshold, her face a mess of confusion, betrayal, and fury.

She stepped forward, hands shaking.

“I liked you,” she snapped, her voice cracking. “I thought you were a good person. You seemed so sweet. So kind. But you’re cheating on my brother at my wedding—with his best friend?!”

“Charlotte—” I started, the word falling apart in my throat.

“No,” she cut in. “No, don’t. I don’t want excuses.”

“It’s not what you think,” I tried again, taking a step toward her, heart pounding in my chest like a war drum.

She laughed. Cold. Harsh. “Really? Because what I’m seeing is you with your tongue down someone else’s throat.”

I opened my mouth to explain—but how do you start to explain something like this? That this wasn’t betrayal, but truth? That the shame wasn’t in the kiss—but in the lie we’d all agreed to wear like a costume?

“I need to tell Bob,” she said, eyes blazing.

“No—please, please, Charlotte,” I begged, stepping in front of her. “Don’t tell your mother.”

She stopped short. Blinked. “What?”

“Just—just don’t tell your mom, okay?” My voice cracked, breath shaking. “Please.”

She stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Why would I tell her? I said I’m telling Bob.”

My stomach dropped.

Her hand hit the balcony doors hard as she shoved them open and shouted into the hall, voice ringing through the space like a bell:

“BOB!”

My whole body froze.

It’s over.

The performance, the illusion, the delicate balance we’d all been tiptoeing across—it shattered with that single word.

Seconds later, footsteps approached—fast.

Bob appeared in the doorway, eyes alert, mouth already half-open with some quip. But he wasn’t alone.

Nate was right behind him, his hand brushing Bob’s arm like he’d tried to stop him. And trailing just behind them, arms folded and smirk smug, was Guinevere.

Perfect.

Bob stepped onto the balcony, took one look at Charlotte’s stormy face, at me standing there like a guilty shadow, and then at Ace—still beside me, still silent—and said:

“Well… this looks like a family reunion.”

Charlotte spun on him. “This is serious, Robert.”

His shoulders tensed at the use of his full name.

“I didn’t call you out here to joke,” she snapped. “I called you out here to tell you something really bad.”

His gaze flicked from her to me. I tried to hide the panic in my eyes—but his expression softened just a fraction. Like he already knew.

Charlotte turned to him fully, fire in her voice.

“Your girlfriend is cheating on you.”

My breath caught.

Bob looked at me.

Charlotte pointed between me and Ace, eyes wide. “I caught her. With Ace. On the balcony. They were kissing. Kissing, Robert!”

Silence.

Bob didn’t flinch. Didn’t scream. Didn’t ask why.

Charlotte’s expression cracked. “Wait—what? You’re not even surprised. Did you know?”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “Yes.”

“What the fuck do you mean, yes?!”

Nate stepped closer now, his hand brushing the small of my back in silent support. I didn’t even realize I was trembling until that moment.

Charlotte looked from him to Bob, then to Ace. “Wait—what is this? What is happening?”

Bob exhaled slowly, like he’d been waiting for this. “We were going to tell you after the wedding. It was just… not the time.”

“You were going to what?”

Bob’s voice stayed calm, but firm. “It’s not cheating. Not like you think. We’re not in an open relationship. This isn’t some random hookup thing. This is… it’s our relationship.”

Charlotte’s eyes narrowed. “Your relationship?”

“She’s not just my girlfriend,” Bob said, glancing toward me, then Ace, then Nate. “She’s ours.”

Guinevere let out a stunned laugh. Nate flinched.

Bob pressed on, voice thick with honesty now, no more masks. “I love her. But so do they. And she loves all of us. We tried to fight it, to ignore it. But in the end… this is who we are.”

Charlotte’s lips parted like she was about to argue—but nothing came out.

“You don’t have to understand it,” Bob added, his voice quieter now. “But it’s real. It’s honest. And it’s ours.”

I stood there, throat raw, heart exposed, bracing for her to explode again. But she didn’t.

She just looked at me. Long and hard.

Then she turned and walked out, heels clicking like gunshots down the hall.

Charlotte was gone.

Her heels clacked down the hallway like a gavel—final, sharp, punishing. Guinevere hesitated for a moment, hovering with wide eyes and parted lips like she wanted to say something… but Nate gently touched her elbow and guided her away.

And then we were alone. Me. Bob. Nate. Ace.

The moment the door shut behind them, the air shattered in my lungs.

“I ruined everything.”

My voice cracked as it left me. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it was too big to hold in. My chest heaved, like something wild and broken inside me was thrashing to get out.

“I—fuck—” My legs gave out and I sunk to the cold stone floor of the balcony. “It’s over. She’s going to tell your mom. She hates me. Bob, I—I ruined everything, I—”

Warm arms were around me before I could finish the thought.

Bob’s hands pulled me in, his voice a low whisper against my temple. “No. No, you didn’t. Look at me, baby. You didn’t ruin anything.”

Nate knelt beside us, his hand sliding gently across my back. Ace dropped to the other side, taking one of my shaking hands into his.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Nate said softly. “You just… loved us.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” I whispered. “I was trying so hard to do everything right. To be enough. For your family. For—”

“You are enough,” Ace said fiercely. “You’re everything.”

Bob cradled my face in his hands, tilting my chin until my eyes met his. “We’ll figure it out. Okay? But don’t you ever say you ruined anything. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to us.”

The sob hit me like a storm, and I clung to him—fisted my hands in his shirt, pressed my forehead to his shoulder, cried like I’d been holding it in for years. Because maybe I had.

Maybe this had never just been about Charlotte.

Maybe this was about being seen. Known. Loved.

They didn’t speak. They just held me.

Surrounded me.

Loved me.

—

We left the reception quietly, the night curling around us like velvet. Bob wrapped his jacket around my shoulders. Ace kept his hand in mine. Nate walked ahead, already speaking to the front desk. No one stopped us. The world moved on like it didn’t know everything had broken—and maybe, maybe, that was okay.

We reached our suite.

The second the door clicked shut, I sagged into Bob’s chest again. I felt wrung out. Empty and too full all at once.

But I wasn’t alone.

“Let us show you,” Nate whispered, stepping close.

“Show you how much you mean to us,” Bob added.

Ace brushed a kiss against my shoulder. “Every part of you.”

They didn’t rush. They didn’t grab. They moved like they were touching something holy.

And maybe they were.

Maybe I was.

My dress was eased down my body, soft fabric slipping to the floor. Hands—so many hands, so gentle—guided me back to the bed. The world blurred around me, and the only thing that mattered was them.

They kissed me like I was sacred.

Bob’s mouth found mine, tender and deep, his fingers brushing tears from my cheeks. Nate kissed the curve of my neck, whispering, “You are everything.” Ace moved lower, worshipping me with reverence, his hands stroking over my thighs like he was mapping a masterpiece.

They touched me like they were putting me back together.

Chapter 13

POV: Bob

She was trembling.

Not from the cold—no, Dani never trembled from the cold.

It was that kind of shaking that started in the heart and spilled into the fingers. I knew it the moment I saw her on that damn balcony, tears streaking the makeup she’d so carefully applied earlier.

Fuck.

It hurt.

Not because I didn’t trust her—I did.

But because I knew how hard she tried. How many times she’d swallowed her own needs to protect this ridiculous façade we’d all agreed to. I knew what it cost her to be cautious. And she was cautious. Dani never would’ve done that unless she was breaking.

And she was.

Charlotte’s voice had been sharp. Accusatory.

And Dani?

She fell apart the second the door clicked shut.

Not a slow unraveling.

Not a graceful descent.

She just… shattered.

“I ruined everything.”

Her voice splintered into the night—so full of pain it carved into my ribs.

I saw her breaking, and that broke me too.

Before she even hit the floor, I caught her.

My arms wrapped around her, and she clung to me like I was the only solid thing left in her world.

“I—fuck—” Her voice trembled against my chest. “It’s over. She’s going to tell your mom. She hates me. Bob, I—I ruined everything, I—”

“No. Look at me, baby.”

I held her tighter. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

But I knew she believed she had.

Because Dani was always careful.

Always measuring her steps around my family.

How she avoided brushing Ace’s hand in public, how she hesitated even with Nate if anyone was watching.

She hadn’t planned that kiss. That moment on the balcony wasn’t a betrayal.

It was a breaking point.

And God, I knew what it cost her.

Ace and Nate dropped to the ground beside us—their presence like gravity. I felt them anchoring her. Grounding me.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Nate said gently. “You just… loved us.”

“But it wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” she whispered. “I was trying so hard to do everything right. To be enough. For your family. For—”

“You are enough,” Ace said fiercely. “You’re everything.”

He cradled her face in his hands, tilting her chin until their eyes met.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said, leaning in. “But don’t you ever say you ruined anything. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to us.”

She cried. Shook. Came apart in my arms.

And something in me cracked open, too.

I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t hurt.

I just wanted to wrap myself around her and never let go.

I opened my arms and she folded into me like she’d been waiting all night for this one thing—to be held, not judged.

I buried my face in her hair and exhaled.

God, I hated that she was hurting. That she felt guilty for loving us.

“We’re leaving,” I said, pulling back to meet their eyes.

Nate nodded instantly.

Ace reached for her hand.

“Let’s go.”

We didn’t speak on the walk back to the suite.

Ace’s hand rested on her lower back, steady and warm.

Nate slung an arm over her shoulders.

Mine stayed in hers—tight, constant.

Back in the room, she stood in the center like she was trying to hold the pieces together.

Shoulders hunched. Arms wrapped around herself.

When the door shut, she looked up at me—red-eyed, shaken, exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I shook my head.

“No more apologies.”

She looked like she wanted to argue. Like she might unravel all over again.

So I kissed her.

Hard.

Full.

Deep.

She melted into it.

When we pulled back, I held her face in my hands. “Let us show you. Let us help you fall apart, baby.”

She looked up at me—really looked—and maybe that was all it took.

The way I said it.

The way Ace stepped in close beside her.

How Nate touched her back like she was both fragile and powerful.

“I love you,” she said, voice raw. “All of you. I swear I—”

“Shh,” I murmured, tilting her chin. “We know.”

Her eyes welled again. But she nodded.

And in that second, I swear—I’d have given her the fucking world.

We undressed her like she was something holy.

Not a rush. Not a fuck.

A worship.

I kissed remind her, with every brush of my lips, that she was safe. That no matter what storm waited outside, in here, with us, she was loved.

Nate stepped in next, his hands gliding over her arms, his mouth at her shoulder. “You are beautiful, baby girl. Ours. So fucking beautiful.”

Ace was behind her, fingers steady, undoing the zipper of her dress like he was unwrapping something sacred. His voice was low, warm against her ear. “Let us take care of you. Let us love you right.”

And we did.

We showed her.

What it meant to be seen—entirely.

What it meant to be held without judgment, touched without shame, adored without conditions.

This wasn’t about taking turns.

It wasn’t about who got what piece of her.

It was about giving. Everything. All at once.

I kissed her again—deeper this time. Not rushed. Not greedy. Just… full. Like maybe my mouth could undo every cruel thing she’d ever been told about herself.

Like I could kiss the guilt right out of her bones.

I kissed her like I meant it.

Because I did.

I trailed my mouth along her jaw, down the column of her throat, across her collarbone. She gasped softly when I reached her breasts, arching into me as I wrapped my lips around one nipple, then the other. I worshipped her there too, slow and open-mouthed, until her fingers tangled in my hair.

I moved lower.

My hands slid along her thighs, spreading her open gently. Reverently.

She was already wet for me—God, so wet—and I just… looked at her for a second. Let myself feel it.

Then I leaned in and kissed her there. Tongue deep, mouth greedy.

I drank from her like she was the only thing that could ever satisfy me.

She moaned—sharp and breathless—as I sucked her clit and licked up every bit of her slick.

Nate kissed her mouth at the same time, swallowing her cries while Ace’s hands found her breasts, his fingers teasing gently.

We were a team.

Her team.

Built to worship her.

She tugged at my hair, her hips moving with every stroke of my tongue.

I slid one finger inside her, curling just right, and felt her pulse tighten around me.

“Yes,” Nate whispered, brushing her temple. “Just like that, beautiful. Come for us, Dani.”

And she did.

She shattered—loud, gasping, perfect.

Her whole body trembled, but even undone, she never stayed still for long.

She pushed me back on the bed, eyes wild with need and love. She undressed me like she couldn’t wait another second. And when I was bare before her, she dropped to her knees and took me into her mouth.

Fuck.

The feel of her—hot, wet, hungry—sent a lightning bolt straight through me.

She wasn’t just sucking me off.

She was loving me.

Rebuilding me from the inside out.

I groaned, bracing myself on my elbows as she moved—slow at first, then deeper, her tongue tracing every vein. Her hands cradled my thighs, grounding me even as she tore me apart.

Behind her, Nate and Ace were ready. We didn’t need words—we knew how to move together now.

Ace knelt behind her, guiding himself to her ass, his hands firm on her hips.

Nate kissed her spine, whispered against her skin, then pushed inside her pussy in one long, deep thrust.

She gasped around me, and I nearly lost it right then.

The rhythm they found was perfect.

Controlled. Intimate.

Like a symphony written just for her body.

Her moans were muffled around my cock, but I felt every one of them in my bones.

She was everywhere—around me, above me, between us.

I held her hair and looked down at her, at the flush in her cheeks, the heat in her eyes.

“You’re perfect,” I breathed. “You’re fucking perfect. I’m not gonna last—”

She didn’t stop.

Didn’t falter.

I came hard, deeper than I ever had, and she swallowed every drop with a hum that felt like a thank you.

Ace groaned behind her, fingers digging into her hips as he came, and Nate reached between them, rubbing her clit until she cried out again.

And then she broke—again—louder this time, her body clenching, shaking, alive.

And in that moment, everything settled in my chest.

I didn’t feel like I was sharing her.

I didn’t feel threatened.

I didn’t feel lost.

I felt whole.

Because we weren’t dividing her love.

We were multiplying it.

Together.

For her.

And she deserved every fucking second of it.

Chapter 14

POV: Bob

The morning sun cut through the gauzy curtains, golden and soft, wrapping everything in the kind of light that made even chaos feel sacred.

Dani was nestled between Nate and me, her legs tangled with mine, her head resting on Nate’s chest. Ace was sprawled out at the foot of the bed like a kicked puppy, one arm hanging off the edge, his hair a glorious mess. How he ended up there, we weren’t sure. But it was so him, and we loved him for it.

She stirred first, blinking slowly as the room came into focus. Her brows knit together, adorably grumpy.

“We should skip breakfast,” she murmured, voice rough with sleep, eyes still closed.

I smirked. “Tempting. Very tempting.”

“But?”

“But you should go,” I said gently, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “Hold your head high.”

“I don’t want to,” she grumbled, burying her face in Nate’s chest. “I’d rather stay right here, warm and covered in all of you.”

Ace groaned from the end of the bed. “That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

Nate’s fingers traced lazy circles along her back. “Yeah, but if we don’t go, your fake girlfriend status might be in question.”

“I hate that part,” Dani said, peeking up at me with a sleepy pout. “Lying. Pretending I’m only yours.”

My heart squeezed. I leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Then we won’t pretend. I’ll walk with you. Hand in hand. Proud.”

She looked at me then, really looked. A slow, soft smile bloomed on her face.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Ace rolled onto his back, stretching dramatically. “Okay, but if anyone insults her, I get to cause a scene. Like, a real one. Table flip, wine toss, dramatic gasp—the works.”

Dani giggled. “You’d do it too.”

“I will do it. So someone better test me.”

Nate smirked. “Not before coffee. You’re only half-dramatic without caffeine.”

Ace threw a pillow at him. “Rude.”

I nudged Dani. “Come on, sunshine. Let’s get up before Ace declares war.”

“Five more minutes,” she whispered, but she was already stretching, her body brushing against mine in a way that made restraint a heroic act.

“Five more minutes and I’ll make you late,” I warned, kissing the side of her neck.

“Oh no,” she said, mock-gasping. “A scandal and a late entrance?”

“We could always help you shower,” Nate offered, his tone dripping with suggestion.

Dani sat up slowly, hair a wild halo, face flushed from sleep and kisses. “That’s not helping,” she said, voice low and sweet. “That’s making me want to skip more than breakfast.”

We all groaned.

“Fine,” Ace said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “We’ll behave. Let’s get dressed before I throw you all back into bed.”

I watched her slip out from under the sheets, pulling my shirt over her head. It hung down to her thighs, the hem brushing bare skin. She looked over her shoulder and caught me staring.

“What?” she said, smiling innocently.

I stood and walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing her shoulder. “You look like you belong to me when you wear my shirt.”

She leaned back into me. “That’s because I do.”

Nate threw a shirt at me. “Okay, you two lovebirds, less claiming, more dressing. We’ve got a show to put on.”

Together, we dressed. Ace cursed under his breath trying to find socks. Nate helped Dani with her dress, zipping her up slowly while pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades. I fixed my collar and watched them all with this quiet, swelling pride I didn’t know I could feel.

We walked out together.

Her between us.

Head high.

Hand in hand.

And I knew—let them whisper, let them guess. Let them judge if they dared.

She was ours.

And we weren’t hiding anymore.

The breakfast room was a flurry of porcelain and polite chatter, sun filtering through the tall windows in soft ribbons of gold. Dani stood between Nate and Ace, laughing softly at something Ace had whispered near her ear. Her hand brushed Nate’s as she reached for the orange juice, and I saw the way his fingers lingered a second longer than necessary.

It wasn’t scandalous. It wasn’t loud.

But it was ours. Real. Honest. And fragile.

Only two people in this whole goddamn building knew the truth—and for now, that was enough.

Charlotte caught my eye from across the room, her perfectly arched brow rising slightly. She tilted her head toward the garden doors.

I looked at Dani, and she met my gaze immediately. Like she could feel me leave before I even moved. She tilted her head in a silent question.

I nodded once. I’ll be back.

Charlotte and I walked through the glass doors into the warm morning air, the kind that smelled faintly of gardenia and old money. The gravel crunched under our feet as we found a quiet path lined with roses and manicured silence.

She didn’t say anything at first.

She just looked at me. That sister look, like she could read every thought I hadn’t spoken yet.

“How did this happen?” she asked, arms crossed gently over her cream-colored dress. Her voice wasn’t angry—just curious. Thoughtful.

I let out a breath and ran a hand through my hair. “We… all fell in love,” I said, voice low. “At the same time. And it just—God, Charlotte—it just worked. There was a night… and things got heated, and suddenly we were in it, and it felt so right we couldn’t pretend it wasn’t.”

Her expression didn’t shift. Just… absorbed.

“And are you happy?” she asked.

I laughed softly, a little incredulous at how easy it was to answer. “I’ve never been this happy before,” I said. “Not even close. Dani is…” I paused, smiling to myself. “She’s fire and comfort and chaos and home. And Nate and Ace—they’re like my brothers. We make it work. We want to make it work.”

Charlotte gave me the smallest, most knowing smile.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for hiding it. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I just… I couldn’t tell Mom. You know what she’d do.”

Charlotte laughed, sharp and quiet. “You? Tell Mother this? She’d lock you in the wine cellar and call a priest.”

I snorted. “Exactly.”

Her eyes softened. “I’m not going to tell her. Or anyone. I already asked Guini to keep it quiet too.”

Relief hit me like a warm wave. “Thank you.”

She stepped closer and rested her hand on my arm. “If it makes you happy, I don’t give a damn if it’s not conventional. You deserve that, Bobby. Real happiness. Not curated, not inherited. Yours.”

Something cracked open in my chest at that. The tight part I hadn’t even realized I’d kept clenched since we walked into this estate.

She pulled me into a hug—tight, real, like when we were kids and I used to sneak into her room after a nightmare.

I held on.

Just for a moment longer than I needed to.

When we came back inside, the room felt a little too bright. Too loud. But I only saw her.

Dani.

Standing at the buffet, the pale green dress hugging her curves—the same curves I worshipped with my mouth hours ago. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders, and she smiled as she lifted a strawberry to her lips.

She caught me watching.

Her lips curled into a soft smile.

Like I was the only one in the room.

My feet stopped moving. My heart didn’t.

Charlotte leaned in beside me and murmured under her breath, “You are so trapped.”

I didn’t deny it.

I didn’t want to.

And then—

The front doors burst open, loud enough to cut through the clinking of silverware.

Clara.

Red dress. Mascara smudged. Drunk as hell and furious beneath it all.

She stumbled slightly, eyes wild, jaw tense.

Her voice rang out across the room. “If he’s not mine, then he won’t be anyone’s.”

The room fell silent.

Dani froze mid-motion, her hand still holding the tongs.

My heart punched into my ribs.

And everything stopped.

Chapter 15

POV: Daniella

The scent of buttery croissants and fresh coffee clung to the morning air, soft and warm, like the way sunlight spilled through the tall windows. Around me, guests murmured over steaming plates, servers refilled carafes, someone laughed across the room. It should’ve felt normal.

But inside me, things were still fragile.

Last night had shattered something in me. Not because of the love. God, no—because of the fear. Of being seen. Exposed. Judged.

But the boys made me feel loved.

My fingers grazed a strawberry, and I smiled—thinking of last night. Of them. The way Bob looked at me like I was something sacred. The way Nate whispered against my skin. The way Ace always made me laugh even as he made me burn.

I could still feel them on me.

So when I saw them—Bob and Charlotte—walking back inside together, talking quietly… I froze.

My heart thudded like a war drum.

But then Bob looked at me.

And smiled.

Not a forced one. Not for show. A real smile—his smile. That small, knowing one he gave me when he was holding back too many feelings at once. It hit me like a warm wave, thawing the ice in my chest.

Charlotte’s expression was neutral, unreadable, but she didn’t look angry. She didn’t look like she’d just promised to burn our world down.

And that… that made me breathe again.

Bob’s gaze didn’t drift. Not once. It stayed on me like a touch, soft and certain. My fingers brushed the edge of the white tablecloth, grounding myself in it, in him. He had that look again—the one that said, you’re mine, and I’m not letting go.

And for the first time since waking, I let myself believe… maybe we were okay. Maybe Charlotte understood. Maybe I wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

Bob broke away from Charlotte and crossed the room.

I didn’t realize I’d stopped breathing until he was right in front of me—until his hand slid to my lower back, warm and familiar, grounding me instantly. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my temple, like he couldn’t help himself.

“You okay?” he murmured, so quietly only I could hear.

I nodded, my fingers curling into his jacket. Being this close to him—here, in the open—felt like a small victory. Like maybe the worst was behind us.

I turned back to the buffet, heart lighter, fingers reaching for a strawberry, still smiling, still holding onto him.

It was in that exact moment that I heard the sound.

Heels on marble. Rushed. Uneven.

Too close, too loud.

The tongs slipped from my fingers and clattered into the tray. A sharp, metallic sound that somehow silenced everything inside me.

I turned slowly, blood draining from my face.

She stood in the doorway like a ghost pulled from my worst nightmare—Clara.

Her dress was wrinkled, her eyes wild. Lipstick smeared. She looked wrong. Off. Not just drunk—but disconnected. Her gaze flitted across the crowd before it landed on me like a flame catching oil.

“If he’s not mine,” she said, breathless with fury, “he won’t be anyone’s.”

The words echoed through my chest, freezing the air in my lungs.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

Because I knew—she meant him.

Her eyes locked on Bob instantly. Not me. Him.

Her hand came up.

And in it—

Metal.

A gun.

Everything slowed.

And suddenly, the safe world I thought I was stepping back into felt like it was crumbling beneath my feet.

Time fractured.

One second, I was standing behind Bob, my hand in his, breath stuck halfway in my throat.

The next—

That glint of metal.

Bob shifted beside me, starting to turn, confusion flickering across his face—

“No—” I breathed.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t hesitate.

I moved.

I stepped in front of him, my body slamming into his chest as the sound exploded through the room—

The shot ripped through me like fire.

A sound like pressure breaking inside my skull.

Then—

Pain.

Raw. Radiating.

Like a bolt of fire punched straight through my ribs.

I didn’t scream.

I couldn’t.

The world around me turned into static, the blood in my veins roaring like a broken engine. My knees buckled before I even realized I was falling, gravity ripping me backward.

There were voices.

Muffled. Like underwater.

My name. Someone was calling my name.

“Daniella—DANI!”

Bob.

That was Bob’s voice.

Desperate. Terrified.

His arms caught me hard against his chest, the impact jarring through every inch of me. My fingers clawed at his shirt without meaning to—just grasping, needing something solid.

I could feel the blood.

Warm. Thick. Slipping between my fingers.

I stared up at the ceiling lights, and they looked like stars. Distant and blinding and wrong. The scent of burned gunpowder flooded my nose, sharp and metallic, mixing with the warm iron taste rising in the back of my throat.

And somewhere behind it all—

Screaming.

Chairs toppling.

Someone yelling to call security.

The last thing I saw before the darkness pulled me under—

Was Bob’s face above mine, pale and crumpled in horror.

“Stay with me,” he whispered.

“Please, baby. Just stay with me.”

And then—

Silence.

Chapter 16

POV: Daniella

Black.

Then light.

Then pain.

It started small—like a flicker. A candle at the far end of a tunnel. Then it exploded behind my eyes, a tidal wave of agony surging through my ribs. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Air was thick.

Too thick.

Like I was trying to inhale molten glass.

“Dani.”

That voice—Nate.

No. Doctor Martin.

That’s how he sounded now. Controlled, clipped—but shaking at the edges.

I blinked once. Twice. The ceiling above me pulsed and twisted, spinning like a carousel I couldn’t get off of. I turned my head just enough to see the blur of his face leaning over me. Sweat clung to his brow, his hands pressed against my side, red blooming beneath them.

There was so much blood.

“Pressure—keep pressure,” he barked to someone.

“Guin, gauze, now—she’s bleeding through.”

Guinevere? I couldn’t turn far enough to see her, but I felt her presence—quiet, urgent, hands moving fast. She was crying. I could hear it in her breath even though she didn’t make a sound.

“We need a damn ambulance!” Nate shouted, his voice cracking on the word.

“I called! They’re coming!” someone yelled back. A blur in a suit, maybe Matthew. Maybe Ace. I couldn’t tell anymore. The room had gone to watercolor.

My head lolled sideways and I saw Bob. On his knees. His eyes—those beautiful warm eyes—looked hollow now. Shattered. His hand gripped mine like he could anchor me to the world if he just held hard enough.

“Stay with me,” he whispered.

“Please, Dani… I can’t lose you.”

“You hear me? You’re okay. You’re okay, baby.”

I wanted to answer him.

I did.

But my tongue felt like cement. My mouth wouldn’t form the words.

Then Ace appeared in my field of vision, falling to his knees on the other side of me, grabbing my other hand.

He was sobbing.

I’d never seen him cry before.

“I should’ve seen it,” he choked. “I was looking right at her—I should’ve—”

“God, Dani. Don’t leave us.”

His fingers traced my temple, brushing hair from my face.

My body trembled, cold swallowing my limbs. I tried to speak—to say I loved them. That I was okay. That I’d be okay. But all I could manage was a choking sound, blood on my lips.

I felt it now.

The hole in my side.

A searing burn spreading deep and slow, like wildfire licking up dry skin.

Everything around me was chaos.

People screaming.

Chairs overturned.

Security storming in.

And Clara—

Clara was shrieking as they dragged her out. She was barefoot, her dress slipping from one shoulder, hair wild.

“He was mine! He was supposed to be mine!” she wailed, kicking and flailing in the guards’ arms.

“I did this for us, Robert! You don’t see it—but I love you! You were mine!”

Bob didn’t look at her. Not once. His whole world was centered on me.

I smiled.

Or tried to.

It hurt too much.

Sirens.

The high, rising wail of them cracked the air outside, growing louder, closer. The strobing red and blue light poured through the glass.

“They’re here!” someone yelled.

Nate squeezed my hand.

“You’re going to the hospital, okay? You’re going to make it, Dani. You have to.”

The moment I tried to nod, everything went gray again.

Voices garbled. Hands lifted me. The smell of blood and metal and plastic oxygen tubes pressed over my face. Straps across my chest. Movement.

Wheels rolling fast.

Someone shouting vitals.

I caught Bob’s face once more before the doors closed. Eyes wet. Jaw locked.

Fury and fear fighting inside him.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

“I swear. You’re not alone.”

And then—

The world slipped again.

Darkness held me like a weighted blanket. Heavy. Silent.

But something was pulling me back.

A sound first—low and steady. Beeping.

Then warmth.

Fingers curled around mine.

I blinked slowly, the sterile white ceiling above me swimming into focus. My chest felt tight. My side throbbed, a dull pain wrapped in something stronger. Morphine. I knew that feeling from clinic rotations. And the bandages. The dryness in my throat.

I was alive.

“She’s waking up,” someone whispered.

I turned my head. Nate.

His warm brown eyes were rimmed in red. His hand didn’t leave mine, but I saw the tension in his jaw—like he was holding back the full force of panic and relief. His lips parted, releasing a breath I don’t think he realized he’d been holding.

“You’re okay,” he said softly, brushing hair from my face.

I tried to speak. My voice cracked like paper. “Hurts.”

He smiled, just a little. “It should. You got shot, Dani.”

“…Yeah.”

“I remember.”

That moment slammed into me like a car crash. Bob. The gun. Clara’s scream. The shot. The heat.

I flinched.

“Hey, hey—easy.” Now Ace was there, pressing a kiss to my temple. He looked pale and wild-eyed. “You’re safe now. You’re here. She’s gone.”

And then—Bob.

He stood at the foot of the bed, silent. His hands clenched into fists. His whole body shook, as if he was holding himself together with sheer willpower.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice raw.

He stepped closer. Closer. Dropped to his knees beside the bed and leaned in, his forehead brushing my arm.

“You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m okay,” I rasped.

He lifted his face, kissed my fingers, then my wrist. “You took a bullet for me. Dani, that’s not okay.”

But the way he looked at me—God, he loved me. It was written all over him.

The door opened softly behind him. Clicks of polished shoes. A hush.

Bob’s parents stepped in—elegant and composed, but shaken. His mother’s eyes glistened with emotion the second she saw me, and his father nodded solemnly.

“Miss Moore,” his father said gently.

“We saw… what you did.”

“You stepped in front of our son,” his mother whispered. “You didn’t hesitate. You saved his life. You gave your life for his. And we’ll never forget that.”

Their eyes filled with something deeper than just gratitude. Reverence. They weren’t cold today. They weren’t judgmental. They were parents—of a son who almost died, and the woman who stopped it from happening.

I blinked, stunned. Bob’s family, always so distant… they were thanking me.

“She didn’t give her life,” Nate said firmly, standing tall now in his doctor mode. “She survived.”

The quiet power in his voice made me tear up.

“We know Clara’s family well,” Bob’s father added after a pause. “She was… unwell. She’s been in and out of psychiatric care over the past few years. There were episodes. This… crisis at the wedding… Seeing Robert again must have been a trigger.”

“We don’t blame you,” his mother said softly, reaching to touch my hand. “None of this was your fault. If anything… we owe you everything.”

Bob swallowed hard beside me. He hadn’t spoken a word since they entered. But the grip he had on my hand never loosened.

At the door, Charlotte and Guinevere hovered. Charlotte’s arms were crossed tightly, but her face was unreadable. Guinevere looked fragile, like she’d barely breathed in hours.

Their parents quietly stepped out, giving me a look that actually felt like acceptance—for the first time.

“So,” Charlotte finally said, stepping inside, her voice lighter now. “You love my brother, huh?”

“You already knew that,” I whispered.

“Mmm. Sure. But you didn’t have to take a bullet to prove it. I mean, honestly, Dani.”

Guinevere snorted softly. “That’s one way to win over the family.”

I laughed, a weak, breathy thing. “I wasn’t trying to win anything. I just… I saw the gun. And I moved.”

“So,” Charlotte said, raising a brow. “Bob’s in love. Nate’s a mess. And Ace has been threatening nurses all day. You must be something special.”

I smiled faintly. “I’m sorry for the drama.”

“Are you kidding?” Guinevere laughed. “You basically became a legend at this wedding.”

Then her smile faltered just a bit. “Also… sorry for flirting with Nate. I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay,” I murmured. “No harm done.”

Charlotte leaned in, more serious now. “We kind of understand you now.”

My heart stopped. “You do?”

Guinevere gave a little shrug. “Honestly? It’s weird. But… it works. And clearly, they all love you. So…”

“Just don’t throw yourself in front of any more bullets,” Charlotte added.

“It makes the rest of us look bad.”

We laughed, soft and broken. But it felt good. Real.

For a moment, there was no trauma. No blood. No pain. Just warmth. Acceptance.

Family.

Chapter 17

POV: Daniella

Healing wasn’t quiet.

It was noisy with love.

I woke the next morning to the smell of eggs, coffee, and something sweet—like cinnamon. My body ached, my side throbbed under layers of gauze, and I could barely shift without wincing. But the bed was warm, the blankets tucked just right, and before I could sit up—

“Don’t even think about it.”

Nate’s voice came from the doorway, his tone half stern doctor, half overbearing boyfriend. He walked in with that tight-lipped frown he wore when pretending not to worry. Brown eyes sharp, clipboard in hand.

Yes. A clipboard.

“Are you seriously making charts?” I croaked.

He held it up like a trophy. “Pain scale. Vitals. Med schedule. Your healing timeline. You’re officially my most important patient.”

“I better be,” I muttered, smiling through the stiffness.

“She’s awake?” Ace’s voice rang from the kitchen. “Good! She can finally tell me if this soup tastes like actual food or my childhood trauma.”

I heard clattering, a timer go off, and the unmistakable scent of garlic bread join the air.

Bob appeared next. Like magic. Like gravity.

“Good morning,” he whispered, crouching beside the bed. “You in pain?”

“Only when I breathe, move, or laugh.”

He slid his arms around me before I could stop him. Effortless. Solid. His chest against mine, careful of my side, lifting me like I weighed nothing. I squeaked, clutching at him.

“Bob!”

“Walking is canceled for the foreseeable future,” he murmured, carrying me like a princess to the couch already set up with pillows, blankets, and a heating pad. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Nate’s the doctor.”

“And I’m the muscle,” he smirked. “Let me do this.”

I melted into his arms, even as Nate glared at us both and muttered something about “lumbar strain” and “reckless lifting.”

The days blurred in cozy domesticity. I didn’t take a single step unassisted.

Bob carried me everywhere—bedroom, bathroom, couch, patio. If I tried to argue, he’d kiss me until I forgot my name.

Nate kept a whiteboard by the fridge with color-coded reminders: red for painkillers, blue for antibiotics, green for water intake. He checked my temperature like clockwork, adjusted my pillows every two hours, and woke me with forehead kisses and “time for your meds, love.”

Ace? Ace cooked like a man possessed.

Homemade soup. Gourmet eggs. Strawberry pancakes.

And tea. So much tea.

“You can’t recover without soup and sass,” he’d say, feeding me bites like I was royalty.

One afternoon, as rain danced outside the window, I lay curled up on the couch in one of Ace’s hoodies, surrounded by all three of them.

Nate checked my bandages. Bob rubbed circles into my ankle. Ace braided my hair, claiming it helped him focus.

I looked at them—all of them—and felt tears sting my eyes.

“I’d do it again,” I whispered.

They all stilled.

“I’d take the bullet again. For any one of you.”

“Dani,” Bob said, voice low.

“Don’t say that,” Nate added sharply.

“Absolutely not,” Ace muttered. “Nope. Unacceptable. Pick literally anything else to do next time.”

“You’re not our shield,” Nate said. “You’re our heart. And hearts don’t get thrown in front of guns.”

Bob leaned closer, eyes fierce and soft all at once. “We’d take a hundred bullets for you.”

“One per man,” Ace joked, trying to keep it light—but his voice cracked at the edges. “We’ll just rotate.”

I laughed and winced. Nate immediately adjusted my position. Bob kissed my forehead. Ace offered chocolate like it was medicine.

I looked at them—my reckless, loyal, infuriating men.

“You know I love you, right?”

“We know,” they said, in perfect, quiet unison.

Ace nuzzled into my shoulder. Nate pressed his palm against my chest like he needed to feel my heartbeat. Bob buried his face in my hair and just held on.

And I thought—

This is the way they love me.

With hands, and hearts, and everything they are.

And I’ll never let go.

It had been exactly thirty-one days.

Not that I was counting. Not that Ace had drawn a big red X over the calendar square labeled “Cleared for Chaos.” Not that Bob had been quietly going feral every time I moaned in my sleep.

Nate had, of course, insisted on being there when the doctor gave the final approval.

“No strain,” the surgeon said, flipping through my chart. “But yes, she can return to all normal activities, as long as there’s no pain.”

Ace had nearly kissed the man.

Now, back at their apartment, the lights were low. Candles flickered. The air was thick with anticipation and heat and something almost holy. I stood in the middle of the living room watching them watch me.

Bob’s gaze was molten. Ace’s lips parted like he was starving. Nate had his arms crossed, as if trying to appear calm, but his eyes were wild.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?” Nate asked first, stepping toward me, one hand brushing the healing scar at my side over my shirt. His thumb ghosted over it with reverence.

I nodded, breath shaky. “I feel good. I feel ready. I feel… like if one of you doesn’t touch me in the next ten seconds, I might explode.”

Bob was the first to break. He crossed the room in a breath and swept me up, cradling me like always, but this time, he didn’t stop at carrying me to the couch. He took me straight to the bed they’d spent so many nights just holding me in.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he murmured against my throat as he lay me down.

Ace and Nate followed us, surrounding me in the best way. I looked up at them, all of them, my heart swelling, nearly bursting.

“I’d take a bullet for any of you,” I said quietly. “Without thinking.”

“Don’t,” Nate said firmly, kneeling beside me, fingers sliding along my jaw. “You’re reckless and noble. And fucking insane. Just live. That’s enough. You being here is enough.”

Ace pressed a kiss to my knee, trailing soft touches up my thigh. “You scared the hell out of us, Moore. You owe us something for that.”

“What exactly?” I teased, my smile tilting up at the corners.

He grinned, eyes dark with desire. “Let us love you. All of you. No holding back.”

Their hands were on me then—soft, exploratory. The kind of touch that wasn’t just about need but reverence. Months of withheld longing melted in the heat of their fingers. My skin was hypersensitive, like it had waited too long.

Because it had.

Nate started peeling off my clothes—first my shirt, then my skirt. Bob followed with my bra, and Nate took my panties. There was no rush, no desperation, only awe.

Nate kissed me first, his mouth reverent and slow, open-mouthed heat descending from my jaw to my neck, to my collarbone. He left a trail of fire wherever his lips met skin, worshipping me like I was sacred.

This month without sex, just cuddling and whispered confessions and soft laughter—it had made this moment sacred. We began with lust, but now… now it was love. And I felt it in every kiss, every touch, every breath.

Nate’s lips closed around my nipple, and I arched into him, pleasure curling tight in my belly. He suckled gently, then moved to the other, and my body throbbed for more. When his fingers brushed my scar, he paused.

He kissed it.

My chest trembled, and then he went lower. He opened my legs gently and settled between them, trembling with restraint. When he licked me—his mouth hot and wet on my clit—I cried out, body arching.

Bob held me down, his arms wrapped around mine, stroking my skin with the softest fingers.

“Oh, beautiful,” Bob whispered at my temple. “I could live on the sound of you moaning for us.”

Nate kept circling my clit with his tongue, sending pulses of electric pleasure through me. My hips bucked, my body shook. Nate slipped a finger inside me, and I gasped.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, trembling.

He curled it just right. My hands tangled in his hair. It built up until I couldn’t take it anymore. I came hard, loud, convulsing, and they held me through it.

Nate licked every drop of me before kissing up my body and whispering, “Exactly like that.”

They were already undressing. Ace came to me first, positioning himself between my legs, his hands on my wrists, my ankles over his shoulders.

He slid in slowly, filling me perfectly.

“God, I missed this so much,” he groaned. “You feel like fucking heaven.”

I moaned, clenching around him. Bob kissed me, deep and slow, while Nate teased my nipples with his fingers and mouth.

Then Bob’s hand slid down, circling my clit while Ace thrust in and out of me. Their rhythm was perfection, a symphony made of love and need and months of waiting.

“I don’t know if I can take it,” I panted, breathless. “I’m gonna come.”

“Come with me,” Ace rasped, hips snapping harder.

I came with a scream, my whole body tensing, pleasure exploding in waves. Ace groaned, bucking hard as he spilled inside me, then collapsed at my side, breath ragged.

Bob slid closer. Nate moved behind me, palm skimming over my ass.

“May I, baby girl?” Nate murmured.

I looked over my shoulder at him, eyes soft. “Yes, please.”

He eased into me from behind, slow and deep. I gasped and arched. Bob positioned himself in front of me and slid into me again.

We found a rhythm. Nate’s hand found my clit while Bob kissed my lips, Nate my shoulder. I felt them everywhere. In me. Around me. Loving me.

The pressure built again.

And when I came, we came together—loud, desperate, overwhelmed. Over and over, more times than I could count. A month of longing poured out in touch and sweat and moans and devotion.

When we finally collapsed, tangled and breathless, I laughed softly, blissed out, and filled in every way.

“I love you,” I whispered.

And in perfect, beautiful unison, they answered:

“I love you too.”

And that’s The way they love me.