Did you try buying her something?

She’s not into money.

Christ, how did you find the one girl in NYC who isn’t into your wallet?

That’s besides the point. She’s not happy. She’s trying to be, but I don’t think she trusts me. He thought for a moment, then texted, She left before because she thought I was hiding her because I was embarrassed.

And were you?

Originally? Yes.

Ouch, man.

Piss off. Again. Maybe it had been a bad call to go to Jonathan for advice. But hell, he was desperate. You know I’m not good with this emotion stuff.

Okay, okay. Are you still hiding her?

Of course not. She moved in. Kip thinks she’s very nice.

No one gives a shit what your assistant thinks. I meant, did you introduce her to everyone? Make her feel welcome?

Oh. He hadn’t even thought about it. You mean like Gretchen and Audrey and the others? She asked about my tattoo.

It was a long moment before Jonathan responded. Look, man, I’m not going to tell you not to tell her about the Brotherhood. I could try, but if you’re thinking with your dick like everyone else, I know it’s a lost cause. So you do what you feel is right. I trust you. We all do, or you wouldn’t be in the Brotherhood.

Griffin didn’t know what to say. I . . . see.

And one more thing.

What’s that?

If you’re in love—I mean really, really in love—you gotta move heaven and earth to show her that you love her. Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose her. And then life isn’t worth living. Take it from me, all right?

Griffin frowned at the screen. Jonathan kept himself remote from everyone, even his Brothers. To hear that confession made Griffin wonder what he was hiding. What does that mean? Is that some shoddy clue about a broken heart?

Tell you some other time. Right now, I have a plane to catch.

Later.

He clicked off his phone and thought for a long time. Did Maylee think that he wasn’t taking her seriously? Was it time to do more? Be more demonstrative? He made love to her every night. Told her he loved her several times a day. They went for long walks in Central Park together, holding hands and walking the dog. He’d even let her bring her foul beast to New York City into his book-strewn townhouse. If that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was.

But maybe she needed bigger gestures. Something that she couldn’t dispute in the slightest.

Griffin thought for a moment more, and then texted Reese. Is Audrey there?

Why are you texting me and asking for my wife? Get your own woman.

Irritated, Griffin gritted his teeth and sent back, I have one. I want to throw a party for her and don’t know where to begin. I thought Audrey might know. Reese’s wife could organize just about anything.

Oh. Fuck, man. I am out of any party discussions. I’ll go, but you’ve got the wrong guy when it comes to planning.

Hence why I asked for your wife.

Hang on. A moment later, Reese texted, Here’s Audrey’s number. Call her.

Griffin did, and an efficient voice answered the phone. “Hello?” Audrey Petty was no nonsense and practical, which was why it still surprised Griffin that she’d ended up with someone as volatile as Reese.

“It’s Griffin. Maylee’s moved in with me and I want to throw her a welcoming party.”

“You do?” Her voice warmed a few degrees. “That’s very sweet, Griffin. You want help organizing it?”

“Yes. Please. I don’t even know where to begin.”

She laughed. “All right, well, we’ll start with the location. Where did you have in mind?”

He thought for a moment. He needed something showy, to demonstrate just how much he cared. “What place can you think of that is preposterously ostentatious?”

“Hunter’s house?”

Hmm. “Perfect.” He thought for a moment more and then added, “Do you know someone from the news media?”

“Uh, I’m sure I can locate someone. Are we having a newsworthy event?”

“Depends on if you’re from Bellissime, I suppose.”

“Oookay. You going to tell me more?”

“Just trust me.”

* * *

“Where are we going?” Maylee asked, craning her neck so she could see out the window. “And who do all these gardens belong to?”

“It’s a surprise,” he told her.

She gave him a wary look and a nervous smile. “I’m not sure I like surprises.” Her hand smoothed down her pale yellow boatneck sweater, and she fingered the jeans she was wearing, as if silently wondering if she was wearing the right clothing.

“You’re fine,” he soothed. Since she looked so worried, he added, “We’re visiting Hunter’s estate.”

“Oh.” She gave him another quick smile and then looked out the window once more. “I’ve never seen his house, but Gretchen says it’s ridiculous.”

“It is,” Griffin agreed. “It’s bigger than the royal palace in Bellissime.”

“Lordamercy,” Maylee breathed as it came into sight. “That is some house.”

It was, Griffin had to agree. He knew it was an ancestral home for Hunter, but it reminded Griffin too much of the staid, remote palaces of his own childhood and he hated the place. It didn’t feel like a house nearly as much as his townhouse did. A place like this required constant upkeep, and Griffin was more interested in traveling to different archaeological sites than nursing a ramshackle mansion back to health.

But, to each their own.

Maylee clung to his hand when they pulled into the driveway. He nodded at Kip and gestured for him to park the car. Then, Griffin exited the car and held out his hand for Maylee to take.

She did, and they went up the expanse of stairs hand in hand.

When they got to the door, it opened and a beaming Gretchen greeted them. “Hey you two! Come on in. We just popped the champagne.”

“Oh? What are we celebrating?” Maylee asked, but her hand still clung tightly to Griffin’s and she didn’t follow Gretchen in.

“Nothing, yet.” She gave Griffin an exaggerated wink that made him want to strangle her, and then headed further into the house. “Come on. We’re hanging out in the Red Dining Room.”

They followed her through the maze of the house, Maylee exclaiming under her breath at the size of the place. He knew Buchanan Manor was intimidating, but now he was questioning the wisdom of this place for Maylee’s party. He wanted her to feel warmed and welcomed, not more isolated and out of place than ever.

So he squeezed her hand.

She looked at him, surprised, and then gave him a grateful smile and squeezed his hand back.

In the Red Dining Room, there was a small cluster of people standing around. He immediately felt Maylee stiffen, but he put his arm around her shoulders and gently steered her in. “Maylee,” he told her. “I want you to meet my friends.”

And he introduced her to Reese and Audrey, and Logan and Brontë. Both women were welcoming to Maylee, though they shot him curious looks from time to time. Maylee exclaimed over them in her soft, adorable accent, and he knew this party had been a good idea.

It was so obvious now. Introducing her to his friends seemed like the most reasonable thing in the world. Showing her that she belonged with him was such a small thing, but he could see from the glow on her cheeks that she was happy.

He should have thought of it sooner, rather than see her mope for a week.

She knew Hunter and Gretchen, of course, and he introduced her to Cade Archer, a good friend and the only man at the party flying solo. Cade never seemed to mind, though.

“Jonathan not here?” he asked him, but he already knew the answer. Jonathan had run off on business, something to take care of. Lately, his friend had been absent more and more.

Cade only shrugged as if to say, what can you do?

Once Maylee had met everyone, he grabbed them both glasses of champagne and pressed one into her hand. She took it from him, smiling but puzzled. “This looks like a party.”

“It is.”

“What are we celebrating?”

He looked at the people in the room, then back at Maylee. “I have something I want to tell you.”

Her eyes widened and he saw the uncertainty flash across her face again, though she did her best to hide it. “Oh?”

Griffin soldiered on. “You asked about my tattoo—”

Reese interrupted with a groan. “Oh, here we go. Worst kept secret ever.”

Audrey shushed him.

Griffin shot a scathing look at Reese, and then turned back to Maylee. He took a swig of his champagne, then set the glass down. He took her hand in his and noticed it was trembling. “Maylee, I am going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone else.” He paused, then exhaled slowly. “I’m . . . in a secret society. All of us are.”

Her brows wrinkled together. “Um, okay.”

He waited.

“Is that all?”

“It’s very secret,” he stressed. “It could ruin us financially if it got out. Six billionaires working together would mean we’d be investigated by every tax auditor in this country.”

“Okay,” she said, still giving him a puzzled look. “I won’t tell anyone. I thought this was something bad. As long as you guys don’t sacrifice kittens, I think I can handle it.”