South's BMW pulled up to a towering estate built entirely out of veined white marble. Water bubbled in a Victorian-style fountain of oxidized copper while gilded gates lined the front garden.

Despite the grandeur, this place felt cold and impersonal.

I knew the Tenney's were a part of Newport's elite—Easton's wedding was at Gotham Hall—but the level of wealth South grew up with hadn't really sunk in. Not until this very moment.

His hand was still on my thigh as we rolled to a stop inside a garage the size of my family's quaint downtown home. There were seven cars parked inside—seven.

My father might be an admiral, and my mom might be a well-respected research oncologist, but we weren't this kind of Newport rich. Not even close.

"Did you know dad was gonna be home?" West groaned from the back seat. South's hand tensed on my thigh.

"I didn't."

"Give me the keys," West demanded. "I'll drive myself back to the apartment. Text me when you're ready to leave, and I'll pick you two up. If I'm here, dad will turn the evening into a nightmare."

A nightmare?

South shook his head. "Don't do that to ma. She's expecting you, so stay. I got your back, remember?"

A measure of warmth passed between the two, and I swore I saw the moment West realized he could trust his brother. It reminded me so much of Lydie and me.

"Fine," West huffed. Folding his arms across his chest. "But if Raske is here, I'm out. I'm not going to eat with her, not in front of ma."

"Deal. If Raske is here, we leave. I'll send ma flowers or something."

I gave South a curious look, and his mouth tightened. "Just some stupid family drama. Don't worry."

West made an annoyed sound from the back seat.

Family drama?

Jack Dougherty's appearance was starting to make even more sense, and my desire to help him figure out exactly what was going only grew.

I bit my lip. Should I tell South about the private investigator?

I thought that I should, but not right now. It would only add to the tension between the family.

"If this is too weird, just say so."

I gave South a guarded smile before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his stubbly cheek. "I'm a PR person. I'm pretty good at dealing with weird."

And being fake. I tried to tamp down Lianna's voice but wasn't entirely successful.

But, South's look brightened, and he opened his car door and slid out. "I swear, Camilla, you are a fucking angel."

The smile that formed on my face spread warmth into every corner of my body. He was an absolutely beautiful man, and he thought I was an angel.

All I wanted to do was kiss him under the light of a million twinkling stars while listening to the sounds of the ocean.

You are probably the fakest person I've ever met.

I struggled to keep the grin on my face, unsure why this was bothering me so much. Without thought, I reached inside my purse and pulled out Stella's vial of lavender oil, and dabbed some on my wrists.

West drew in a deep breath and leaned forward in his seat. "Where did you get that from? That oil?"

"Oh," I said with surprise as I eased out of the car, West mirroring my movements. "I got it from this girl Stella. She's not a member of the club, but she's dating—"

"Spencer Fredericksen." West closed my door for me, and I found my own voice lodged in my throat. He looked so sad, so... miserable.

If Stella knew about the Tenney's, I had a feeling it had something to do with West.

"Do you know her well?"

"Yeah," West said wistfully. "I know her."

South's arm went around my shoulders. "But, we don't talk about Stella. Not unless you wanna see West turn into Romeo and listen to him ramble about soul mates and feeling understood."

West let out a dark chuckle. "Look who's talking." West flicked a look over South and I, and heat pulsed in my cheeks. "You're the one planning—"

"Shut up, bro." South punched his brother in the arm before opening a door that led into the house.

"Planning what?" I asked, letting my gaze wander down the long hallway in front of us. Polished marble floors, deep mahogany paneling, and gold leaf accents decorated every inch of the home.

I leaned into South, gripping his bicep as we walked past priceless paintings and ornate vases that must have been hundreds of years old.

I couldn't imagine this museum of a house filled with three rowdy young boys.

"It's a surprise," South said before eyeing West. "Or it was supposed to be."

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and I was more than a little shocked when Connor appeared. His white-blonde hair had been neatly trimmed, and he looked sharp in his summer whites.

He seemed just as surprised to see me on South's arm as I was to see him at the Tenney's, and I suddenly wondered if my dad was around.

"Fitzpatrick," South rasped. His arm snaking protectively around my waist. "What are you doing here?"

Connor shifted nervously, then said, "I'm Admiral Tenney's new flag aid. For the time being." He gave me a half-smile. "Your dad loaned me out to Admiral Tenney until a replacement can be found for Lieutenant Raske."

West made another disgusted noise, and South did too.

I smiled back at Connor. "Well, I hope he finds somebody soon. I'm sure dad's missing you already. We were just getting used to seeing your face around the house."

"Me too. But, hey, look on the bright side. Your dresses will be safer without me around." Connor flushed bright red. "You look really nice, by the way."

"She does look nice," South interjected before I could say thank you. Then he guided me carefully past Connor. Glaring at him the entire time.

As we walked together down the long hallway, West padding silent beside us, I could feel the tension and annoyance coming off both men. And, I was also wondering why South seemed so mad at Connor.

The hallway opened into a huge formal parlor, decked with ornate furniture and tables with decanters of wine and crystal bottles of amber-colored spirits. I felt like I'd just slipped inside an episode of Downton Abbey.

Ji Woo stood resolutely beside an ancient-looking woman—who must have been her mother—resting on a chaise lounge. Shiny black hair pinned neatly in a twist. A gown of sequins clinging to her thin frame. The older woman resting on the chaise eyed me suspiciously.

The two could have been plucked from an old movie and dropped in the middle of this incredibly decadent sitting room.

"An-nyeong-ha-se-yo," South said in a tone I almost didn't recognize, stopping before his mother and grandmother and giving a little bow.

West repeated what his brother did, and I was at a loss of what to do. Did I bow? Did I wait? His mother and grandmother started talking in Korean, and South and West were nodding along, chuckling and smiling like two boys.

I waited nervously for South to introduce me to the two women, holding my clutch and trying not to fidget.

"Oe-hal-meo-ni, ma, this is my girlfriend," South said, setting his hand between my shoulder blades. "Camilla Isley."

"It's good to meet you," I said to his grandma, who didn't respond. I tried not to internally cringe at my clunky greeting—I had no idea if I was being disrespectful or not. Then I turned my smile on Ji Woo. "It's good to see you again, Ji Woo. Thanks for inviting me over for dinner."

She nodded. "We're glad to have you here. You seem to make my son very happy, and that makes me happy."

I couldn't contain my grin, and when I looked up at South, some of the awkwardness disappeared. Pretty hazel eyes stared back at me, along with his bright smile.

"She does make me really happy."

We turned back to his mother, who wasn't quite smiling, but she looked pleased.

"You boys are late." snapped a harsh voice from off to my right. The grin slipped from everyone's face. "Dinner is already on the table. And where is Fitzpatrick?"

"Here, sir!" Connor came rushing up, face bright red and nearly tripping over his shoes.

The admiral's lip curled. "Did you email the updated family schedule out to everyone?"

"Not yet, sir."

"We'll get it done, boy! I sent you the approved calendar fifteen minutes ago!" Connor darted off, and the admiral sauntered over to where we stood.

He was dressed in a well-tailored suit—black tie and white shirt, just like his sons. He looked so much like South it was shocking, except, his father carried none of South's warmth or easy charm.

His gaze wandered from my eyes down to my toes, and I felt more naked than standing on the boat with South. "Your father clearly has low expectations for his aides. That one is a bumbling mess! No hope of ever captaining a submarine, that one."

Again, I didn't know how to respond. This wasn't how I was used to men greeting me.

Les Tenney's attention slid to South. He took a sip out of a sweating glass of whiskey and narrowed his eyes. "Shopping for women at the Yacht Club again, son?"

South held me closer, and I'd realized I'd stopped breathing altogether. This man was unbelievable.

"I'm only joking, son. Settle down. In fact, I'm glad you found a respectable woman of good stock to bring home. It's more than your brother can say."

I almost gasped.

South released his hold on me and took a step closer to his father. "Drop it, or we leave."

His father studied South with menacing eyes before taking another sip of his drink. "Threats before dinner? Is that how you pay me back for all I've done for you?"

Ji Woo stepped in between the two, setting a delicate hand on her husband's chest. "Dinner will get cold. Let's move into the dining room."

I watched South swallow down his next comment, his hand returning to my waist.

It had gotten so quiet I swore everyone could hear the sound of my heart as it thudded in my chest. West looked dangerously upset, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"Boys," Ji Woo said softly as she guided her husband out of the parlor. "It's time to take our seats."

South mouthed, "I'm sorry," to me, before brushing back a strand of my hair. I leaned into his touch and forced another smile. Wondering what was going to happen next.

A/N

This man 😡 he is the absolute worst! I'm sorry to say things don't get better at dinner.

xx
AJ