Royal Mess (Devil's Knights 2nd Generation 3)

Murphy shook his head. “Can’t go against the vote, boss.”

“She’ll listen to you, Marco,” Apollo reasoned. “She knows you are the boss.”

“Would you idiots stop calling me boss? I don’t fucking like it,” I growled. It seemed like the humor from the Devil’s Knights had rubbed off on my men.

The loud sound of laughter carried down the stairs.

“Maybe we won’t have to go upstairs. It sounds like the women are headed this way.” Princeton stepped into the hallway and looked in the direction of the stairs. “Good evening, ladies,” he called.

“Princeton,” Greer called. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Almost as good as me seeing the chef and knowing she’s off to cook us dinner,” Princeton replied.

I turned in my chair toward the door. Greer moved in front of Princeton and slugged him on the shoulder. “I see you’re still a smartass and don’t know how to cook for yourself,” she replied.

“Should we really have to cook for ourselves when I’m paying someone to do it for us?” I took a sip of my scotch.

“You really are a grump,” Greer frowned. “Here I thought maybe Royal had made it up.”

Someone scoffed behind Greer. I had to assume it was Royal.

“It’s not made up,” Royal called.

“I’ll just get in the kitchen and start dinner,” Bristol called. “How does veal cutlets sound?”

“Whatever you make is going to taste amazing,” Greer replied. “Though I won’t complain a second if you make your special garlic bread with it.”

“Coming right up,” Bristol called.

At least we had figured out what we were going to do for dinner. Though it was going to be a late dinner.

“I have a plate of crackers and cheese I can put out while dinner cooks,” Bristol called.

“And that is why you still have a job,” I called. “You think of everything, Bristol.” It was like she had known she was going to spend all afternoon hanging out with Greer and Royal.

“Thank you, Mr. Banachi,” she laughed.

“Come on, boys,” Greer called. “I know you’re all starving. Let’s have some wine with those cheese and crackers.”

Apollo moved to his wife and draped his arms over her shoulder. “Sounds like a good idea to me, babe.”

They moved down the hallway with Princeton and Murphy behind them.

Royal waddled behind with her hand on her stomach.

I jumped up from my chair and called her name.

“No,” she drawled.

I caught up with her and gently grabbed her arm. “I don’t want anything from you, Royal. I just want to make sure you are okay.”

She stopped, looked down at my arm, and then back up at me. “I’m not. Let me go.”

“I’m not letting you go when you tell me you’re not okay.”

“Then stop asking me if I’m okay. I’m not going to lie about it.” She tried to jerk her arm free from my hold but I didn’t let her go.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad at me, Royal.” Most of the time, I knew what was going on and didn’t need anything explained to me.