I pour us all another round. “Get drunk tonight. Tomorrow, the real work starts.”

Doc drains his grappa. “January Whitehall.”

Basher’s face falls. Even Adriano looks up from his ramen. Trust Doc to mention the elephant in the room in the most disruptive way possible.

“What about her?” I ask.

“I want her. On her back. On her knees. On my face. The fucking works.” He looks around the table. “This is me staking a claim and you bastards better respect it.”

“That’s going to be a problem,” I say lightly. “Because I want her.”

Doc’s eyes narrow. “You said the rest of us could have her.”

“True. But now I’ve seen her, my opinion has changed.”

Adriano returns to eating like nothing has happened, but Bobby looks like he’s about to be sick. Velvet House doesn’t have a traditional family structure. The rules are the ones we made ourselves. But I am the boss and my brothers know it. Which means if I want Miss Whitehall, she’s mine.

Doc lets out a long sigh. “Fine. We can share her.”

“You don’t share. You can barely let other people choose music in the car—”

“That’s not—”

“Besides,” I say loudly. “I want Miss Whitehall as my mistress, which means she’ll have official standing in my household. She won’t be passed around Velvet House like a whore.”

“A mistress?” Bobby asks. “But you’re not married.”

“Not yet, but once this Parker business is done, I’ll get engaged.”

Doc laughs. “To that watch guy’s daughter? You said she smelled like asparagus.”

I press my fingertips into my temples. It is a miracle I have not killed this man. Of all the benefits of getting married, not being in daily proximity to Doc is top of the list. Smart as he is, perceptive as he can be, he’s an utter lunatic. Without Adriano’s protection and my money, he’d have been in Bayview Correctional years ago.

“It doesn’t matter who I marry. The point is I’ll be married by the summer. Keep your calendars clear.”

“So what?” Doc asks. “You get married and kick us all out of the house?”

“What do you think our future holds? My wife and children eating dinner with us every night? The four of us living in a frat house forever?”

“You could not get married.”

“I’m almost thirty-four. I need heirs.”

Doc rocks back in his chair. “So where will January be while you’re out shopping for a wife?”

“My mistress will not be your plaything while I’m away. I’ll send her somewhere else.”

“Seems like a waste of pussy,” Doc mutters. He clears his throat. “I have a better idea. She should come work at Dreams.”

Bobby chokes on his noodles. “As a stripper?”

“No, as a fucking bouncer. Of course, as a stripper.”

“What’s your justification for that?”

Doc shrugs. “She’s hot. We can make money off her. And she’s had all those dance lessons. Plus, how’s Parker gonna feel when we send him vids of her working a pole?”