“Because I fucking told you not to?” Wicked growls from beneath his—whoever she is.

I drag my eyes to where they are, keeping the grin. “Aw, and how very un-Ruby Rose of me to not go against your orders.” I stub out my cigarette. “I read the note. Victor, it’s out. They know about me and what I did. She needs to marry Mikhail.” I wave my hand in the air, smiling at Khaos who slides a glass of vodka over to me.

Papa’s eyes shoot to Wicked before resting back on me. “I know you can, Bubba. But this is something else. It’s someone in-house.”

“I’m waiting!”

“Ruby!” Wicked barks and I flinch, my eyes flying over Papa’s shoulder and landing on him and his lap dog. “Give your old man a fucking minute, yeah?” My mouth closes and then opens.

“First of all!” I keep my eyes on Wicked even though it burns to do so. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore, Wicked. You gave up that right years ago.”

His cheeks spread into a wide smile, flashing his white teeth and perfect dimples. I didn’t notice when I first saw him, but he has a tattoo on the side of his neck and that nose ring is still there. I’m annoyed at how much it all suits him. Instantly annoyed. Fuck. “That’s funny. That’s real fucking funny.” He buries his head into the crook of the girl’s neck, biting down on her skin.

I catch Jade’s eyes, which go from the girl, to me, to Wicked a few times, before coming back to me. Between the underlying silent conversation we both share, I can see it in the back of her mind, the wheels spinning.

“Oh my fucking God!” a little voice squeals from behind, and Wicked flies up so fast from his chair the blonde bitch stumbles to the ground. I’d laugh if I didn’t recognize the girl’s voice instantly.

I stand from the stool and pause when I see Poppy standing at the bottom of the stairs. Her hair is long and blonde, her eyes wide with shock. She looks the same. “Pop?”

She smiles so wide that my heart expands with it and I crash down the stairs, shoving Val out of the way. My arms fly around her neck. I squeeze her so tight—tight enough to make sure this isn’t a dream. She can’t run away. Papa, I’m mad at. Too mad to enjoy him being home.

“Where have you been?” I smack her arm but hook mine in hers and drag her up the stairs. “We are having a drink right after I finish God’s work.”

“That’s funny. They sent the devil to do God’s work?” Wicked snickers before dragging his eyes off me and onto Poppy. “I told you to stay at the house.”