It opened, and Dimitri entered, closing it quietly after himself. His averted gaze told me something was wrong. “What?” I barked and quickly glanced down to West. He stirred a little. Glaring over at my friend, I rested a finger to my lips. Dimitri nodded and shifted closer.

“Your parents are here.”

I clenched my jaw. “Why?” I demanded in a harsh but quiet tone.

“Once I told them, they wanted to be here for you and West.” He winced.

I whispered in a hissed low voice, “I do not need them—”

“Adrik,” Dimitri clipped quietly. He took a step closer. “You know how convincing your father is, but most of all, your mother. She cried, Adrik. Cried once I told her what happened to West.”

Fuck.

I should have anticipated it. My mother had the biggest heart out of anyone in the family. It was how father had softened, somewhat, over the years.

Another soft knock sounded. I lifted my chin toward the door, and Dimitri stepped back to open it. Lucas walked in, his hands in front of him rubbing together in nervousness.

“So… um… you might want to get out there. The brothers haven’t taken too kindly to having the Russian mafia boss in the house.”

“Fuck me,” I cursed and glanced down to West.

“I’ll stay with West, of course,” Lucas said.

“I am sorry for this,” I told Lucas as I stood.

“You can’t help who your parents are.” He smiled. “Wait until you meet mine. They’re a bit overbearing.” He winced. “But probably nothing like what a mob boss is… or what West’s were like… and I’ll shut up now.” West and Lucas were similar in some ways with talking when nervous. I could tell why Wreck was taken with him.

“I will not take long.”

“Okay.”

With Dimitri at my back, I walked through the house until I rounded the corner to the living room. There I stopped and took in the situation. My parents sat on the couch. Papa had his arm around Mama’s shoulders as they leaned back into the seat. Papa was smirking at the men who stood around the room with their arms crossed, watching them.

Kylo was the only person who didn’t seem concerned that my parents were here. He walked into the room with a tray of drinks and set them on the coffee table. He was handing one to my father when he noticed me.

“Here he is.” He offered a tired smile.

“Adrik,” Mama called. She stood and strode to me. I brought her into my arms for an embrace. “I’m so sorry for West.”

I ran a hand up and down her back. “I know, Mama.”

Papa stood, and everyone tensed. Their reaction did not surprise me. My father was well known. The stories of him killing men in seconds had spread over the world.

“Adrik, is there anything we can do?” Papa asked.