Surprises, Sushi, and Security

ZACH

I’ve just picked up a variety of sushi from the place three blocks from the hotel, our favorite dishes in tow. Suddenly, I decide to elevate this from a simple takeout dinner. The girls will be tucked in bed by the time I return, so I decide to snag a nice rosé from the liquor store a few doors down.

I manage to find a lovely bouquet for Violet, a four-pack of Callum’s preferred ciders, and a mouthwatering chocolate pudding big enough for all four of us. That’s Tyler’s favorite.

So, I’ve got something for everyone.

I whip out my phone, dialing Catherine’s number, wedging the phone between my cheek and shoulder. As I wait for her to answer, I load all my purchases into the trunk of my car.

“Hello, dear.”

“Great, don’t worry about dinner. I’ve decided tonight’s going to be date night.” She’s silent for a moment but eventually agrees. The sound of her voice tells me she’s smiling, likely bustling around doing household chores while Dante is at work.

“I think that would be a wonderful idea. Just what you all needed.” I can’t help but smirk at myself for getting something right. I say goodbye to Catherine, but not before instructing her to stay out of sight for the night.

The drive home isn’t too bad, really.

There’s light traffic that slows my usual speedy return, but I’ve had a good day, even though I barely got to say hello to Callum before I left. At least I was awake when he got home.

I crank up the music to drown out the road noise as I speed home.

The club’s income has been good for us, so good that I decided to use some of it to have the private road paved with asphalt next week.

It’s been a long time coming. We’ve lived in our house for nearly four months now, and my car has needed more washes than in the last two years of its life.

I’m thinking it might be time to trade it in. There’s a new model that I’ve been eyeing. And I have no reason not to splurge, especially not when our businesses, including Callum’s new venture, are bringing in money faster than we can spend it, aside from setting up trust funds for the girls, of course.

So, the seventeen miles of dirt road leading to the nine private houses on our street will soon be a road worthy of a new set of wheels. I won’t need the bi-daily car washes, meaning I can put that money toward the extra fuel cost of a bigger and better engine.

Maybe I’ll go wild and get a fiery color, or have the car wrapped instead of the solid black I’ve chosen the last three times.

I’m turning onto the dirt road sooner than I expected, probably because I’m distracted.

“Goodbye,” I say to the dirt that has been the bane of my existence for most of my life. Memories surface as I drive along it. The days I used to have to walk the whole eleven miles from where the school bus dropped us off back to my mother’s house. The times when rain would leave my little Mazda, my first car, covered in mud when I was a teenager.

Back then, I had to wash the car by hand to keep it clean, something I’m grateful I haven’t had to do since earning a decent wage, especially in this last month.

Can you imagine washing your own car every two days, only to have to dry it and wax the paintwork to prevent chips or scratches to the expensive paint job?

The thought sends chills down my spine. Next Wednesday can’t come soon enough.

I’ll have to make sure Catherine sends a note to everyone living along the road, so they know it will be closed in the evening when they lay the road.

I thought that would be the best time, most people work during the day. So, night work it was, so it can set overnight and be ready for the Thursday morning work rush.

I pull into the driveway just then, and the large iron gates, clad in wood, loom ahead of me. The wood disguises the fact that the gate and the surrounding fences, which are also clad the same way, are made of the strongest bulletproof steel plates.

I enter the code and wait for the gates to open.

Our entire property, including the land at the back of the house, is now enclosed by an eight-foot steel-plated wooden fence topped with an electric wire, ready for anyone foolish enough to try to climb over.

That, and the fact we have live-in guards responsible for the property’s security, including the panic room that’s big enough to be considered a small one-bedroom, one-bath apartment in the outbuilding, means that my girls, including Tilly, are well protected.

Tyler, Callum, and I are also safe while we’re on the property. Cameras are scattered throughout the land, all buildings, and even the dirt road in both directions.

I’ve spared no expense for the safety of my family, and it helps ease the anxiety that’s been with me since the whole London incident.

It was actually Carmen’s idea.

I just ran with it and expanded it until there wasn’t another thing I could add to ensure no one’s getting onto our property without our knowledge. We even have four backup generators scattered around just in case one of them fails.

I will never be the reason Violet goes through that again. And I will never allow Callum or Tyler to fall victim to that man. Or anyone else who means something to me, for that matter.

This is my little slice of safe haven, one of the only places where I truly feel safe and at home.

Our home.

I hop out of the car, nodding to Arnold, who is walking around with the young recruit. Ryan, I think his name is. He lives here on the property in one of the apartments. He has no family, but that’s not a problem.

We are his family now.

They both nod curtly toward me as I gather dinner, the wine, the pudding, and the bouquet of flowers out of my car.

“I’ll get that,” Arnold offers, seeing me struggle to shut the trunk. Not that I couldn’t have used my foot, but I’d prefer him to close it with his hands.

“Thanks.” I almost sing as I rush toward the house where the door is already propped open for me. No doubt Catherine’s doing.

I find Violet playing the piano in the living room. The sweet melody echoes through the hallway, taking my breath away.

She looks stunning, sitting there at Tyler’s piano in an emerald-green sundress that stops halfway up her thighs. I poke my head in, asking her to follow.

“Come to the kitchen, baby?” I ask, leaving almost immediately. Her playing stops and I hear her following me. The soft slap of her bare feet on the tile.

Callum and Tyler are already sitting at the island, both engrossed in their laptops. It’s almost seven p.m. Way too late to be working.

I set the bouquet down first, then the food and bag of wine and pudding on the side.

I close both of their laptops, carefully, of course, but with enough force to startle them. They hadn’t even realized I had joined them.

“It’s date night. No work until tomorrow,” I announce with a smile, one of those smiles that leaves two dimples that usually have Violet melting in front of me.

“Date night’s not until next Friday?” she calls from behind me, amused. I can tell. She likes it when I come home in a good mood. I can’t blame her. I have some mind-blowing sex planned for later.

“Well, I moved it to today. I have food, wine, dessert, and this somewhat pathetic but also beautiful bouquet for you,” I say, handing her the flowers.

I watch her inhale the scent they give off, something she does every time I buy her flowers. She smells them like they emit the most wonderful fragrance nature can provide.

“You’re in a great mood,” she observes, and I can’t deny it, so instead I pull her in for a kiss.

A wet, sloppy French kiss that has my cock burning hot and hard as a rock.

She steps away after taking a vase from the cupboard under the sink, filling it with water before arranging the flowers to her liking.

“I can tell the three of you didn’t waste any time getting the party started.” I smirk at Callum and Tyler. I can smell them both on her.

The faint scent of Tyler’s cum near her breasts and neck. And Callum’s masculine cologne is clinging to her. Neither one responds, but they share a knowing look.

Must have been good…I’ll have to make tonight even better then.

“Sushi,” I announce, grabbing four small plates, some of our reusable chopsticks, and a fork for Violet. She still can’t use a pair of chopsticks.

We’re all sitting around the table, enjoying our sushi in peaceful silence. That is, until the entire security team from Sense barges in, with Catherine trying to hold them back.

She’s livid, and so am I.

I watch as they carry in armfuls of flowers, boxes of chocolates, and a bag from a patisserie that’s likely filled with cakes. There are also envelopes and wicker baskets filled with things like jams and scones.

“What the hell is this?” I demand, causing every one of them to freeze in the open hallway. I glare at them, my gaze sharp enough to kill.

Are they seriously trying to outdo me on my own date night?

And it was going so well.

Callum smirks at the group before popping some salmon into his mouth. Tyler blushes, looking back down at his food before clearing his throat and taking a sip of water. Violet gives them a soft look.

“We’ve come to apologize for our, uh, earlier behavior,” says the tall, tattooed one who recently went to Europe with Callum.

“Oh, and what exactly is this grand apology for?” I ask.

Even Violet is smirking now.

Carter and Carson come barreling down the hallway, pushing their way to the front. Their heavy footsteps echo in unison.

“Oh, sushi, can we join?” they ask, walking to the front of the crowd without a care in the world that I’m furious.

They’ve done something, all of them.

The twins hand Violet two identical flower bears made of roses—one white and one pink. She sniffs them just like she did my bouquet.

Those bastards.

“Is someone going to explain, or are all of you going to be fired?” I spit out, furious that they’ve ruined my date night.

One of the women steps forward. She has short hair, is dressed in combat gear, and has a gun at her hip. She’s chewing gum and points at the crowd behind her before pulling another woman to stand next to the twins.

“Nope, now that’s better,” she says, gesturing at the men standing behind her—Carter, Carson, and both women excluded.

“Seems like this crew here picked up on some odd vibes from Miss Stephenson. They jumped to the conclusion that you three were mistreating her,” she articulates in her Northern English accent, then turns to me.

“The boss ordered them to apologize before the day was over, or they’d all lose their jobs. Clearly, they procrastinated until the last possible moment because they’re a bunch of unbearable fools,” she says, grinning at Callum. “I trust we four aren’t lumped into that group since we didn’t do anything wrong.”

“A simple apology would have been enough. Now the kitchen resembles a flower shop, a bakery, and a candy store,” Violet chuckles, blushing as she turns to them.

Did they really think we were holding her here against her will?

It seems they’ve taken their roles quite seriously.

That’s commendable.

“You’re forgiven. But kindly exit. We were in the middle of a date night that was going quite well—nothing had been set on fire yet,” Violet chuckles, and they all nod in agreement.

“Yes, boss,” they all echo, turning to leave with Catherine smirking behind them, guiding them out like a shepherd.

Well, all except for the twins.

“Can we?”

“No!” we all respond in unison.