Free [Southern Arcana 2.0] Crossroads by Moira Rogers

maybe they’d still be able to snatch a few hours of peace before all hell broke loose. If Derek could control his reactions enough to get through the next few hours, they’d have some time. Not enough, but some.

    ***
    If there were two words Derek wouldn’t have picked to describe Luciano Maglieri, they were “punk” and “cowboy”. The man who arrived on Nick’s doorstep was handsome, immaculately clothed and groomed, and looked like he’d stepped out of a lineup of New York City’s most eligible bachelors.
    Luciano was pretty much everything Derek wasn’t, and it sucked.
    “Come in, Luke. We’ve been expecting you.”
    “Nicole.” Luciano stepped inside and leaned over to drop a kiss to Nick’s cheek. She tensed and pulled away, and the man raised his eyes to Derek. “Hi. I’m Luke Maglieri.” If you put your lips on her again, I’ll send you back to your mother in pieces. Derek was proud that he only sounded slightly surly. “Hi. I’m Derek.”
    Nick kept her hand wrapped firmly around his, something Luciano acknowledged with a small smile.
    “I see my intentions aren’t a secret, either.”
    “Let’s sit down,” Nick suggested, “and we can talk about things.” Alec waited in the living room, sprawled in one of Nick’s chairs with his legs stretched out in front of him and his ankles crossed. “Howdy, cowboy. How’s the ranch?”
    “It’s fine, thank you.” Luciano straightened his suit jacket. “Foaled some impressive animals this year.”
    Nick indicated the chair near Alec’s and steered Derek toward a love seat. “I’m glad your operation is doing well. I’m equally sorry you came all this way for nothing.” 42
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    Crossroads
    “I thought it might be that way.” Luciano grinned as he sat down. “I hope you won’t be offended if I express my earnest relief at your refusal.”
    It was almost too good to be true. Derek tightened his fingers around Nick’s hand and watched Luciano’s face. “You don’t want to marry her?”
    “Actually, no.” He seemed sincere. “Not that you’re not lovely, Nicole. But the last thing I want is control of the Conclave.”
    “We have that much in common,” she admitted.
    Luciano’s vaguely cool, polite demeanor thawed a little. “I was sorry to hear about Michelle’s situation.”
    Derek glanced at Alec, who shrugged one shoulder in a tiny, almost invisible gesture. Nick just sat a little straighter. “What was your mother offering? The terms, I mean.” A lock of dark hair fell over Luciano’s forehead, and he brushed it back. “Aaron Spencer would be given a private execution. She couldn’t budge on that. Michelle would be spared, and the baby would become a ward of the Conclave. You and I would be married, with a prenuptial agreement stipulating division of assets and—and heirs.”
    Nick made a soft noise and leaned closer to Derek. “Those are shitty terms, Luke.”
    “I know.”
    Nick’s pain grated painfully against Derek’s instincts. He dropped her hand and curled his arm around her shoulders instead, holding her against his side. “So if you know it’s shitty, why are you here?” He blinked. “Because I was told to come.”
    “What if they tell you to hurt Nick or Michelle?”
    Luciano’s expression melted into one of shock, and he glanced at Alec. “Is he serious?” Alec snorted. “If you’d spent the last two years getting spit on by the ruling elite the way he has, you’d be asking the same damn question, kid.”
    Derek felt Nick’s eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on Luciano. The man’s shock didn’t vanish; it worsened. “Oh, I see. Uh, well. No, I mean them no harm. Things certainly haven’t reached that point.” Maybe it was supposed to be comforting, but Derek just kept hearing the unspoken last word: yet. “In case Alec’s subtlety didn’t give it away completely, I wasn’t born like this. I was turned two years ago, and I don’t quite get your polite rules