Chapter 7

Before any danger befell me from making a deal with Angel, however, there was something even more significant that I had to think about. Something I'd been putting off since before my trip here, delayed until the very last moment because I couldn't bring myself to give enough of a damn to worry about it.

It had been easy enough, doing the site inspections. It was also easy to spend time with my people, eating dinner with them and sharing stories from either side—who got married recently, who got promoted, who was foolish enough to get injured for a ridiculous reason.

I wouldn't forget Bernard, that large fool, getting shot because his quiet presence had shocked one of the newbies during an operation. He's lucky he's cute.

Anyway.

Traveling through Warsaw still did not help any in my search for a mate. I could recognize it too, how my Alpha and I wouldn't consider any of my own as potential partners—they were already family, far too familiar, and though they met my standards in some way, that still wasn't enough for me to see them as potential husbands.

Had the issue been my lack of attractiveness, perhaps the problem would be a dearth in options, rather than the meaningless abundance of them.

But that wasn't it.

I knew my own attractiveness. I could tell from how effortless it was to catch a stranger's attention with a mere smile, the slightest slip of Alpha pheromones. I could charm people as I liked, go out and about in a country I was not a resident of and find partners easily—the handsome kind, charming, easy to please and more than willing to kneel and bark if I so much as asked.

It was easy, finding people who'd be willing to sleep with me. If I just wanted a baby, I could've already done something back at home where the men were eager to be stepped on and crushed under my heel.

But that wasn't what I wanted.

Heading to Frankfurt proved to be no in different, given how no one caught my eye enough to last one conversation. The one thing that had settled my Alpha was the knowledge that the Warsaw and Frankfurt office were clean, with nothing to report—both for our legal businesses, and the businesses we had on the side that were a little less within the bounds of the law.

By the time I reached Paris, my frustration grew to Mount Everest heights. I had to acknowledge the reality that I might have to do something insane just to find the mate for me.

It wasn't helping any that my rut was already sending out warnings of its arrival in the next few days. My body felt warmer than usual; my anger, harder to tamp down. Even my patience felt like it would break into pieces at the slightest show of incompetence, which was unlike me on a usual day.

Maybe it was time to consider Angel's kidnapping idea, if only because I was running out of saner options.

But before that...

The one thing I'd been putting off since the start that I'd been thinking about?

It was time to face it now.

"Darling!"

"Mom," I said, laughing a little as she pulled me into an embrace.

Smaller than me both in height and build, but with a body count up to thousands given her violent tendencies even before marrying into my father's family. My mother, Rosalia Brant, didn't look a day over forty even when she was already in her sixties.

"What's this with the sudden site inspections?" she asked me, a curious gleam to her eyes when she pulled back to grip at both my arms. "Was this an excuse to see your parents, dear? You know you're welcome to have your vacation with us even while standing as the head."

"Unfortunately, I'm not that sentimental," I said, smiling in amusement. "Where's dad?"

"Busy cooking ever since you called that you'd be visiting." She raised a hand to give my cheek a slight squeeze, before letting me go completely. Her smile, as it's always been with me, was soft and fond; she didn't even sound offended at the idea that I'd called her words as mere sentimentality.

You'd think I was a blood-related daughter, the way she treated me so affectionately.

"You can't actually be alone?" she asked, looking behind me as if expecting someone to just pop out into the living room as a surprise guest.

I shook my head. "Angel left to give us some privacy."

"Privacy? In this family?"

My exhale came out as a laugh at the incredulity in her tone. "It's ridiculous, I agree. But there's something I need to talk about with you that might require it."

She frowned. The furrow of her brows and slight squint in one eye made it look like she didn't fully believe me, which was understandable. Our line of work, if one could actually call it work, was serious enough as is that the standard for what constituted seriousness was somewhat skewed to the extremes. "Are you going to tell us that you want to quit?"

"That's impossible."

"Then I don't see what else it might be that could have you be so serious, unless..."

Those brown eyes of hers gleamed golden with interest.

"You have a partner? You're pregnant?"

So close, and yet.

"Incorrect on both counts." I smiled wryly. "But I'm trying."

Her sharp eyes grew saucer-wide in shock. "You're...oh my."

My father, with his impeccable thing, peeped a head through the doorway with a smile. "Dinner's ready, you two. What are we talking about?"

I hummed a teasing tune. "You'll want to be seated for this one, dad."

Anselm Brant, taller than both myself and my mother, raised a brow in bemusement at my words. His physique, large as it was, made an interesting sight when combined with the cute, cartoon puppy-decorated apron he had on his person.

"Is this bad news or good news, dear?" he asked. "Because this old man of yours has a weak heart, so..."

"Nonsense." My mother had already left my side at this point, her hand landing a solid smack on my father's ass when she went past him into the dining hall. "You're perfectly healthy, dearest. Still, let's talk about it over dinner."

"Must you do that in front of our daughter?"

I laughed as I followed after him. "A little too late to ask that now, don't you think?"

"Honey..."

"She's right," my mother said, taking a seat at the dining table. It was decently-sized, round in shape and with a seating capacity for around five or so people at once. My father had already prepared the entrées, it seemed, as there were already three sets of Melon au Porto around the table for each of us. "It's too late to feel shy now. Your daughter is already, what, thirty-five?"

My father shook his head with a sigh. He kept muttering to himself as he untied his apron and hid it away—looking the very image of a househusband without even doing much, all just because his very mien spoke of domesticity and ease.

This was the same man who was the sole son of a family of criminals, who chose to marry a woman outside of his own parents' choice because he loved her. A man who understood that he could ruin my mother with his decision to let her into his life, and yet, he allowed himself to be swayed by her stubbornness anyway.

My mother and father, who chose to love each other regardless of how insane their life would turn out as a consequence.

Was it too much to ask for the same kind of love?

I didn't think it was.

"Your daughter," I began to say, watching as my father took a seat with us, "intends to find a mate and have a child soon."

My father choked.

My mother laughed, small hand patting at my father's back as he wheezed for breath.

"R-really? You're serious?" he asked, something anxious and excited in his droopy, dark brown eyes. "Marcella, you know we're not expecting anything of you..."

"I really want a child. Since months ago, even," I clarified, smiling as he rubbed at his chest to recover from the shock of my words. "Your daughter took her time, but I'm more than ready now. The only problem is finding the mate for me."

"Should I introduce you to some people?" my mother asked, an eager gleam to her eyes. She took a bite from her entrée, chewing carefully, before swallowing and saying, "Some of my friends have sons your age, and they're handsome. Not like your father, of course, but that's a given."

My father smiled to himself. "Why, thank you, dear."

"Of course. Who could even be as handsome as my beautiful husband?"

I let them go on with their flirting as I ate my own food. It was a welcome sight for me, even if I didn't say it out loud; it had been a while since I last saw them like this, after all, as they'd immediately left for Europe for their supposedly temporary retirement.

"There was a mole from the children I took in, but I'm taking care of it," I said eventually, catching both my parents' attention. "A rat from the pilots too."

The smile on my mother's face was swiftly replaced with the cold rage of a woman scorned. "What? Why am I only hearing this now?"

"I didn't make an announcement," I said, smiling wryly. "In addition, it only happened right before my flight to Warsaw. I'm telling you now so you at least have some idea instead of finding out when things have already gotten too out of hand." I hummed. "Not that it will. We can manage this much."

"Well, of course," my father agreed. "You will be handling it, so I'm certain it'll be fine."

I smiled at him. "Thanks for the trust, dad."

"That much is a given, sweetheart. I'm your father after all."

My mother tapped her spoon against her plate. "Should I introduce you to my friends' children? If you already have someone in mind, then I won't push."

"Please," I said, perhaps revealing a bit of my weariness given the amused smiles on my parents' faces. "Feel free to introduce them to me. It's been months and I still haven't found anyone."

"You inherited your high standards from me," my mother said, nodding.

"Didn't she get it from me?"

"Dear..."

I huffed out a laugh. My parents were lucky I considered this entertaining, because otherwise, it would just be exhausting to see this happening repeatedly.

Dinner passed by peacefully with such light conversation, and my parents' teasing. I poked fun at their flirting, they teased me on my unwilling singlehood (ouch), and we laughed about how cute and silly my charges were.

It made me think of how fortunate I was, to be able to share such gentle moments with the people I love despite having so much blood and death on my hands. It was, perhaps, unfair—but it was a kind of peace I could still afford. After all...

In this place far away from home, I wasn't the de facto head of the Underworld, as I was just someone's loving daughter.

Perhaps the universe heard me thinking in such a way, because that was the only explanation I could think of for what would—both for better and for worse—eventually happen in Bristol.