“Hey, girl! We brought Vietnamese.” Persy drummed chopsticks over takeout boxes, wiggling her brows.

“And good spirits,” Sailor added, showing me exactly what she meant by waving around a bottle of gin. I laughed.

“And sexual innuendos,” Belle murmured around a mouthful of popcorn. “But first take a shower and join us in a pre-Christmas celebration. These bitches didn’t chain their husbands to their babies’ cribs for nothing.” She tossed a matching pajama set my way, and I noticed there was a red lettering on the green PJ’s: 69% Nice.

I scurried to the bathroom and enjoyed a quick but steaming hot shower. When I got out, they were already settling all the food on the floor, including plates and utensils. Belle cracked open a bottle of champagne, leaving the gin unopened behind her back. I frowned.

“Are we celebrating something? Did you finally sell Madame Mayhem?”

Belle was the owner of a nightclub, much different than the one Sam was running. Recently, though, she wanted to sell it and soul-search across the globe. Travel. See things. Taste things. She always went against the grain, always did things her way—independently. Belle shook her head.

“This has nothing to do with me.”

“What’s going on?” I looked between them. I had an inkling I was being ambushed, and after the morning I had today—after giving up on my dream of being with Sam once and for all—I was in no mood to receive a lecture.

Belle sighed, tossing her blonde hair over one shoulder.

“I should’ve been more observant, that’s what happened. I’m so sorry. This week, the penny finally dropped. Halloween night at Badlands when I left you alone there. Then Sam asking Sailor for your number. The way the two of you disappeared at Thanksgiving around the same time …” she trailed off.

“Look, Aisling, we know,” Sailor said gravely.

We hadn’t exactly disappeared at the same time. Sam had tailed me without my knowledge. I blinked, waiting for the other shoe to drop. How much did they really know? I was always careful not to tell my friends anything about what went on with Sam. I knew how unlikely it was that something real would grow out of it, and didn’t want to be judged. More than I already was anyway.

“You’re having an affair with him,” Sailor said flatly. “With my brother. Sam Brennan. Underboss extraordinaire. The most ruthless man in Boston. I should have known. He’d always refused to talk about you, but recently, he’s become almost touchy every time your name comes up.”

Touchy? I wanted to laugh. Surely not. He didn’t care. He’d made that abundantly clear.

“No,” I said flatly, relieved that they didn’t know more. “I’m not having an affair with Sam Brennan.”

“Do sit down,” Persy requested, patting a spot on the carpet next to her. “And you don’t need to lie to us. It’s okay. God knows I did my fair share of chasing after Cillian when we first started out.” She sighed wistfully.

“It’s not the same. Cillian hounded you then forced you into marriage. The grain of want was always there. You helped it bloom into a magnificent garden, but he was a willing participant all throughout,” Belle pointed out, dumping a mass of noodles, beef, and vegetables onto a plate then handing it over to me. “We’re not going to sugarcoat it, Ash. We’re worried about you. Sam Brennan is a more-than-you-can-chew type of guy.”

“We also have something to tell you.” Sailor bit her lower lip, looking downward at her food. I sank to the carpet next to Persy, my eyes drifting among all of them as the pit in my stomach grew deeper and darker, as if bracing myself for the pain that was about to come.

“Something we probably should have said to you a long time ago,” Persy added, slurping a noodle between her pink Cupid lips.

Oh, merde. I couldn’t possibly handle any more bad news or sensational revelations today. Already, I felt like my heart was in my throat, ready to be puked out any minute now.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The evening we’d met you…” Sailor cleared her throat, amending as she chewed on her broccoli “…remember when we all made a pact that we would only marry for love? Not for money, not for power, not for fame, and not because it seemed like the safe thing to do. We only have eighty or so years on this planet, and it would be foolish to spend them with someone less than phenomenal. Well, it was your idea, which was why we thought it would be unfair to try to persuade you to stop pining after Sam. After all, you were going after your own heart. Doing as you preach. But … we had talks, Ash. And we all think that bet was not thought-through. Sometimes … well, sometimes it’s not so bad to let go.” Sailor nibbled on the broccoli nervously.

I did my best not to laugh at that. They had lengthy conversations about my obsession with Sam. Behind my back. I always knew that Sailor, Emmabelle, and Persephone were one unit, and I was an addition. A bonus epilogue to an already perfectly finished book. They’d all met at elementary school, while I’d been added to their girl-gang when I was seventeen. By then, they were best friends for a very long time and ticked off all the milestones together: first period, first kiss, first guy, first love, first heartbreak. Emmabelle and Persephone were sisters, with Belle being the oldest. And Sailor? Sailor was like Persy’s twin.

They didn’t tell me about the pact because they didn’t think to include me in it.

“And I love Sam with all my heart,” Sailor continued, “I mean, how could I not? He is my big brother, the boy who shooed the monsters away when I was a kid before becoming one himself. But I would never live with myself if I don’t get this out of my system. Sam is incapable of love, Ash. And I think it is time for you to move on. You cannot marry for love if you marry him because he is not the loving kind.”

“Not to mention, Sam doesn’t want to get married. He says that all the time. Boasts about it, too,” Persy pointed out heatedly, and I knew their hearts were in the right place, but I so didn’t need to hear this right now.

“I’m not having an affair,” I repeated again, dully though my body temperature climbed up steadily. They were patronizing me. Again.

“Honey, I’m not saying you can’t screw him out of your system a few more times.” Belle threw her arms around my shoulders, pressing me close in a hug. My plate nearly tipped over, some of its contents spilling on the carpet. “Just make sure you know he is not your forever. You’re a romantic one, like Persy.”

“Yeah. Just guard your heart.” Sailor smiled awkwardly. “You know? Because love—”

“Yes, I know,” I bit out, pulling back from Belle. “Love is not something your brother has to offer. So you’ve mentioned. I suppose it doesn’t matter if I repeat for the third time that I’m not sleeping with him?”

Technically speaking, I wasn’t. I had in the past, but I ended things, coming to the same conclusion they did—a decade after giving him my heart on a monster ride.

Belle gave me a pitying look. “Oh, honey.”

That was it.

I snapped.

Jumped to my feet, sending my plate in the air.

“Let me get this straight, you staged a whole intervention because you thought I was having an affair with Sam and couldn’t handle him?” I laughed incredulously, my teeth clenching with anger.