Perfection of Suffering (The Shadows of Wildberry Lane Book 1)

by M. Sinclair

  Stratton let out a small chuckle before wrapping a hand around the back of my neck and pressing a kiss to my forehead, then walking away. I didn’t even care about the landscapers that were watching, jumping as Stratton barked something at them, causing me to smile fondly. I turned to walk inside, loving that I somehow managed to see him every morning without fail. Even if most of the time he was a grumpy bastard.

  He was my grumpy bastard.

  You wish.

  I did. It was true.

  Our large, white granite kitchen was empty as I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge that was always fully stocked with everything you could imagine. I grabbed a small container of fruit, knowing I wasn’t going to feel comfortable eating at the brunch but feeling a bit dizzy and hungry nonetheless, then made my way out of the kitchen and through our quiet house. My parents were probably already at the club. I hadn’t confirmed, but I didn’t need to be there until about an hour from now, and that was showing up right as check-in started. Although, I sort of wish my mom was still home—it was times like this when it’d be really helpful to have a girlfriend I could run outfit ideas past.

  My room was warm and comfortable as I closed the door, making my way over to the bathroom. Brushing my teeth and hair, I blasted some music and began to get ready for the day. I wouldn’t say I had a specific routine for getting ready, but when I took my time, I found the process relaxing. As I sipped my coffee and went through the careful process of straightening my hair and then applying light makeup to highlight my tan, I realized I was more excited than anxious about today.

  That was progress.

  It was also because I was damn positive the Brooks twins wouldn’t be there today. They would probably show up at the tournament tomorrow, but the brunch was usually just for out-of-town guests. I sent up a quick prayer, hoping like heck I didn’t have to deal with their crap. After I was done getting ready, I walked over to my closet and stood in front of it with my head tilted.

  What to wear… what to wear.

  Grabbing a fitted blue and pink checkered dress, I hung it on my closet hook and stripped out of my overshirt and swimsuit. I found myself wearing dresses more than anything, and I wish I could tell you it was more than a convenience thing, but come on! It was an entire outfit in one easy to slip on garment.

  Slipping on a pair of light pink lace panties and a bra, I fit the dress over my frame and ran my fingers through my hair. Reaching up to the top shelf of my closet, I pulled down a vintage Hermes box that contained a silk baby pink scarf that I folded into a headband shape. I secured it in my hair easily and then slipped on a pair of diamond earrings and matching infinity rings that I wore almost every day. I wore them on my left hand, on my second and fourth finger, and I hate to admit it, but sometimes I stared at my ring finger wondering what my wedding ring would look like there.

  If I ever got married, which was unlikely to happen without me ending up with a broken heart.

  Letting out a soft hum, I slipped on a pair of white sandals and packed up my small purse, not bothering to turn on my phone. I knew the guys would be at the brunch—it would be very odd if they ever decided to not show up to an event like that. Something I appreciated more than they realized.

  Walking down the stairs, I stepped out onto the front porch, glad I’d left my car in the driveway last night. My dad had some crazy security in the garage, and while I knew all the codes, it could be a pain in the behind. I smiled, looking over my custom light blue Rolls-Royce Phantom that was glinting in the bright morning sunshine. I’d gotten it as a graduation present, and let me tell you, I had never been a car person until I sat in cream leather seats like the ones in my car.

  I unlocked the door and walked around, only stopping as I heard the sound of another engine starting up. Looking up, I smiled, finding Sterling leaning out the window of his matte black BMW, his brother presumably driving.

  “Sugar, you look gorgeous this morning,” he commented before grunting and scowling back at his brother, making me smile. Sterling totally had a flirty side to him that I found myself flustered by, but I couldn’t help but love it.

  “Thank you,” I chimed. “Are you two headed over to the club?”

  “Want to ride with us?” Lincoln asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement at something. My eyes darted down to my car as I shook my head before smiling at their disappointed expressions.

  “I never get to drive her!” I reminded them. Sterling nearly pouted as they pulled forward so I could pull out of the driveway. I slid into the piece of art, my fingers running over the designer interior, inhaling the scent of my familiar Burberry perfume. Turning on my Spotify, I picked my morning playlist and pulled out of my driveway much faster than the twins would have liked. I backed up, pulling right up next to Lincoln, who was offering me a warning look.

  “Dahlia,” he rumbled, Sterling laughing.

  “No back seat driving!” I warned, flashing a smile before rolling up the window and pressing the gas to speed towards the gate. I didn’t say I was a smart driver, I just said I loved my car and enjoyed driving. I offered security a wave as I sped down the main lane of trees that led out of Wildberry Lane. Inhaling happily, I drove almost on auto-pilot towards the club.

  To say it was a short drive was an understatement. Not even a minute later, I was turning right onto a large stone road that had a guard who immediately waved me through. An expanse of land followed as I followed the familiar route through the expensive landscaping, the twins in my rearview mirror. I could practically see Lincoln’s scowl from here, and I found myself excited about how he was going to react to me not listening to him.

  As I pulled closer to the massive, ivy-covered stone building, I felt my lips split into a huge smile. Holy crap. My parents hadn’t been joking. This was nearly double the international attendance than usual. I pulled up past designer car after designer car, eyes following my path as I parked and hopped out easily, greeting one of the valets. His face was familiar, but I was kicking my own butt for not knowing his name. The twins pulled up next to me before I could go inside, and Lincoln stepped out and made me smile.

  “You need to be more careful,” he growled under his breath, grabbing my waist and tugging me against him. I let my head fall back, and I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me as I flashed him a teasing smile.

  Why would I drive more carefully when it made him act like this?

  “Linc,” Sterling warned, his voice light but edged in something I didn’t fully understand.

  Lincoln’s eyes flashed with frustration before he nodded towards the club house, his hand staying around my waist as I walked between the twins, strolling past faces I recognized but couldn’t name. I knew the media was here as well, their badges identifying them, making me wish I had sunglasses with me. I didn’t like media attention, especially not at a place I was usually so comfortable in.

  Immediately upon entering, I noticed an array of familiar faces from across the room, including Kingston and Yates. I wondered briefly where Dermot was, but I was far too caught up on how handsome my four boys looked, dressed up in navy and searsucker jackets, their collars undone and hair slightly damp from this morning. I moved closer to Lincoln as Sterling said something to him over my head. I honestly didn’t even care what they were talking about, because I was suddenly busy narrowing my eyes at a woman that was not so casually eyeing Yates.

  She should keep her eyes to herself… it was rude. That was my reasoning.

  “Princess,” Kingston called out as we neared. I broke from between the twins and walked towards them, flashing Yates a small smile. I knew we were okay from last night, but I still wasn’t fully back to teasing him yet.

  I needed a few more hours for that.

  “Yates,” I squeezed King in a hug, turning my head against his chest to look at the cocky bastard standing next to him. He flashed me a smile and tugged on my hair lightly in greeting.

  “There are a fuck ton of people here,” Lincoln m
uttered as the twins joined us.

  “Where is Dermot?” I asked King curiously, Yates and the twins talking about just how many new faces there were. I found myself caught slightly off guard by the way King was already looking down at me, his eyes filled with something darker than normal. On my question, they lightened as he flashed a smile.

  “Sleeping in, but he’s going to come to the gala tonight,” he answered easily. Oh good.

  Nodding, I looked at the bay of windows behind us, noticing my parents out on the balcony. I tapped King’s chest, and his arm released me. I stepped past my boys and made my way through the large archway, taking a glass of champagne that one of the blazer-wearing workers offered. I mumbled a ‘thanks,’ ignoring the stares as I caught my mom’s eyes. Instantly, she was smiling.

  “I knew you were going to wear that dress!” she said with a knowing smile.

  “I wonder where I get my style from,” I mused, tilting my head and looking at her very similar dress, checkered in purple and pink instead.

  “You both look beautiful,” my father said. “Did you drive here, Dahlia?”

  “Yep.” I nodded and frowned. “I tried to convince Stratton to come, but apparently it’s a bad week.” They knew what I meant by that.

  “You should really talk to him,” my mom told my dad.

  “He’s his own man,” my dad sighed. “I think he’s figuring some sh… stuff, some stuff out. I have told him he can always come to me, but I’m not going to hurt the kid’s pride by trying to step in as a parent. He’s been his own for long enough.”

  I knew he was right. I just hated that.

  “I’m going to head back inside,” I said, narrowing my gaze at that same woman edging closer to my… to Yates. Nothing ‘my’ about him. My parents were suddenly in discussion with a nearby couple as I stepped back inside… or tried to.

  A large chest appeared in front of me, and a groan nearly broke from my throat as I narrowed my gaze at the Scottish family crest on the expensive blazer in my line of sight. Putting on my best smile, I looked up into a handsome yet very frustrating face. I was finding that sometimes the most annoying people were blessed with being attractive.

  “Ian McCaffrey, how good to see you again,” I mused.

  It wasn’t good to see him again. In fact, Ian was one of those guys that really didn’t understand when a woman wasn’t into him. Not only did the man think he was god’s gift to women, but he had a temper. It was a horrible combination.

  His frame blocked me from walking inside as he looked over my expression. There was something dark in his eyes as he tried to be polite. “I saw you from across the room and figured I would come say hi to my favorite American.”

  Oh wonderful. I didn’t want to be his favorite anything. Ever.

  “Here I am.” I swallowed, feeling awkward as someone with a badge came up to us. I narrowed my eyes, realizing that it was press from Scotland, and my jaw clenched as an amused look flashed on Ian’s face.

  “Mind if I get a picture of you two?” the man asked, his accent almost identical to Ian’s.

  “You know what, I am not really comfortable with that,” I offered. Ian chuckled as if I was saying something amusing.

  “It’s just a photo, Dahlia.” He flashed a smile. “A show of how welcoming your family is.”

  Oh, wow, I hated this guy.

  “Sure, right,” I inhaled, knowing I was going to regret this as I turned to the camera, my body stiffening as his hand pressed to my lower back, far too close to my ass. The camera clicked, and I immediately stepped away, feeling disgusted.

  Except I stepped right into a very familiar body, one that was filled with far more tension than I was okay with. My gaze snapped up to Yates, his temper flashing in his eyes as his fingers wrapped gently around the top of my arm. I had a feeling he was about two seconds from literally pulling me behind him. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind that, because Ian’s cologne was bothering my nose.

  “Yates Carter,” Ian chuckled, “good to see you.”

  “Not likewise,” he snapped and looked at the cameraman. “Go.” He scrammed as Ian’s face shifted, his expression turning more calculating as he looked down at me with interest. My fingers gripped Yates’s shirt, because I was honestly concerned the man was going to lose it.

  I knew a few things in this world, and one of them was that my boys hated Ian and his brother. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t disagree with the consensus.

  “You shouldn’t have shown up this year,” Yates said, his voice low and challenging.

  “Why is that?” Ian goaded.

  “Son!” Mr. Carter suddenly appeared, squeezing Yates’s shoulder. “I need both Dahlia and you for a moment, is that possible?”

  I could see the tension in his frame, and Yates continued to stare at Ian before exhaling and breaking away from his father’s grip, gently leading me away from the two of them. I intertwined our fingers… because I wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything dangerous. He led us towards a hallway, and as he turned he let out a frustrated breath and immediately began tapping on his phone. I leaned against the wall, watching him with curiosity as he worked. His voice was snappy as he made a call.

  “If that photo goes anywhere but into a delete file, you’re fired,” he demanded, his voice filled with threat. No greeting. Nothing. Just anger about a picture… Did he mean the picture of Ian and I? Holy crap.

  When he hung up, I took the chance and grabbed Yates’s shoulders, his silver eyes meeting mine as he offered me a frustrated look. “I hate that fucker.”

  “I know,” I nodded, “but don’t let him ruin your morning.”

  Yates swallowed, seeming to relax slightly. “Come on, let’s sit down for brunch. I can’t stand around with all of these idiots.”

  I didn’t stop him from intertwining our fingers as his thumb played with my infinity rings, leading us through groups of people as we walked towards the large dining room. Sterling was waiting for us, and I could see King and Lincoln sitting already, the first talking quietly to Mr. Carter.

  “You okay?” Sterling asked Yates as the man offered a terse head nod.

  He was not okay.

  As we sat down for brunch, I made sure to stay next to Yates, Sterling on his other side, as Mr. Carter offered me a smile before walking back over to his table. Lincoln was doing something on his phone as Kingston offered me a curious look.

  “What?” I arched a brow, crossing my ankles as I sat back in my chair. The entire dining room was filled with circular tables, fresh flowers, and musicians performing a classical playlist that added to the light, airy atmosphere. Before King responded, a waiter dropped off champagne as I waited for him to finally say something.

  “I need you to stay away from Ian and George, princess,” Kingston explained softly, his eyes moving over my shoulder. “I know you don’t like being rude, but if he does that shit again, just walk away.”

  I didn’t disagree, but… “Why?”

  Kingston’s fingers tapped on the table as I took a sip of my champagne. When he finally answered, it wasn’t what I expected. “I don’t trust myself to not lose it.”

  Oh.

  I blinked, mid drink, and pulled my glass away from my lips and frowned. “Lose it?”

  “Yes.”

  I examined his face. “Because he is talking to me?”

  “Yes.”

  Oh.

  Nodding, I took another sip and then reached over to squeeze his hand, not understanding his reasoning fully but trusting that King losing it wouldn’t be good. “I told him I was uncomfortable with taking a photo, and I wasn’t very friendly this time, if we are being honest. But I will make sure to be more forceful about it.”

  “Motherfucker,” Yates hissed as I mentioned telling Ian I’d been uncomfortable.

  “It’s fine.” I looked at the silver-eyed man before returning my gaze back to King. “I promise.”

  Kingston nodded, his jaw clenching as he seemed to shake himself.
Before I could say anything else, we had a new guest join us at the table. Well, actually five. I mean, they were tables for twelve, so it wasn’t surprising, but it was surprising that I didn’t recognize them. My eyes met the woman’s gaze, the men she was with sort of fading into the background.

  Instantly, I was smiling. “India Lexington?”

  The woman’s face transformed into shock as she dropped her purse and stayed standing. “Dahlia?”

  Walking around the table, I hugged the woman I hadn’t seen in what felt like five or six years. I would have recognized that gaze anywhere, though. She always had the most fascinating eyes out of anyone I’d ever met. Honestly, a bit freaky, but still beautiful.

  I couldn’t remember exactly how much older she was than me, but our families ran in similar circles, and one time when we had been in Europe, we’d spent a week or so exploring together. I think I’d been around fifteen at the time, and with her being older, I had thought she was the most fascinating person on the planet.

  That theory still held.

  The Lexington family was East Coast old world money. I couldn’t remember exactly what her family had their fingers in, but I think it was politics. Or had been politics. My brow dipped, remembering how she had lost most of her family in a plane crash only a year or so ago. Pulling back, her dark eyes ran over my face as her golden hair bounced around her face. There was something very different about India.

  There was a calculated and cold edge to her that I didn’t really know how to read. Her smile and expression were friendly, but her frame held tension to it, and the outfit she wore was the opposite of me in every possible way. Her all-black silk suit was accented by a diamond necklace and kickass stilettos. Honestly, I could admit that she was intimidating to be around.

  “How have you been?” she asked. “I hadn’t realized that you would be here.”

  “Our families own the club,” I explained easily. “But what about you? Have a thing for golf?”

  “Hardly.” She chuckled and then motioned to the men she’d arrived with, all of whom seemed to have introduced themselves to my boys. “We needed to be in the area for an event, and I figured it would be a good break. Let me introduce you.”