Without Warning: A Billionaire Romance (Playboys of New York Book 5), JA Low [book suggestions .TXT] 📗

chuckles as we follow her out of the formal living room and into the formal dining room. There’s a large table set up in the middle of the room with mini pumpkins and fall-colored flowers down the center.

We take our seats, mine beside Mom, as she sits at the head of the table. Audrey is on the other side, then Ariana and Stirling across from us. Then moments later, Patrice walks out with her staff and starts serving lunch.

“Did you grow up like this?” Ariana whispers.

“Yes, but Patrice made sure she taught me to cook because she didn’t want me to be a lazy rich kid.” This makes Ariana chuckle.

Patrice kisses me on the cheek as she passes and then eyes Ariana suspiciously but moves on. Patrice is a tough cookie.

“This smells delicious,” Ariana whispers to me, which Patrice catches, making her grin. Once everyone is served, grace is said, and we all tuck in.

“So, Ariana… have you always lived in New York?” my mother asks, then takes a sip of her red wine.

“Yes. It’s the only place we’ve lived since leaving Spain,” Ariana replies. “My father worked on Wall Street until he retired a couple of years ago,” she explains. “My parents went back to Barcelona once he retired.”

“Do you have any other family here?” my mother asks.

“Not in New York. But I have two sisters who live in LA,” she explains.

“Oh, you must miss them so much.” My mother gives her a small smile.

“I do. Very much.”

We caught up with Ariana’s sisters briefly when we were in LA a couple months ago. As soon as she got together with them, the New Yorker Ariana left, and the Spanish Ariana emerged, and I’m not going to lie, I could listen to her speak Spanish all day long.

“Ariana’s youngest sister is a Spanish soap star,” I tell Mom, who loves Telenovelas. She watches them with Patrice.

“Would I know her?” my mother asks, leaning forward.

“Maybe?” Ariana shrugs. “Camila Blanco.”

Mom lets out a squeal, which surprises the table.

“Patrice. Patrice,” my mom screams, and our chef comes running in with a panicked look on her face.

“What is it, Marjorie?” she asks as she scans the table to make sure everything is right.

“Ariana’s sister is Camila Blanco.”

Patrice starts squealing too.

What the hell is happening?

Then Patrice starts speaking in Spanish to Ariana, and I have no idea what they’re saying. Ariana’s face breaks out in a smile as she nods at whatever Patrice is asking her. Now, I’m cursing for not taking Spanish lessons seriously at school, as I only catch bits and pieces of the conversation.

Once everyone has settled down, we get back to eating our dinner until we hear a commotion outside, which has Stirling and I looking at each other with concern. Then moments later, Stanford pushes open the doors and strides into the dining room as if he owns it.

“Oh, Stanford, you came.” My mom rises and pulls my brother into a hug.

Audrey and I give each other a ‘what the fuck look,’ neither one of us knowing we were having a surprise guest today.

“Come, come…” Mom fusses over my brother.

I know it hurts her that he’s chosen our father through all of this, but I guess he’s still her son. Stanford turns, then stills when he sees Ariana sitting beside me. I reach out under the table and grip her hand tightly.

“What’s she doing here?” Stanford sneers in Ariana’s direction.

I’m seconds away from launching myself at him for daring to look at Ariana like that, but she squeezes my hand tightly, keeping me in place.

“Oh, sweetie, that’s Ariana. Rhys’ partner,” Mom explains, not understanding the magnitude of what’s happening.

“I know who she is, Mom,” Stanford snarls. “She used to work for me.” His eyes narrow on her.

“Oh, really. Well, isn’t that a small world,” Mom tries to placate an aggressive Stanford.

“I told you not to touch her,” Stanford growls.

Mom looks between the two of us, and sudden realization hits her that maybe her family is more fractured than she originally thought.

“She was never yours,” I reply.

“You always did like my sloppy seconds,” Stanford spits out.

Mom gasps and looks frantically between the two of us.

My chair slides back with a scrape, and I stand. Stanford takes a couple of tentative steps back, and Stirling jumps up and stands between us.

“What the hell, Sandy,” Audrey yells at him.

Stanford looks over at our sister, and I can see his face soften a little.

“How dare you speak about my friend like that.” Audrey glares at him. “I know for a fact she would never touch you.” My sister’s reaction surprises my brother. “I also know your creeper vibes are one of the reasons Ariana left Dad’s firm.” Stanford has no recourse for my sister’s points.

“Please, can we just sit down and have something to eat,” Mom tries to interject.

“I’m not hungry anymore.” I glare at my brother.

“Please, he’s family,” Mom pleads with me.

“Family?” I give a sadistic laugh. “Ha. Stanford and our father don’t know the real meaning of family.” My chest is heaving in anger. “Did our dear brother here tell you how he was fucking my wife during our marriage?” My mother clasps her pearls at my confession, then she looks over at Stanford, and her eyes are filled with disappointment.

“Dad did, too,” he adds before realizing what he’s just said. As if those words make it all okay.

Mom stills, her face pales. “What did you say?”

“Mom.” I look over at her. The same blue eyes meet mine, but they are swirling with hurt and anger.

“Tell me it’s not true, sweetheart?” Mom looks at me.

“It’s true, Mom.”

Tears well in her eyes as she slowly sits back down in her chair. She just keeps shaking her head, then she directs a question to my brother. “What happened to you?”

“She set me up. It was all a setup. It wasn’t me.” He tries to deflect the situation, but Mom shakes her head with utter disdain for my brother.

“I think it’s best you leave, Stanford.”

Stanford’s