Laughter spilled out from the kitchen, stopping Dev in his tracks Monday evening as he was shrugging on the Cucinelli sport jacket. He was near the back entrance to the kitchen, the one that was accessed by the long, narrow mudroom that led to the back staircases and the veranda.

The sound was so strange to him, he didn’t move for several heartbeats. Wild, unfettered happy laughter was not something often heard in this home.

His brothers were in there, with their women. Dev figured they were making dinner since he’d advised Besson today that evening responsibilities would be suspended until further notice. The man needed to be home with his ill wife, and Dev was confident the household wouldn’t collapse onto itself with no one here in the evening.

“I’m not sure that’s how it’s supposed to work,” he heard Julia say, and he arched a brow.

Lucian and Julia had bought an old Victorian in the Garden District that was currently being renovated. Soon, he imagined that the home would be ready for them, and Lucian would be . . . gone.

Dev couldn’t be happier for him.

He imagined Gabe wouldn’t be too far behind Lucian, having already looked for a part-time residence in Baton Rouge to be closer to his son. And then it would be just Dev.

Ironic how things always came full circle.

He fixed the collar on the jacket and started walking. He made it a few steps when he felt a kiss of cold air along the nape of his neck. His step halted and he looked over his shoulder.

Something dark moved at the end of the long, narrow mudroom.

He wasn’t sure what the hell it was, because he’d caught the quick movement out of the corner of his eyes only a second before it disappeared. Frowning, he turned around and scanned the end of the mudroom. The door to the stairwell was closed, and if someone was down there, there was nowhere for them to go or hide.

“So, is your house haunted?”

Rosie’s question entered his thoughts, and a slight half grin tugged at his mouth. NOPE. That was the acronym for her paranormal investigative team. How . . . satirical.

“Dev?”

He turned toward the sound of Lucian’s voice. The youngest de Vincent stood in front of the pocket doors that led to the pantry and kitchen. He held a bottle of unopened red wine in his hand. With the exception of the blue-green eyes, Lucian looked nothing like Gabe or him. Fair of skin and hair, Lucian took after their mother, and it was no wonder that all of them had suspected that Lawrence wasn’t the father of Lucian and his twin sister. They’d all thought it was some unknown male, someone who was probably kinder to their mother than Lawrence.

Obviously it came as a shock when it was revealed that Lawrence was indeed the twins’ biological father and Gabe and Dev weren’t his children. That hadn’t been the only earth-shattering shock in the last several months. There was also the whole mess with their sister, Madeline, and the truth about what had happened to their mother.

“What are you doing?” Lucian asked.

“Thinking,” he replied.

Fair brows lifted. “Really? You’re just standing in the mudroom thinking?”

“Appears to be the case.”

Lucian sent him a wry look. “That’s not weird or anything.” He grinned as he stepped to the side. “Heard the senator was here this morning.”

“He was, but I doubt he’ll be back for a while.”

“Is that so?” Lucian started walking toward the kitchen, obviously expecting Dev to follow. Dev sighed. “Does he know anything about Sabrina’s whereabouts?”

“He claims he doesn’t.”

“Do you believe him?” Lucian asked as they passed the pantry.

“Not for one second,” Dev answered. “It doesn’t matter, though. I have someone looking for her.”

Lucian nodded, and a moment ticked by as he met Dev’s stare. “Hate everything that Sabrina has had a part of, and you know my intense dislike of that woman has and always will be unmatched, but I’m glad you’re finally free of her.”

He tilted his head to the side. “I’d chosen to be with her.” That was partly true. The idea of their engagement had been introduced by Lawrence and there had been no greater supporter of merging the de Vincent and Harrington empires than Lawrence, but Dev’d gone along with it. Not for those reasons, though. “Wasn’t like it was against my will.”

“Yeah, you did, and yeah, I’ve heard you had your reasons—ones that I’ll never fucking understand—but at the end of the day, she’s not going to be your wife, so hallelujah, my brother, that is reason to celebrate.” He lifted the bottle of wine. “Now you can find someone who isn’t a grade A bitch.”

Dev stared at his brother blandly. “I’m not currently in the market to find someone.”

“And isn’t that when you usually do?” Lucian turned before he could see Dev’s frown and pushed open the kitchen door. “Look who I found loitering in the mudroom, thinking about deep de Vincent stuff.”

Letting out an audible sigh, Dev caught the door before it swung back and smacked him in his face. He really should’ve just kept walking earlier.

The kitchen was the combination of what used to be two rooms, and it had been renovated over the years. His mother would’ve enjoyed this current reincarnation, with the white cabinets and spacious gray marble countertops. In the center was an island large enough to seat half a football team. She would’ve loved that.

Sitting on the stools were Julia and Nikki. Both women turned toward him. Julia smiled in his direction. Nikki didn’t turn fully since her movements were still stiff and she looked like smiling would’ve hurt, so she wiggled her fingers. Neither woman truly liked him nor were they probably thrilled that he was in the kitchen with them. Dev knew that and really couldn’t blame them. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure if he cared about that or not. He knew he should—after all, his brothers cared for them deeply—but he was rather . . . ambivalent.

For the most part.

On the other side of the island stood Gabe in front of some sort of stainless-steel pot thing and an array of chopped vegetables.

“Lucian is cooking dinner,” Gabe announced as the younger de Vincent joined him, placing the bottle of wine on the island. “Or attempting to.”

“Hey. I know what I’m doing.” Lucian reached across the island and tugged on the end of Julia’s ponytail. “Don’t I?”

“I’m hoping you do, because we’re starving,” she replied.

“You don’t have faith in my culinary skills?” Lucian’s eyes widened as he straightened. “What about you, Nikki?”

“Strangely I’m relieved I can only eat liquids right now,” she replied.

Dev smirked as Gabe laughed under his breath.

“That’s rude.” Lucian picked up a package of beef. “Y’all are going to be eating your words figuratively and literally.”

A frown tugged at Julia’s brows. “I don’t think you can eat your words literally.”

“Oh you can.”

Julia opened her mouth, but closed it and then shook her head. There was a fond look to her eyes, though, as she watched Lucian. The woman was in love with Lucian, that much was clear. One would have to be to put up with the youngest de Vincent.

“Why don’t you join us?” Gabe offered as he walked to where Nikki sat. He didn’t touch her as he leaned against the island, but it was apparent to Dev that he wanted to. “I can’t promise that this Instant Pot thing is going to work—”

“It’s going to work.” Lucian turned to Gabe. “It’s really not that complicated. You put the beef in the pot and you push a few buttons.”

“What’s an Instant Pot?” Dev asked, his gaze moving to the contraption on the counter.

“It cooks food.” Lucian paused dramatically. “Instantly.”

Something didn’t sound right about that.

“It’s kind of like a Crock-Pot, but it’s more of a pressure cooker,” Nikki explained, speaking slowly. Her words were also a little mushed, due to the busted lip and bruised jaw. “Supposedly you can roast beef in about thirty minutes.”

That really did not sound right.

“I bought it today,” Lucian said proudly. “At a store.”

“Really?” Dev replied dryly. “All by yourself?”

“I was with him,” Julia chimed in.

Lucian nodded. “That is true.”

“Have dinner with us,” Gabe chimed in again. “It would only be fair if all of us were poisoned at once.”

“Well, while that offer is enticing, I’ll have to pass. I have dinner plans.” Plans that included a medium-rare fillet and none of this . . . family stuff. It was time to go. “Have a nice evening and enjoy your . . . Instant Pot.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed, but Dev turned and left before either of his brothers said a word. He made it to the mudroom and to the outside door when he heard his name called out again. So close, he thought. He even had his car keys in his hand. He turned back around.

Nikki was in the mudroom, her small frame nearly swallowed by what he assumed was one of Gabe’s old Harvard hoodies. “I won’t keep you, because I know you’re busy.”

Dev waited, having no idea why Nikki wanted to talk to him since she usually went out of her way to avoid him.

She shuffled forward and then stopped. “I just wanted to say thank you for making sure my father isn’t overworking right now, covering both the day and evening shifts.”

He had no idea what to say, so he just stared at her.

“I know it’s an inconvenience. I mean, you have Lucian in there trying to cook dinner with an Instant Pot.” The side of her mouth that didn’t look bruised to all hell tipped up in a small smile. “So, yeah, I just wanted to say thank you.”

Why in the hell was Nikki thanking him? If he had Sabrina under control, like he’d thought he did, she wouldn’t be standing there looking like she went toe to toe in a cage fight and lost. He really had no words.

Nikki’s gaze lifted to his, and then she lurched toward him. Dev froze as she wrapped her arms around him. It wasn’t a tight hug. Would’ve hurt her too much to do that, but it was a hug, and Dev couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. Possibly by her mother, Livie, after the death of his mother? That was over a decade ago.

Nikki pulled back and mumbled, “Thank you.”

Still as a damn statue, he stood there and watched Nikki shuffle back toward the kitchen. A second later, he saw Gabe standing in the doorway. The son of a bitch smiled.

Dev needed to get the hell out of this house, and he did without a second more hesitation.

Smelling like she bathed in brown sugar and vanilla extract, Rosie stared at the space in the hallway, the area where carpet had once been, now covered with tacked-down blue tarp.

She shuddered as if someone had walked over her grave. Biting down on her lip, she looked over at the man standing beside her. He was also staring at the spot, and she imagined he was just as affected, if not more, by it.

That was where Parker Harrington had died.

It could’ve been where Nikki had died.

“Thank you,” Gabe said, his voice rough as his head turned in her direction. “For coming over and doing this. Nic needs some clothes, but I don’t want to pick out the wrong stuff.”

“It’s okay. Glad I can help out.” Rosie turned back to the hallway. Gabe had come by Pradine’s Pralines this morning and asked if she could help him get some clothes for Nikki, so of course, she had agreed. She only had to stop at the seamstress who’d been working on her costume for the Masquerade and pick up her dress first, which she had done and it was now stretched out on the back seat of her car protected in a garment bag. “Am I allowed to walk on the tarp?”

“Yeah. The carpet is pulled up under there, but it’s safe to walk on.”

Taking a deep breath, she walked forward with the old Vera Bradley weekender and tried not to think about the fact she was most likely walking on blood that had dried through to the subfloors. One would think that since she investigated creepy hauntings that this wouldn’t freak her out.

But it did.

“Try not to think about it,” Gabe advised, and Rosie realized the creep factor must’ve been written all over her face.

“Trying,” she said as she all but tiptoed over the tarp. “Not really working.”

She hurried across the tarp and down the short hallway. The bedroom door was left open, and as Rosie stepped inside, she realized the bedroom remained the way Nikki had left it.

Towels were scattered along the floor and bed, and she knew from what Nikki had told her, she’d been folding them when Parker showed up. A broken lamp was placed on the dresser, the shade ruined.

“I was here, you know?” Rosie placed the bag on the bed and unzipped it. Turning to the dresser, where she figured Nikki kept most of her comfy clothes, she knocked a curl out of her face. “Last Friday? I was helping her unpack, and I would’ve stayed later, but I had this thing I had to do.”

Gabe was quiet from where he waited in the doorway.

Walking over to the dresser, she knelt and started opening the drawers. Luck was on her side, because she immediately found a stash of sweatpants and leggings. “If I had stayed, I would’ve been here. I could’ve—I don’t know.” She snatched up some pants. “Maybe if I was here, he wouldn’t have tried to hurt her.”

“You shouldn’t go down that road.” Gabe leaned against the doorframe.

Finding some lightweight shirts, she gathered them up. “Kind of hard not to.”

“If you stayed, he could’ve attacked you or worse.”

That was true, but it didn’t really lessen the guilt. She carried her finds over to the bed, placing them in the roomy bag.

“I should’ve been here,” Gabe said after a few moments. “If I hadn’t made a mess of things with Nic, I would’ve been here. None of this would’ve happened.”

Rosie looked over at him. He was staring forward, but she could tell he wasn’t seeing her. He was seeing what had happened in here. “You told me not to go down that road, but you’re obviously doing it, too.”

His gaze shifted to her. “Kind of hard not to.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. “I just hope she can come back here and enjoy this. She was so excited about this place. I don’t want that ruined for her.”

“Me neither.”

“Then I guess we make sure it doesn’t.”

Gabe smiled as he nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Thinking of what Devlin had said about how Gabe felt about Nikki, she wondered if this was something Nikki was aware of yet. Probably not. Knowing Nikki, she’d be the last one to figure it out.

Rosie quickly gathered up enough clothing to last Nikki for almost two weeks, including undergarments. By the time she zipped up the bag, the thing was bursting at the seams and had to weigh a ton.

“I got this.” Gabe appeared beside her when she went to lift the bag. He took the strap, hooking it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

Knocking a stray curl out of her face, she stepped back from the bed and faced Gabe. “I would like to see Nikki. I know she’s at your place, and whatever, but I really would like to be able to visit her.”

“I think she’d like to see you.” Gabe turned to the doorway. “You’re more than welcome to come over now.”

Surprise flickered through her. She expected to have a massive argument on her hands, where she’d have to beg and plead. The de Vincents were notoriously private. “Really?”

“Yeah. I think that would be a nice surprise for her.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “You look shocked. Did you think I’d say no?”

Rosie blinked slowly. “I’m sorry. I guess I kind of did.”

He lifted his brows. “And why is that?”

“Well, your brother . . .” She trailed off.

Understanding flickered across his face. “Dev? Don’t worry about him. It’s unlikely that he’ll even be there.”

A weird feeling whirled inside her, a mixture of relief and, oddly, disappointment. Never seeing Devlin again would be for the best, so she didn’t understand the disappointment at all.

But who cared? Because holy moon pies, she was going to get to see Nikki and she was going to set foot in the de Vincent manor, one of the most haunted places ever.