My Bad Boy Werewolf Quadrillionaire Space Lord

The Incredible in the Familiar

Wait, what the hell?

Luca has parents?

Well adjusted, competent parents who actually love him? And not like Paw Patrol adults where they're so useless it's criminal, but his dad is actually giving legal perspectives on a lawsuit.

"I could have sworn you were an orphan," I blurted out to Luca just as his dad finished explaining the complications involved in this lawsuit.

"Me too," BIRD admitted.

"That's not the first time someone's said that," Anna Cardego said, and she set the papers in his hand on the table. "I might start taking it as a criticism of my parenting."

I gasped, put my hand over my mouth, and sat up straighter. Luca's mother had a certain presence about her, a sense of 'fuck with me at your peril' that made me very wary of upsetting the woman.

Also, I was just a little jealous of Anna. I remain strongly convinced that I will not age nearly as well as she has. The woman had grey hair and wrinkles, sure, but she wore it like a goddamn badge of honour. She still looked impressively fit, and rugged living on Earth had maintained a muscle tone I'll admit I just probably don't possess.

Also, dat ass. As someone who strives to cultivate and maintain a debonair derrière, I could and still can appreciate an accomplishment when I see it.

Lito Cardego chose as wisely as Indiana Jones did in The Last Crusade.

"No apology?" Anna Cardego asked. She looked back at me with a look that cats must wear when they have a mouse cornered.

I swallowed hard and held out my hands. "Most billionaires who have living parents are usually possessive assholes."

Anna laughed, and my nose was immediately relieved that it wasn't about to be broken. "Fair point. I've been to a few of these galas my son has to attend. Well, one gala. Most of one. Ninety minutes of one."

I laughed. "Okay, I need to hear that story."

"Not much to tell," Anna said with a shrug. "Some jackass at the party kicked a puppy hard enough to make it limp, and I had just seen John Wick for the first time. Surgeon said he had never heard of anyone shattering a champagne bottle against someone's leg before."

Just for the record, champagne bottles are quite a bit thicker than most wine bottles. Dealing with the pressure of carbonized wine and all that. So the idea of breaking one of those things against a fleshy leg should terrify you.

"Anyway, let's find you some of my hiking pants," Anna said. "Even if you're going to be flying that dropship Viviana left for us, it's best to be prepared. And I'll see if I have a pair of proper boots for you."

"What's wrong with my boots?" I asked.

"Notice how your ankles are sore, your feet hurt, and your toes feel like you've been kicking a brick wall all day?" Anna queried in response. I looked down at my feet, and the more I paid attention to them, the more I realized she was right.

"Wearing heels on a dirt trail will do that to you. More so if you spend a lot of time under pansy gravity like the Moon. You're on a real planet right now, darling, and you need to wear smarter shoes," Anna said, and her cocky drawl reminded me quite a lot of her son.

"Okay, I'll take it," I conceded. She lead me into a small, well organized room in the back, which looked halfway between a spare bedroom and an armoury. Well-oiled, thick leather shoes of various sizes sat in rows, along with pants and shirts that looked like they had seen a lot of use. Shirts with scuff marks and stitched up rips, pants with more patches than a nicotine addict having a bad week, and gloves that looked like you could wear them to safely fish things out of a running meat grinder.