He was happy.
And I was glad about it. Marriage didn’t change him. It just brought out a side to him I never thought I would see again, especially after the Russians had managed to capture him when he was sixteen. For a week, they held him and tortured him. It had been nothing more than pure determination and luck that we managed to find him and get him out of there, but the damage had been done.
He still bore the scars of it to this day, including the three vertical scars that ran down one side of his face.
We got to the office, and I helped myself to the small makeshift bar he had placed in the corner. I held up one empty glass. He shook his head and settled into the chair behind his desk.
I joined him with a glass that held about a finger of scotch. I took a small sip and eyed my brother.
“What?” he asked.
I shook my head. “You look different.”
“I don’t feel any different.”
“Sure you don’t,” I said. He might not see it, but I knew better. “I’m glad you got married. And to Luna.”
He raised one eyebrow at my words. “Is this your way of saying you want to get married as well? ’Cause I can arrange for that.”
I scowled at him.
He shot a small smile at me.
“No, fucker, I don’t want to get married.”
And I didn’t fucking know why, but the image of Isa suddenly came to mind. I quickly pushed that away. It was because Valentino was talking about her this morning, worrying like a fucking old woman with nothing better to do with her time.
Massimo’s inquisitive eyes narrowed on me. He didn’t say anything, just relaxed further into his chair. I maintained a neutral expression, showing nothing. I wasn't the ten-year-old boy I had been, caving under his gaze. He should know better than to think he could pry anything out of me.
He opened his mouth, probably to interrogate me, but thankfully, Romeo and Matteo showed up.
Matteo was wearing his usual cocky grin, sauntering over to the other remaining chair, while Romeo was his usual quiet self, his expression giving nothing away. He leaned back against the wall close to the desk, taking us in.
“I am here,” Matteo announced. “You may now feel at ease.”
“Oh, yeah. ’Cause we were so worried,” I said.
Matteo’s grin widened as he leaned back against the chair, putting his legs up on the desk. Massimo narrowed his eyes at the move before turning to me.
I pushed his legs off, making him lose his balance. He caught himself before he could fall face-first to the floor. So close.
My youngest brother glared at me, and I shot him a grin.
He looked like he wanted to tackle me to the ground. Matteo was never good at impulse control. My eyes held a challenge, egging him on.
“Why are we here?” Romeo said, diverting the attention away from us.
Massimo shook his head. “First, Matteo, stop being a little shit.”
Matteo gasped in mock outrage. Romeo cracked a small smile as Massimo turned to me. “And stop challenging him. He’s not going to let it go, and you know it.”
I laughed and patted Matteo’s shoulder. “We can work this out in the ring later.”
Matteo smiled widely at me. “Can’t fucking wait.”
The little shit hadn’t had his ass kicked by me in way too long. His head was starting to get just a little too big. Surprised he even fit through the door.
Massimo drew our attention back when he pulled out a small folder from the desk drawer and opened it.
