“What about the family business?” I asked, blowing on my hot chocolate. “How did Matt end up running everything?”
Ryan’s expression turned thoughtful as he pulled up another photo—this one of all four brothers in suits, probably at some charity event. “When Dad wanted to retire, everyone just assumed Daniel would take over. He was the eldest, the responsible one. But Daniel…” He shook his head fondly. “He loves his movies, his quiet life with Sophie and the kids. The empire would have eaten him alive.”
“And Jeremy?”
“Please.” Ryan’s laugh held genuine affection. “Jeremy can barely manage his own lunch schedule. But Matt…” His voice softened with pride. “Matt was born for this. Dad saw it before any of us did. The way he thinks, moves, handles pressure—it’s like watching a master conductor lead an orchestra.”
“Where are your parents now?”
“Living their best life in Bali. Mom’s taken up painting, Dad’s writing his memoirs. They pop in for holidays and birthdays, but mostly they’re content letting their empire rest in Matt’s capable hands while they perfect their tan.”
I tried to picture Matt as a child, learning at his father’s knee. “It must have been a lot of pressure.”
“Matt thrives on pressure. He’s like one of those deep-sea creatures—take away the weight and he’d probably explode.” Ryan stretched. “Though I wish he’d learn to delegate more. These late-night crisis sessions are getting more frequent.”
“Does he always work this late?”
“Only when something’s really wrong.” Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Or when Xavier’s been particularly… Xavier.”
Before I could question that, Ryan bounced up. “But enough about my workaholic brother. We should exchange numbers. Fair warning—I’m a chronic meme sender and I have no concept of appropriate texting hours.”
“I’m starting to see why Matt keeps you on a different continent.”
“Rude!” But Ryan was laughing as we swapped phones. “I’ll have you know New York loves me. Though I might need to visit more often now that Matt’s finally found someone worth keeping around.”
The warmth in his voice made my chest tight. “You’re flying back tomorrow?”
“Crack of dawn. Matt’s sending the jet because he’s a show-off.” Ryan pulled me into a tight hug. “Take care of him, okay? He pretends he’s invincible, but…”
“I know.”
“And take care of yourself. The world Matt lives in—our world—it can be overwhelming.”
“Is this the ‘hurt my brother and they’ll never find your body’ talk?”
Ryan’s grin was pure mischief. “Please. If you hurt Matt, I’ll help you hide from him. Bros before bros, right?”
After Ryan left, the penthouse settled into the kind of silence that five-star hotels spend fortunes perfecting. I showered quickly, then found myself drawn to Matt’s closet. His dress shirts hung in perfect rows, an army of crisp white cotton standing at attention. I slipped one on, drowning in fabric that somehow still managed to smell exactly like him.
The bed felt too big without Matt’s solid warmth beside me, like trying to navigate an ocean with no shoreline in sight. I curled up on his side, breathing in his lingering scent on the pillows. Somewhere below, my workaholic boyfriend was probably glaring spreadsheets into submission and making the Asian markets question their life choices. I could almost picture his “don’t test me” expression—the one that made seasoned CEOs develop sudden and mysterious calendar conflicts.
My phone buzzed.
Ryan:Made it back to my room! Thanks for letting me monopolize your evening. Fair warning—I wasn’t kidding about the memes.
A second later, my screen filled with a cascade of cat gifs.
Me:Go to sleep, Ryan.
Ryan:Never! Sleep is for the weak! Also, Matt just walked past my room looking murderous. Should I be concerned?
Me:Probably for the Asian markets.
Ryan:Poor Asia. Sweet dreams, future bro! Don’t let the billionaires bite—unless you’re into that.
I fell asleep smiling, wrapped in Matt’s shirt and the warmth of belonging, wondering what crisis had pulled him away tonight.
Thirty-Six
