In fact, the first years after leaving the orphanage were hard on all of us.
I ran away many times. I deliberately caused trouble just as often, trying to be returned—to go back home. Not to the hellish walls of the orphanage, but to my brothers.
It took a long time and immense patience on Lysandra’s and Konstantino’s part for me to understand that they had truly chosen me—and that nothing I did would change that. I could resent the opportunities suddenly being poured at my feet after years without options, or I could embrace them.
I chose the second.
The five years I spent away from all of them—because my parents wouldn’t allow me to keep in contact and I was still a minor—were the hardest of my life.
On the day I turned eighteen, I went back to the orphanage. It was the first time I’d seen my brothers in a very long time.
I brought a cake that wasn't for my own celebration, but for theirs.
Because every experience I’d had over the previous years had never been lived without me first promising myself that they would live it too. The birthday cake was the first of those promises fulfilled.
There were no parties for us at the orphanage. At best, a cupcake with a single candle Rosa brought in from the street so we could singHappy Birthdayin secret.
After that day, I kept coming back. And every time one of them reached adulthood, I took him out of there.
First the twins. Two years later, Drako.
And despite my parents’ reluctance to understand that my bond with my brothers wouldn’t end when my time at the orphanage did, it was the education Lysandra and Konstantino gave me—and the doors the Zanthos name opened—that allowed me to do it.
They raised me as their son from the moment I stepped into this house. Giving me the best of themselves and the best the world could offer. Overnight, I had everything—and I clung to it fiercely.
I studied. I became responsible for the family businesses. And I gave Apollo, Atlas, and Drako opportunities that, without my parents, they would never have had.
Today, all my friends are as formally educated as I am, and each of them runs his own business.
I financed the beginning of each one, of course. But years have passed since every coin I invested was paid back. None of the three stopped until every last cent of what they owed me had been returned—even though it was never required.
And that wasn’t the only thing the Zanthos family gave me by adopting me.
They gave me the chance to ensure that no child in Khione would ever go through what I did.
That is the association’s primary role: to follow, support, and protect.
Which is why I change the subject.
“How is the lunch planning going? Do you need anything?”
“You’re not going out, are you?” my mother asks, clearly ready to remind me that I promised I’d be here.
“Only later. But if you don’t need me until the guests arrive, I’ll be in the office.”
She nods, satisfied with my answer, and steps closer, finally lowering her defenses.
“I just need you here,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist.
I kiss her forehead.
“Good morning, Nero,” she finally says—prompting a laugh from me.
Priorities, right?
CHAPTER 10
NINA MARCHESI
