I’ve been so consumed with thoughts of Stephanie, I hardly paid attention to the road.
But by some miracle, I managed to make it back safely.
That is, until I open the garage to pull the car into its waiting bay—only to find Miko, Sandro, and Raf standing there, waiting for me.
Miko’s collection of pristine vehicles is one of the few things we salvaged from our family estate after the Tanakas burned the place to the ground, and they gleam innocuously beneath the bright lights as I pull in, silent witnesses to the conversation that’s not going to be pretty, judging by my brothers’ faces.
Killing the motor, I drop the keys into the cup holder before stepping out of the Volvo with a sigh.
I close the door behind me, bracing as I turn to face Miko and the twins.
“Where have you been all night?” Miko growls, his blue eyes icy with fury. “You didn’t think it might be wise to check in—considering this city is crawling with people who want to kill us and you never bothered to mention you were leaving?”
I snort. “What are you, my mother? You could have called if you were so worried.”
“You left your phone by your computer,” Raf cuts in. “We figured that out by about the fifth call.”
Oops.“Sorry. I… lost track of time.” I do genuinely feel bad if they’ve been worrying about me, and I scratch the back of my neck as I come to stand in front of them.
“Doing what, exactly?” Miko presses, Sandro scowling silently beside him. “If I recall correctly, you’re supposed to be the only brother I shouldn’t have to keep a close eye on to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid.”
“Hey,” Raf objects, his eyes snapping in Miko’s direction.
“Oh, don’t even get me started. I got an earful from Don Augusta the day you showed up at the house, a wedding ring on your finger and an ex-stripper on your arm. Not that I could have stopped you from eloping, but I’m pretty sure that responsibility still landed squarely on my shoulders.”
Raf doesn’t argue, and my brothers’ fury returns to me as they reform their united front.
“So? Where were you?” Miko demands. “I think you owe us an explanation at the very least, considering you’ve all but disappeared off the face of the earth this past week.”
“Not to mention you’ve seemed completely indifferent to our plans for revenge lately,” Raf piles on, his tone sharp with resentment. “You’re supposed to be the new Chiaroscuro Don, and it seems like you’ve gone on vacation.”
I nod. “You’re right. I’ve been… distracted. And you deserve to know why. You might want to sit down for this,” I suggest.
But my brothers simply cross their arms, waiting impatiently for my reason.
“Stephanie’s alive.” The truth comes out hard and blunt, but I don’t know how else to drop what is most assuredly a bomb.
My brothers look stunned, their arms slowly dropping back to their sides as they stare silently at me.
But the intense relief that washes through me as soon as I tell them makes the rest tumble from my lips before I can stop it.
“I stumbled upon her walking downtown a couple of weeks ago, and I followed her home.”
“You’ve been stalking her?” Raf clarifies, his intelligent eyes sharp as he studies my face.
I nod. “Stalking her, lying to her—now sleeping with her without telling her who I really am—because I just couldn’t stay away…”
I swallow down the guilt, dropping my gaze as I scrub at the back of my neck, and silence stretches heavily between us as my brothers wait for further explanation.
“She has amnesia. Woke up in the hospital eight years ago with no inkling of who she is or how she got there. And when I found her… she didn’t recognize me. At first, I thought she changed her name to hide from me.” Shaking my head, I drag my eyes back up to look at their faces, expecting to find horror, disgust, shame.
Instead, all three of my brothers look genuinely sympathetic, their anger replaced with rare understanding.
“She’s alive,” Miko repeats in disbelief, and I nod. “Damn, man. That must have been… a lot to wrap your mind around.”
“You okay?” Sandro asks, catching me by surprise.
As a family, we might spend a lot of time together. In a sense, we’re about as close as brothers can get, but we don’t make a practice of talking about our emotions.
