He looks like Adrian. Same dark hair, same sharp features. But there's something different about him. He's lighter, less burdened.
He sees us and stands, a genuine smile crossing his face.
"Adrian," he greets his brother before turning to me. "Andyou must be Seraphina." He extends his hand. "I'm Luc. The disappointment of the family."
"Luc," Bianca's voice is sharp. "Sit down."
He does, but not before winking at me. Like this is all a game.
I take the seat Adrian pulls out for me. Directly across from Gemma, who gives me a small, sympathetic smile.
"Seraphina," Bianca says, her voice formal. "Welcome to your first family breakfast as a Nero."
"Thank you." I feel ill.
"I trust you slept well?"
The implication is clear. Everyone at this table looks at us, and I try not to roll my eyes. Adrian squeezes my knee slightly, and I'm guessing he doesn't want me to reveal how we didn't have sex.
"Very well, thank you." I keep my voice neutral.
"Good." Bianca gestures and staff appear with food. Elaborate. Excessive. "We have much to discuss about your role in this family."
I glance at Adrian. He's watching his mother with barely concealed irritation.
"Mother," he says. "This can wait until after Sera and I talk."
Bianca's eyes are sharp. "Seraphina is now a Nero. She needs to understand what that means."
"I'll explain it to her."
"Will you?" Bianca takes a sip of her coffee.
The tension between them is palpable.
"Perhaps," Gemma interjects quietly, "we could just enjoy breakfast? Sera is smart. I'm sure she'll figure it out."
"Excellent idea," Luc agrees. He looks at me. "Besides, we should get to know our new member." Luc turns to me, his smile soft and easy. "So, Seraphina. Adrian tells me you work with rare books. That must be fascinating."
"Please call me Sera," I say. "I do." I feel a twinge of excitement.This is the first time someone has asked me about me. Not about the baby or dictated anything to me. It's refreshing.
"You'll be quitting," Adrian says flatly.
The words hit me like a slap. "Excuse me?"
"You don't need to work at that store."
"I want to work. I enjoy my job."
"Not happening."
I feel my temper rising. "You can't just decide that."
"I can. And I have." He cuts into his food like the conversation is over. "We'll discuss it later."
"There's nothing to discuss," I snap. "I'm not quitting."
"Seraphina." His voice drops. Warning. "Later."
