“Wilson found alist.” I correct before turning the laptop toward Lorenzo as he crosses to the bar. “Most of these are Voss-adjacent. Alpha firms, interconnected boards. Anyone with capital in this area runs in his circle.”
Lorenzo scans the screen, his eyes cataloguing and dismissing in rapid sequence. “Independent firms? Private capital outside the traditional networks?”
“Thin.” I scroll down to the sidebar, hating myself for what I’m about to do but Lorenzo and Oliver have grown on me. I’d hate for them to lose everything when I could have helped. “One name keeps coming up that has the money and the independence from Voss’s orbit.”
My finger hovers over Nicholas’s profile as the cursor blinks beside the photo.
“Nicholas Cavallero,” Lorenzo reads. His brow furrows. “That name is familiar.”
“He does security for us sometimes,” Oliver says, leaning closer. “Tall guy. Glasses. Nice arms.” He glances at me. “He’s been in our bed, Zo—like a year ago.”
“I remember. He was one of the… better Alphas.” Lorenzo pauses. “I didn’t know he had this kind of money.”
“He keeps it quiet.” The words slip out before I decide to say them. Both of them look at me.
“You know him?” Lorenzo asks.
I swallow nervously, knowing I have to give themsomething.No one has mentioned anything since I was in their bed over a week ago, though I’m sure Oliver has figured it out. The fact that Lorenzo hasn’t pressed about it, tells me Oliver never mentioned it to him. I catch myself reaching for my collar and pulling it up before meeting Lorenzo’s eyes.Fuck.
“He’s my ex’s brother.”
The admission sits heavy between us as they both stare at me. I can’t even tell if they’re angry with me for not saying something sooner or if they’re in shock. Oliver’s scent doesn’t even fluctuate. He just tilts his head to the side, mulling over my words. “Your ex,” Oliver says, his eyes flicking to my collar. “The one who—”
Shame floods my expression as my cheeks heat and I tug my collar up. That’s still not a story I’m ready to tell. “Yeah.”
“We’ve had this guy in our bed and we had no idea he was connected to you?”
“There’s no reason you would have. Cavallero is common enough, and Nicholas doesn’t advertise his family.” My voice comes out flat, a mask pulled tight over everything underneath. “But he has the resources. He has the independence from Voss’ network. And he has a reason to say yes if the right person asks.”
Lorenzo's gaze is steady on my face. "That person should be you."
The words hit the center of my chest and something buckles. My hand shoots up to my collar, pressing the fabric flat, the scar burning hot beneath my fingers. "No. I can't—it's not—" My throat closes around the sentence. "We had history but that doesn't make me the right person for this. Nicholas and I haven't spoken in two years and the last time we were in the same room his brother was—" The air runs out of my lungs as the bar top blurs and the taste of copper floods the back of my mouth.
Lorenzo is around the bar before I register him moving. His hands close around my face, palms warm against my jaw, his thumbs pressing into the hinges where the tension has locked everything tight. "Breathe, gorgeous." His voice is low as his eyes hold mine and I can smell rain and honey and the clean fabric of his shirt. "Wilson, breathe. I'm right here."
Air finds its way in. Shallow at first, then deeper, Lorenzo's thumbs tracing slow arcs along my jaw while my lungs remember how to expand.
"I didn't mean to bring anything up." His forehead tips forward until it's almost touching mine. "I can make the call. I'll reach out to Nicholas myself. But not tonight."
Oliver has come around the bar too, his hand resting on my lower back, his scent layered over Lorenzo's wrapping around me from both sides.
"In the morning," Lorenzo says. "After a full night of sleep. Whatever is left on that laptop can wait until tomorrow." His thumbs still against my jaw. "Come up to bed with us. Just sleeping."
The wordjustsits in the air between us. Oliver's fingers trace a slow circle against my spine.
"I have one more thing to—"
"It can wait." Lorenzo's voice leaves no room for argument. His hands drop from my face to my shoulders, turning me gently toward the stairs. "Tomorrow."
Oliver disappears up into the apartment and the bedroom ahead of us, the lamp clicking on, the rustle of blankets being pulled back hitting my ears as we approach. Lorenzo walks behind me with his hand on the small of my back, his touch light enough that I could step away from it if I wanted to.
I don't want to.
The bedroom smells like both of them, just like it did last time, sweetness and rain layered into the sheets and the pillows andthe nest in the corner. Oliver is already stripped down to his briefs, sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching me with those blue eyes of his. Lorenzo's fingers find the hem of my shirt and pause.
"Can I?"
My throat is too tight for words so I nod.
