“That’s one of them.” He looks far too pleased with himself. “Also, classical music composition–and biochemistry.”
Sebastian groans. “Fucking show-off.”
I raise a brow. “Okay, so which degree do you actually use?”
“Biochemistry,” he says smoothly. “I’m the head of Oraxone Pharmaceuticals.”
My breath catches. “Oh, my, I moved here because of your drug, Serovac.”
Cyan chuckles beside me, voice lazy. “So technically I owe Collin for us meeting.”
Gabriel grins. “Damn, Col. Maybe you should’ve claimed her first.” My stomach flips.Claimed. Like I’m a business acquisition they could’ve divided up.
Cyan doesn’t even look at Gabriel. He takes a slow sip of wine. “Ridiculous. She was born to be mine.” The way he says it; quiet, certain sends another shiver down my spine.
I gulp and drag my focus to Collin. “I was hoping to get my grandmother into your upcoming Serovac trial.”
He shakes his head. “She’d be outside the bracket. It’s for early-onset memory loss… twenty to fifty-five. Sorry.”
“Oh.” The hope I’d been secretly nursing deflates, small and stupid. Before the lump in my throat can settle.
Cyan’s hand finds mine under the table. It’s warm, and steady. “Dove, there’s nothing wrong with your Nonna,” he murmurs, just for me. “She may not remember you, but deep down, she knows. Pauline says she lights up the brightest when you’re around. Stop focusing on what’s gone. Be grateful she’s still here.”
“Thanks,” I whisper. He doesn’t let go right away. His thumb traces the inside of my wrist, the cold metal of his bracelet rubbing against my skin before he finally releases me.
Gabriel clears his throat. “Okay, no more sad faces. More importantly, why haven’t you asked me about my major yet?”
Jake snorts. “Ignore him, Aria. My brother’s always been an attention whore.”
I can’t help it. I smile. “Alright then, Angel. What did you study? Please tell me it was theology. I’d love the irony.”
Sebastian cackles. “If he studied theology, I’m the fucking Pope.”
Liam snorts. “We’d all be in trouble.”
Gabriel just smirks. “Communication & Media Studies. I handle branding, PR, all the public-image bullshit. Make us look respectable.” Of course he does. The Devil’s own spin doctor, wrapped in angel packaging.
Sebastian raises his glass to me. “I like this chick, C. She reminds me of Gracie, able to roll with the punches.” Thomas’ expression goes rigid, and Lucilla glances down. I don’t miss the way her fingers tighten before she brings them to her lap.Who’sGracie?
Before I can ask, Sebastian continues, “Gabe’s called ‘The Angel’ because he always makes women call out to the Most High.” He waggles his eyebrows.
I roll my eyes. “So, you’re a manwhore.”
Trent is mid-sip of wine when he almost chokes, coughing and laughing simultaneously.
“That’s what your dumb ass gets for trying to drink laughter,” Liam taunts, tapping Trent’s back. The table roars with amusement, including Cyan. Even Collin has the ghost of a fake smile on his face. The only person who doesn’t look amused is Lucilla. Her focus is on the wine bottle. She refills her glass on autopilot. When she takes a sip, her shoulders lower by a fraction, like the weight she’s carrying is pressing down harder than anyone realizes. She finishes the glass in one long pull, then refills it again without hesitation. It’s not indulgence. It’s a coping mechanism. For a moment, I wonder if the wine is the only thing keeping her from splintering right there at the table.
Evie, sweet and innocent, looks up from her plate, “What’s a manwhore?”
Thomas, quick as ever, blurts out, “A guy who’s... a friend to women.”
Evie hums. Rosa, ever the master of distractions, claps her hands together. “Alright, Evie. It’s time for you and Grandma Rosa to watch Gigi Says in the entertainment room. The adults need some time to talk.”
“Yay!” Evie jumps up excitedly, letting Rosa lead her away.
I take a sip of my wine as I glance at Sebastian. “So, Fixer, what did you study?”
“Business management,” he shrugs. Of course, the Fixer has a degree in making things run.
