A knock sounds once, then Diego opens the door without waiting. Tomasso walks in behind him.
I look between my brother and my son.
Both of them look far too serious.
That has my attention before either of them speaks.
“You found him,” I say.
Diego closes the door. “We did,” he says carefully.
I sit back.
Tomasso’s eyes flick briefly to Diego.
My patience thins at once. “Speak.”
Diego slips both hands into his pockets. “It would be better if everyone were here.”
“For what?”
“We’d rather it be said only once,” Tomasso says.
“Everyone should be here within a few minutes,” Diego says. “We called ahead.”
I look between them.
It's one of the rare times that Tomasso says nothing sarcastic.
That is what convinces me.
While we wait, Tomasso moves to the window, arms crossed, gaze on the city. There is a stiffness in his shoulders that reminds me too much of myself at his age and too much of myself now.
Whatever they found, he does not like it.
Lorenzo arrives first, as usual. Ricardo follows thirty seconds later with his phone still in his hand and his expression already annoyed.
“What?” Ricardo asks.
I glance at Diego. “Apparently, we are waiting for a fuller audience.”
Lorenzo’s gaze moves from Diego to Tomasso, then settles on me.
He says nothing. He does not like this either.
Alessio and Edoardo come in together, having been in the building already. Dante arrives behind them, silent, watchful, his eyes moving first to Tomasso, then to his father.
“You got here quickly,” Ricardo comments.
“I took Julia out to lunch,” Dante says shortly. “I dropped her off a few minutes ago.”
“Where is Matteo?” Edoardo asks.
“He is on an errand on the other side of town,” I say.
“Great,” Alessio mutters.
Matteo finally enters with his coat still on, his hair wind-touched, expression composed except for the small crease between his brows.
