She shakes her head and hisses out a breath between her teeth. “We can’t. Apollo is working with him on some deal for the business. They’re expecting to close over Christmas.”
“But that’s a month away. You want me to keep this from them for another month?”
She nods. “We have to. If Apollo knows, he’ll lose his shit. And he’s petty enough that he’ll fuck up this deal on purpose then regret it the next day. You know how committed to the family business he is. We can’t let him detonate his dream in a moment of anger.”
I don’t like it, but what she’s saying makes sense. All four of us have the capacity to be hotheaded and lash out at any given time. If he blows up whatever the fuck he’s working on for Papá, for whatever wing of the business he’s been entrusted with now, it won’t end well. Then, he’ll resent us for having told him and fucking him up in the first place. She’s right that we have to wait.
“Do you talk to him, this Mathias guy?”
Her cheeks pink as she nods. “Sometimes. Not very often. He has other siblings, I have other siblings, and neither of us were really in a position to go any further than the occasional check in over text.”
“I get it. When Thiago approached me at school, I called him a liar and chased him away. I feel so guilty, Hen. He was so fucking excited to have found me, to be talking to me, and I threw him away. Just like Papá did.” The words jam in my throat like an ice ax in the side of a cliff.
Athena takes my hand and squeezes. “We’ll figure this out, okay? Together.”
Her confidence in our ability to take on our family issues and win is admirable, but we’re outgunned. “Do you think there are more?”
Her mouth pulls into a thin line. “Until today I thought Mathias was the only one. Now…” She whistles. “I dunno, Ares. If there are two, there is a real chance there could be more.”
I don’t know what to do with that. How do we find them all? Do we even want to? What would we do when we found them? Do I want to meet them?
Too many questions. I want to rip my skin off, climb out of my body, and leave. Everything’s too hot, too tight, and I can’t keep up with the questions whirring around inside my brain.
Why would he do this to us? To Mamá?
“I hate him.” The words are out before I can stop them. To her credit, Athena doesn’t flinch. She barely bats an eye.
“I’m not his biggest fan right now, either. But he’s our father, and once we’ve calmed down we can figure out what we want from our relationships going forward. Right now, we need to protect Apollo from this for another month until the ink is dry. Then the four of us will figure out what to do next.”
She walks to the window and stares out over the backyard.
We have a plan, a direction. I might not like the situation we’re in, but it’s better setting a deadline to tell the boys. Hell, it really does feel lighter having shared it with Athena, even if it crushed a piece of her spirit. There might be something to that old saying after all.
“Athena?”
She turns back to look at me.
“Do you think Mamá knows?”
When her face turns sad, it’s like a blade to my chest. “The wife always knows.”
She takes my hand and leads me back downstairs. Eloise is chatting to Abuelita on the sofa, cradling a mug of something between both hands. Artemis sits close by, quiet, listening, watching, chiming in once or twice.
I don’t know what they’re discussing, but my girl looks tired. Maybe she needs to be rescued, taken home, and put to bed with a nice cup of tea. Tea is good for sleep, right?
“She’s darling.” Mamá’s voice is quiet and next to my ear.
My throat is clogged with emotion so I can’t answer, only nod. I don’t think I ever expected to be this guy. The relationship guy. The guy whose girl laughs and hangs with his family. And yet, this feels so right I can’t ever imagine how I was able to survive so long without it.
“Will you be needing the ring soon, Ares?”
I smile at how well she knows me, how she can see that Eloise is different, how she’s my end game, how in such a short time, she’s already become my whole world. Mamá has three rings, one for each of Papá’s male offspring. The rings are kept in a safe until we need them to propose to our future husbands or wives.
I almost choke on my saliva. Because there are now at least five male heirs to Alonso de la Peña’s fortune.
Because of some time-honored sexist bullshit, Hen doesn’t get a ring. But my brothers and I vowed a long time ago that if we liked the guy we’d all pitch in to help him buy a ring worthy of our ethereal sister.
Shaking my head, I answer Mamá’s question. “I don’t want to spook her.”
