“Ah, but shouldn’t you be here for that? I mean, that is the point, right? All of this will be yours someday.” Anthony snorted, his glass slamming to the small table beside the chair.
“Maybe so,” Leon threw over his shoulder, fingers curling over the jamb as he turned towards the staircase. “But it’s not my business just yet. I’m sure you can explain your actions to his satisfaction without my help, brother.”
Pushing away from the entry, Leon took the stairs two at a time. Not rushing, but eager to be upstairs and then gone. He had one piece of business in this house today, and it had nothing to do with his brother or father.
Knocking on the third door down the hall, Leon smiled at the soft, feminine voice bidding him to enter.
“Leon!” His mother rose from her rocking chair by the window, sailing through the room to wrap her only son in a tight hug. Grumbling as her hands felt his back and waist, she pulled away with warm brown eyes narrowed. “You’re too thin! A boy your size needs to eat, Leon.”
“Hello to you, too, Mom.”
“To what do I owe this rare pleasure?”
“Don’t act like I wasn’t just here Tuesday.” Leon grinned, taking his mother’s arm for the few steps back to her seat. Arranging his bulk in a far too small slipper chair nearby, he patted her hands.
Regina Marchetti was still beautiful, and not just the image colored by a son’s love. Thick brown hair brushed back from her face, there was only a light sprinkling of silvered hairs fanning from the temples. The ever present laughter around hereyes was just well worn and comfortable now, no matter how many expensive creams and tinctures she used to make the fine lines disappear. Even now her figure was stunning, and Leon wagered there were far younger women who envied that. Only he and his father really knew that she tortured herself to keep it.
“But you’re not here to see me this time, either, are you?” Regina’s prim red lips tightened, the elegant arches of her brows crashing down before she remembered herself. Fixing a far more neutral façade on her soft features, she sighed and tipped her head to one side.
“Mom, please?—”
“Marjory was perfectly acceptable. Her name was worth more than some crude talk about her, and from that wretched girl no less! I cannot believe you called the whole thing off because of that.”
“I understand, but?—”
“Your claim over that territory is nothing if you have no one to leave it to, Leon. It is your children’s birthright, but you have to have them first. You’re running out of time.”
“I’m not that old, Mom.”
“No, but children die. People take them away and you never see them again. There are forces against you, my son, and you do not have an endless supply of time. Don’t pretend that you don’t know that.”
“Just tell me about her, Mom.”
Regina sniffed, casting a baleful glare at Leon before she picked up her knitting. Concentrating on thesnicking-clickof the needles for the remainder of the row to the long shawl, Leon thought she might have finally reached her limits.
“Delilah Crawford, you know her, she’s mated to that ridiculous Ferro boy. At any rate, she told Bridget that that girl is traipsing around the city with just a single Beta guard. That Irish man that’s always with her. Doing Gods knows what, but she was seen going in and out of consignment shops, and evenwaiting in the car while her guard went into an actual pawnshop! Can you believe that?”
“Why would she?—”
“Well because whoever it was that did it is throwing her out into the streets, Leon. Why on earth would they let her stay?”
“But she’s a Costanzo.”
“Are we talking about Elena?” Anthony bumped the door the rest of the way open with his shoulder but remained in the entryway. Even he didn’t dare disregard their father’s rules about entering an Omega’s rooms. Invited or not, only their mothers were allowed to see them in private.
“Anthony,” Regina murmured by way of greeting, turning her eyes back to the working needles.
“What’s it to you?” Leon stood, instincts demanding he protect his mother with a step toward Anthony.
“Nothing at all, big brother.” Anthony rolled his shoulders, easing his weight from the jamb and starting down the long hall. “I just saw her. She looked a mess. Guess Valente didn’t die soon enough, eh?”
“What?”
“You didn’t know?” Anthony’s brows bounced, dark gaze sliding to Regina and onward to Leon. “I’m sure there’s a reason for that. Not my place. Second son and all that.”
“Mom, what is he talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Regina whispered, tugging on Leon’s sleeve when he took a step forward.
