Page 40 of Daddies of the Underworld

It was Matto asking questions that threatened to break down doors I had bricked over years ago.

It was all three of them at dinner, always in my thoughts when I woke and when I tried to sleep.

I had fallen into something stronger than lust.

Something that would hurt to lose.

By the time we returned to the villa, I couldn’t stop smiling.

Luca drove us through one of the private entrances and helped me from the car.

We were grinning over our plan for surprising Dante with the dick soap when a guard approached.

He stopped several feet away. “Miss Russo?”

My head snapped around. They never said my name. Never addressed me at all. “Yes?”

Luca took up a protective stance slightly in front of me.

The guard didn’t much more than blink at us. “There’s someone at the gate asking for you by name.” He glanced toward Luca, then back to me. “He says his name is Marco.”

Everything stopped.

Marco.

I moved before Luca could stop me, following the guard toward the small receiving room at the end of the hall.

“Nina.” Luca caught my elbow. “Who is Marco? You need to be cautious instead of rushing in there.”

“Marco is my brother. If you’re worrying about whether it’s him, I’ll know that as soon as I see him.” I tugged my arm free. “I won’t be foolish, Luca, but I haven’t seen my brother in years. I can’t risk scaring him away.” My heart climbed into my throat with every step toward my brother. Maybe it was a mistake, but I had to go. I had to see.

The guard opened the door. “You can see him here, verify his identity as required, before you go through.”

I took a single second to scan the small room, one wall made of what looked to be one-way glass.

Then I saw Marco on the other side, and I flew through the small side door.

Marco stood in the middle of the room with a backpack slung over one shoulder and sweat darkening the collar of a worn shirt. He looked thinner and older.

His hair stuck up at odd angles. But it was him. And his smile broke free when he saw me. “Nina.”

The sound of his voice nearly broke me. I crossed the room and hugged him. “Marco.”

He held on hard enough to hurt, arms locking around me like he was fifteen again and we stood in the hospital hallway swallowed up in grief.

He was alive.

For one ridiculous second, that was all that mattered. Then I pulled back and held his face in my hands. “What are you doing here? How did you even know where I was?”

His gaze flicked to my shoulder, and I turned.

Luca stood in the doorway, every bit of warmth gone from his face. Dante stood behind him, silent and lethal. Matteo was there too, his face blank.

Matteo swallowed hard. The boy I’d raised was replaced with a man who lifted his lip in a curled sneer. He shook it off and took my hand. “I needed you.” His smile slid back into place, quick and charming. “And because I’ve been impossible to reach. I’m sorry. I should have called first.”

“You should have called months ago.” I bit the words out, not fooled by the grin that always worked better on strangers than on me.

“You’re right.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been moving around. Naples, then Bari. Some construction work, then in the kitchens. Whatever paid. You know how it is.” I did, but that didn’t soften the edge of anger that he’d let me worry about him for so long without even a phone call.