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He parked near the main entrance and stepped out, the cold biting immediately through his coat. Snow collected on the shoulders of his jacket as he crossed the short distance to the door and used his key to let himself inside.
Instead of meeting his father in the Blue Library, however, he followed the muted light spilling from the kitchen at the back of the house. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when his eyes landed on his mother. The kitchen was immaculate, as usual, its marble counters wiped clean, nothing left out except a single mug near the sink.
Jules Farina stood at the island with her back to him, pouring tea into a mug. She wore a tailored sweater and slacks, even at such a late hour, with her hair pulled back neatly.
“What you still doing up, woman?” he questioned, moving further into the kitchen.
She turned, pinning him under an intense stare. “I know you didn’t think I’d be sleeping when my baby finally decided to come home for the first time in twelve years.”
Cassius chuckled deeply as he pulled his mother into a hug.
“Umph,” she groaned as he tightened his hold. “You’re hugging me like you miss me, yet it took dissension in the family to bring you back home,” she fussed, swatting him away. “And don’t think I don’t know that you saw Mars first.”
He didn’t bother asking how she knew. Jules Farina always knew everything.
“Don’t do that,” he fussed. “You act like I haven’t seen you in years, when you were at my house every chance you got.”
“Because I knew visiting you was the only way I’d lay eyes on you,” she pulled back, gripping his shoulders and searching his face. “You okay? Your father won’t give up all the details about what’s going on, but I know it has to be heavy if it brought you home.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I’m going to holla at Pop, but I wanted to check in on you first.”
“Okay,” she squeezed his hands, then retrieved her tea. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Leaving her where she was, Cassius exited the kitchen and continued down the hall to the Blue Library, the room where his father usually held all of his business meetings. Pausing at the doorway, he surveyed the man who was his mirror, albeit older and more distinguished, before knocking against the frame’s thick wood.
“What’s up, Pop?”
Armond looked up, an unreadable expression covering his face when his eyes landed on Cassius.
“Welcome home, son.”
The words, though meant to be welcoming, landed like a heavy blow in Cassius’ chest.
Low murmurs rippled through the room as Aella Torrisi stood tucked in a corner of a private hall in the Original Torrisi Distillery. Winter clung to the windows in pale frost, turning the glass into a sheet of white that reflected the warm amber glow inside. Observing the perfectly polished floors, towering racks of barrels, and soft golden light reflecting off the Frostfire, the latest release in Aged Creek Whiskey’s Winter Reserve series, bottles displayed on velvet-draped tables, she released a long breath and relaxed her shoulders.
The task of crafting, marketing, unveiling, and launching the newest addition to her family’s already extensive bourbon line had been a test that she hoped to have passed with flying colors. Her family had founded Aged Creek Whiskey eons ago, and she hoped to finally convince her father to turn the reins over to her. Becoming CEO of her family legacy had been her dream for as long as she could remember, and she’d spent years trying to sway her father into believing she was ready for the title and prepared for everything that accompanied it.
He’d finally caved and made a deal that if she could flawlessly execute the Winter Reserve unveiling, then it was hers.
“Make yourself the family favorite, why don’t you?” Her sister’s voice found its way to her ears as she approached with a bourbon neat in hand.
“I know that better be Frostfire in that glass.”
“Like I would dare drink anything else on my sister’s big day,” Ilaria nudged Aella’s shoulder with hers.
“Mmhm.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Nervous. I keep turning over every detail of the night to make sure I didn’t forget anything.”
“You didn’t, Elle. Trust me,” Ilaria reassured her. “And on the off chance you did, who would notice? The event is beautiful, you did an amazing job, and I need you to relax and enjoy it.”
Aella wished she could, but with so much on the line, relaxing was at the very bottom of her list of priorities.
Her sister chuckled while snaking an arm through hers. “I can see you aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, so let’s go grab a shot to calm you down.”
“Ria, I can’t—”
