Focus, cabrón.
Carina idles up from behind, her steps barely making a sound. There’s some irritating voodoo shit harmonizing her presence with my bloodstream. I sense her closeness simply by the vibrations we share.
“When will I meet your family?”
Silence thickens between us while I study the perfect arch to her raised eyebrows. “Tomorrow. At the funeral.” I drag a hand over my face and dodge her body on my way past. “Don't leave this room.” My teeth grit at the command. “I’ll be back later.”
Ignoring the burning ache in my dick, I put more distance between us. She doesn’t rush after me or ask any more questions, and I don’t look back before leaving the room.
Knots in my belly snarl and squeeze. Getting close to her was a mistake. And listening to the tragedy that formed the woman she is today was a massive error. I shouldn’t care how she lived in a darkness so bleak it almost stole her life. Nor should I feel the insurmountable rage that implores vengeance for every cruel motherfucker involved in crushing her confidence.
I jog down the stairs, pumped for a fight and ready to face my family. Moving through the corridors, I hear my brothers’ rowdy voices—family banter that hasn’t graced these walls for a long time.
We each have duties to perform and our own lives to live. These days, all four of us are seldom together in the same room and it’s even more rare we’d be together in this place.
“Wow, we’re honored you could make it, Tommy.” The eldest of the twins by five minutes tips his glass at me and smirks. “What time do you call this?Mamawent to bed already.”
André slouches on an oversized couch, his knee jiggling up and down. He wears his usual biker jacket and lazy grin. Ringed fingers tap a crystal cut glass, excess energy buzzing from his seated position.
I stalk further into the informal room where they all sit, skirting the table crammed with dishes prepared by the new chef. Hot food makes my stomach growl, and my thoughts cut back to Carina. I'll take a plate upstairs later. She hasn’t eaten since we’ve left Bogotá.
“Dré.” I nod at him. “I drove from the city to clear my head. Shane and I had business to sort out before I left. There’s still no evidence pointing to Blanco as Papá’s killer.”
A brief silence settles among us. It’s a beat of remembrance—good and bad.
My kid brother, Matheus, bounces to his feet and barrels into my personal space, diving in for a hug. “Well, if it isn’t the king himself. You okay, Tommy?”
“I’m good,” I say half-heartedly, unsure of how the hell I’m feeling.
I’m hit with a rush of cologne up my nose and brotherly brawn. He might be a few years younger than me, but he still matches me in height and strength.
Matheus is the over-educated Souza with kick ass brain cells. The twins had teased him for years, telling him our mother injected his fetus with a genius serum bought off the black market. Once he’s a practicing lawyer, he’ll head the Souza legal team. Then we’ll truly be unstoppable.
“How’re those college girls working out for you?” I wink.
He’s a good-looking, horny son of a bitch. With André’s influence, the guy parties just as hard as he studies.
“Who has time for college girls?” He jabs my shoulder and laughs. “I’m too busy with finals.”
“Right.” I cock a skeptical brow at his bullshit. “So you weren’t in Vegas with Dré a few weeks ago?”
“That was a one off weekend,” he muses, eyes sparkling with mischief. His private jet is always in the air. “You should have joined us.”
“Maybe next time.”
It’s not that easy for the next in line to step away from business. He’ll never understand the responsibility I’ve inherited. Not that it stops me from letting loose. That’s what Carina is for.
I’m crossing the room to reach the second twin, Giovanni, when André saunters over and hands us both a shot glass of tequila. “Salud!”
“Salud.” We clink glasses and throw back the liquor together. “I’m glad you’re here, Gio.”
I grab his outstretched hand and pull the lean fucker into my chest. He goes rigid at my unusual show of affection. Having him here, in this house, with hard memories, is a miracle. Since Papá died, I’ve realized these guys are all I have.Familia. My loyal three brothers and the backbone of our unit—mama.
Gio’s green eyes tip to meet mine, the shade so pale I’d swear he’s supernatural if I hadn’t grown up beside him. He’s the only one of us who has our mother’s eyes. With his jet black hair and secretive jade gaze, he’s every bit an Irish mafia grandson.
“Tommy.” The corners of his mouth curl into a friendly smile. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah. That’s because you’re a fucking recluse.”