After what feels like an hour of staring, you give up. The sheets rustle as you swing your legs over the side of the bed. The floor is cool under your bare feet.

The hallway is dark, lit only by the dim, recessed sconces that cast long pools of light on the marble floor. Your footsteps are soundless on the runner as you pass closed doors—Enzo’s study, Silas’s rooms, the silent library.

Halfway down the grand staircase, the quiet breaks. Voices. Low, deep, masculine. The murmur of conversation, punctuated by the soft clink of glass on glass and a low rumble of laughter that doesn’t sound like joy.

You reach the bottom step. The double doors to the main living room are slightly ajar, spilling a warm, amber light into the foyer.

Inside, the room is full of men. Your brothers. And several of their most trusted soldiers. The air is thick with the scent of expensive whiskey and cigar smoke.

Empty bottles and crystal tumblers litter the low table. The men are shirtless, lounging on the deep leather sofas and armchairs. Muscular, tattooed bodies—ink winding over shoulders, across chests, down scarred forearms—make the spacious room feel crowded, dangerous.

They look like predators at rest. But your brothers sit among them like kings on thrones.

Enzo is centered on the largest sofa, back straight, one arm resting along the back. Calm. Commanding. A half-full glass in his other hand.

Kai is sprawled beside him, head tilted back against the leather, hazel eyes half-lidded and bored. A tattoo of knotted thorns wraps around his bicep.

Silas occupies a high-backed chair slightly apart, watching the room with his unsettling, mismatched gaze. He holds a glass but doesn’t drink.

Julian is relaxed in an armchair, a faint, unreadable smirk on his face. The blond of his hair looks almost white in the lamplight.

Liam is at the end of a couch, silent and still, his ocean-blue eyes fixed on nothing.

The room is loud with talk of territories, shipments, problems that need solving.

Then, one of the men by the door shifts. His eyes flick past the doorway, toward the staircase. His smile dies.

The talking doesn’t stop all at once. It unravels. One voice trails off. Then another. Heads turn slowly.

Kai’s bored gaze sharpens and slides toward the door. Silas’s eyes follow. Julian’s smirk vanishes. Liam’s focus snaps into place, zeroing in on you.

Enzo doesn’t turn his head. But his fingers go still around his glass. The room falls into a silence so complete you can hear the ice melting in someone’s drink.