Page 31 of Drowned in Gold

“Usually a bubbly and personable person like you wears their life on their sleeve. When Marco said paintings, I thought he meant like in school or something.” Castor struts over and plants a disarming kiss on my cheek that nearly melts me on the spot, then gently drags out the art station so he can see it again. “Are you limited to landscapes?”

My brow furrows. “N—no. They’re just what I’m best at, I think.”

A part of me still holds onto a little dream of mine. This girl I knew in high school made a business on Etsy selling her crotchet, and she did well enough. So I thought maybe, just maybe, I could sell my stuff on there too. Make a business out of it.

Imagine if someone hung a landscape in their living room with Gia Castellano scribbled under it?

But there’s no way I’m good enough yet.

“You should think about selling these. I think they’d make a killing.”

“Psh. You’re just being nice to get back in my pants.”

“When have you known me to throw needless pleasantries? I’m serious, Gia. These are badass.”

I feel bashful all of a sudden. “I did always want to try…”

“How would you feel about designing me a piece of jewelry? You know, since you didn’t like the one I made you.”

I narrow my eyes and flip the collar of my shirt to show I’m wearing it. “Hidden, remember?”

That would be pretty cool, though. A jewelry designer? Hell yes.

Castor smirks. He takes a strong step to be standing over me. His cologne is weak after rubbing all over each other, which leaves only his warm musk that I want to fall asleep in. “You wear my signature, because you belong to me.”

“Do I, now?” I stare at him, feeling ants tickling my belly.

“That’s how I’d like it to be,” he admits.

Something is off about his tone though. He pulls back, sucking away all of the giddy butterflies with it. I know what this is about.

“But it can’t be, right?” A fiery sensation pools in my chest. “Your loyalty’s to him.”

“He’s my brother in all but blood.” He turns to the couch and plops a seat.

Do I even want this in the first place? He’s a damn capo for God’s sake. I’d be running straight into the arms of everything I’ve been trying to avoid.

One look at his pearly blues diffuses me like a bomb, though.

I scoff and grab the apron off the floor in the hallway. It’s a miracle there’s no paint on the floor. Castor’s blazer on the other hand…

“And what’s so terrible about us together? He trusts you more than anyone, no?” I call from the other room.

“You don’t understand. It’s a matter of respect.”

“Sometimes attraction holds no bounds, Castor.” I’m getting hot again just thinking about the mind-blowing sex we just had, which is combating with a deeper connection he keeps letting slip past his cold gaze, sending me into emotional tail spins.

I pace into the living room, noting the show New Girl is on mute. Castor isn’t saying anything. Just staring at the floor in thought.

“Castor?”

“He’s onto me, Gia. And soon, he’ll be onto us.” He peers up at me. “If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s sniffing out inconsistencies.”

“Aren’t you his boss?” I throw my arms out. “Just put him in line, or something.”

“The bond we share transcends rank. Why do you think I put up with a strung out hothead all these years later?”

The way he’s so calm about the wedge between us infuriates me. “Why don’t you let me handle my big brother, if you can’t?”

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