Page 112 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 1-4

A knock sounds on the door. My fingers tighten into a fist.

“Enter,” Alessandra calls.

A man strides in, barely restrained anger radiating off his large frame. Taller than Rafe or me, with thick shoulders and a tense jaw. The only thing that confirms he’s a by-product of Lucifer’s numerous affairs is the eyes.

Pale blue and snapping with fury as he sweeps his gaze over Rafe, then me, then Alessandra.

His step falters. Just a moment, but I see it. My head snaps between him and Alessandra. But she doesn’t bat an eye. She simply regards him with a professional expression bordering on bored. Maybe he’s surprised by Alessandra’s stunning looks.

Or maybe he’s just a misogynistic idiot like his father.

“Mr. Drakos.” She stands and offers her hand across the desk. “Thank you for joining us.”

He eyes her hand like it’s poisonous.

“My name is Sullivan.” His voice is gravelly. “Not Drakos.”

“Don’t know where you’re from,adelfós,” I say casually, “but it’s usually polite to shake someone’s hand.”

Michail’s head swings around. He stares daggers at me. I give him a small smirk in return. Wit is a weapon I wield well.

A weapon and a shield.

“Who the hell are you?”

I settle deeper into my chair as my smile grows. “Your baby brother. Shall we hug, or does the occasion of our reunion warrant a familial kiss on the cheek?”

He snarls. The man actually snarls.

“Boys.”

Alessandra’s voice rings out, icy enough to quell even my humor. She starts to turn away. Michail’s hand stabs out and grabs hers, his mammoth fingers swallowing hers in a tight grasp.

“Sorry, Miss Wright.” Michail’s voice comes out strangled, as if he can barely choke out the apology. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Then why are you here?”

Rafe finally speaks. Cold, with a thread of steel woven through his words, as usual. The man isn’t known for his warm and fuzzy feelings. But the one thing he does care about? Drakos Development. If he sees Michail as a threat, God help our half brother.

Michail releases Alessandra’s hand and stalks over to a window on the far side of the room, then leans casually against the glass with America’s most populated city at his back.

“My reasons are my own.”

Alessandra sighs as she eases into her chair.

“If you’re all done seeing whose is bigger, let’s proceed.”

She shoots me a glance that tells me to keep the joke on the tip of my tongue to myself. I respond with a wink, which nets me another roll of her eyes and the tiniest quirk of her lips.

“Gentlemen, I will now read your father’s final will and testament. Please reserve any questions for the end.”

Any trace of humor disappears. I stay reclined, keep my slight smile. But inside I’m coiled tight. I know I’ll survive, no matter what the will says.

But losing my life’s work will be like a death. Unlike my mother, who preferred her own grief to raising her son, and my father, who cared too much about himself, Drakos Development gave me something back for the work I put in. The hours I put in, the research, visiting properties, uncovering what it was my sellers coveted and putting their dreams within reach as I netted sale after sale, all of it came back to me. Wealth, prestige, recognition.

It’s filled the void left by my parents’ neglect. It’s been the one thing I’ve been able to rely on my entire life.

Well, aside from the fact that Lucifer could yank it away at any moment.

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