“She is, but I guess when you grew up with someone you tend not to see them the same as others do.” I was evading, but enough people seemed to have guessed how I felt about Lucrezia.

“I thought you had three brothers?” Poppy’s constant questioning was starting to irritate the last nerve I was working with.

“I do, but I spent every summer in Tuscany with Xavier and Jordan. Lucrezia lived there with her sisters.”

She opened her mouth to ask another question. “Poppy, I would appreciate it if you’re going to have sex with my brother that you at least close the curtains or turn off the lights.”

She stared at me for ages. “How do you know that I—”

“It was on the gossip pages with my name on it. I’d been called away on business that night, so it definitely wasn’t me. Maybe we should call it a day and you go home?”

Her jaw tightened. “I can’t. One of the other girls is using my apartment at the moment.”

“Fine,” I snapped. “Stay as long as you want, but no window sex with the lights on.”

“What happened to you?” Poppy asked, her tone low and hurt.

“Honestly? I think I finally grew up,” I admitted. “For once in my life, someone else is more important than me.”

Poppy stared out the window. “She’s a lucky girl,” she replied.

“Who?”

“The woman who owns your heart.”

That was it in a nutshell. Lucrezia owned every part of me until I was useless for anyone else.

I dropped Poppy off at the apartment, not bothering to get out of my car since the charade had come to an end. She could phone Aaron for all I cared, because my dick was down for the count where she was concerned.

The townhouse was too quiet, the walls almost staring at me in accusation, and I couldn’t even face going into the kitchen. Her bright utensils still lurked in the cupboards and drawers, ready to jump out and assault me with memories when I least expected it.

I poured a glass of scotch and downed it in one mouthful. My phone sounded in my pocket.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“I’m bringing everyone in tonight,” Xavier said. “Michael just crossed a line.”

“What the fuck now?” I asked. “I’ve only been gone less than an hour.”

“He decided that he wanted to know why men were, and I quote, ‘Being led by their dicks around by Lucrezia.’ He has sore balls right now and wandered off when Lucrezia came to get us.”

“Motherfucker,” I grated out. “I’ll see you soon.”

Dad had access to our trackers—well, he thought he did. My original tracker had been removed a while ago and lived in a keyring that I carried around with me or left wherever I wanted him to think I was. Michael didn’t have that luxury. Add to the equation that I hacked Dad’s system a while ago, and Michael was about to be paid a visit.

I threw my suit on the bed and dressed in black hooded jacket and combat trousers. His tracker showed him at Dad’s townhouse, which was a ten-minute jog from here. It would help get rid of some of my temper before I ripped his head off and shoved it up his opinionated ass.

Michael lounged in the good reception room that Mum insisted no one was to use, a bottle of whiskey beside him, and a glass in his hand.

“I thought it would be Jordan who arrived,” he said casually.

“Jay has better things to be doing with his time than teaching someone like you manners.”

He glared at me. “I fucking hate that you’re the eldest.”

“Yeah, I got the memo, still doesn’t change shit.” I was done talking to him. He thought Dad would protect him, that I wouldn’t touch him. He was wrong.

Michael squealed when I grabbed him and threw him against the wall, pinning him there with my hand around his throat.