Page 12 of Heir of Fire
EIGHT
FINN
Maybe bringingover coffee and pastries was overkill, but the last time Finn had talked to Luna, he was quite possibly the worst fucking brother in the world. To be fair, he had been in a shitty headspace. And to be fair, he still was in one. But she did have him kidnapped and brought back home, so really the entire situation was complicated.
He still needed to use the arena, which was under the Vitali name. Valerio wouldn’t allow it until Luna forgave him, so if coffee and pastries could warm her heart, he would try it.
Getting past the gates was a hassle on its own. The guards patted him down as if he was smuggling something under his T-shirt, but he knew it was strict orders from Valerio to have him roughed up if he ever showed up again. They spared no expense checking his ID, looking into his shoes, his pockets, even opening the fucking coffee cup.
At least the money on the security detail was being well spent.
Finn knocked on the front door, waiting a second before it was pulled open. It wasn’t a maid or any of the staff he was expecting to see so he could build up some courage. Instead, it was Valerio.
Of course, he had been alerted about Finn’s presence.
“Could I interest you in some muffins?” Finn asked.
“I have a sniper aimed at your head waiting to unleash on you at my word. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t give him the signal,” Valerio said, his voice menacing.
“I’m here to apologize.” Finn held up the food in his hand. “I have her favorite pastries, and I would hate for her to go hungry all because you won’t let me in.”
“She’s never gone hungry with me, and she never will,” he spat out. “Your apology is long overdue. I wonder what finally brought you to your fucking senses.”
Finn clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to say something that would land him a bullet to the head. “I made a mistake, okay?”
“Mistakes are accidental. What you said to her was geared with every intention to hurt.”
The asshole was right. He did want it to hurt. Finn wasn’t denying that, but he was here to apologize now.
“Val? Where are you?” Luna’s voice called out from somewhere in the house.
Immediately, Valerio tensed. “If one fucking bad thing comes out of your mouth, I’ll kill you,” he hissed, finally letting Finn into the home.
He resisted rolling his eyes and followed Valerio, who led him into the kitchen. Luna sat on a barstool, looking like she had just rolled out of bed still in her pajamas and her hair messy. It had to have been nearly eleven in the morning at that point, but then again, she was never a morning person.
Hearing their footsteps, she turned around, but her smile fell immediately. “What is this?” she asked.
Valerio walked up to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “He came to the door, begging and crying.”
Finn stood there for a minute, not sure if he should move. Even though Valerio was the Don, it was clear who controlled everything. Luna commanded a power he had never seen from her before, especially not after the life they’d lived with their father.
She had always been muted, not literally, but she might as well have been. The Luna he knew before was never sure of herself, always crippled by her own mind overthinking the worst possibilities. This Luna was different. He hated to admit it, but it had to do with the death of their father and the addition of Valerio in her life.
Why hadn’t the death of their father impacted him in some grand way that actually helped him?
“I brought those strawberry Danishes you like from that one cafe in the city,” Finn said, holding up the bag. “I also got you an iced coffee, which is now more room temperature because it’s been thawing in my hand all morning.”
Luna looked at him suspiciously. “Why?”
Valerio stood behind her, giving Finn a hard look that reminded him of the threat from earlier. He sighed. “Because I’m sorry. I’m an asshole, though I’m sure you already knew that.”
“I did.” Still, she patted the seat next to her at the counter. “Might as well enjoy what you brought even though your apology doesn’t mean anything.”
He took the seat, handing her the bag and the drink. “I didn’t mean any of it.”
“Which part? That I’m exactly like our father for forcing you home?”
“Yeah, that part.”
