Chapter 5: Interesting  

Renato's POV:

I caught him on instinct more than intention, one arm hooking under his shoulders before his skull could meet the floor, and for a second I just stood there with him slack against me, blood on his knuckles staining my sleeve, that ridiculous grin still ghosting at the corner of his mouth even unconscious.

So my kitten had teeths, and a temper. And absolutely no sense of self-preservation.

I looked down at the  men scattered across my floor and decided none of it was urgent enough to interrupt what I was currently holding.

"Clean this up," I told the manager, without looking away from Felix's face. "Whatever they want to say happened, let them say it. Just get them out before he wakes up."

"And the one who's not moving?"

"Ambulance, if he needs it. Quietly." I adjusted my grip, pulling Felix more securely against me. "I'll deal with the rest of it tomorrow."

Nobody argued with me. Nobody ever did.

I carried him out through the side entrance, past the valet who had my car pulled around before I'd even finished descending the last step, and settled him into the passenger seat with more care than the situation strictly required. His head leaned against the window. Blood had dried thin along his cheekbone, and even like this there was something about him that made it very hard to look away.

I reached over and brushed a strand of hair off his forehead. He stirred, eyes cracking open just enough to find me in the dim light of the dash.

"Renato," he mumbled, like my name in his mouth was the most natural thing in the world, like four years of not knowing it had never happened.

"Go back to sleep."

"You smell good." His hand found my thigh, slow and unthinking, fingers curling loose against the fabric of my pants. "You always smell good."

"Careful," I said, low and amused. Despite myself, I caught his wrist before his hand could wander anywhere more interesting. "You're not sober enough for what that'll start."

"Don' care." His eyes were already sliding shut again, but his mouth curved, slow and pleased, like he knew exactly what he was doing even half-conscious. "Kinda want you to anyway."

I allowed myself to indulge in this, leaning across the divide between the seats, close enough to feel his breath, close enough that he made a soft, hopeful sound in the back of his throat but instead of his lips I pressed a kiss against his temple. 

"Later," I murmured against his skin. "When you'll remember it."

He made a small, disappointed noise and went under completely.

My phone rang before I'd pulled out of the parking lot 

“Grandfather”

I let it ring twice before I answered, glancing once at Felix, his peaceful face in the passenger seat. 

"Yes."

"Come to the house." No greeting. There never was one. "Tonight. It concerns the arrangement."

"I'm occupied."

"Renato."

Something in the old man's tone told me arguing wasn't going to buy me anything but a longer conversation later. I looked at Felix again, he was out cold, breathing slowly and even, utterly unbothered by the decision I was about to make on his behalf.

I should have taken him home. Left him tucked into his own bed with a glass of water and a note, the way I would have with anyone else.

But I didn't.

I turned the car toward the estate instead, some part of me unwilling to hand him off to an empty apartment while I still didn't understand why I cared whether he woke up alone.

---

The Ryu estate rose out of the dark the way it always did the gates first, then hedges, then the house itself, imposing in the particular way old money insisted on being imposing, like architecture could substitute for relevance.

I left Felix in the car, doors locked, the heater humming low to keep the chill off him, and went inside alone.

My grandfather was waiting in his study, a glass of scotch already poured, an expression carrying the same weight it always did when he had something inconvenient to say and intended to say it plainly.

"Sit."

"I'll stand." I said in a flat tone 

He didn't push it, he never did, with me. That was the strange privilege of being the grandson nobody had actually planned on, the one who got to stand instead of sit, argue instead of comply, because the real weight of this family had never been meant to land on my shoulders in the first place. That had been my Brother's job, before the accident took the choice away from all of us five years ago and left the old man scrambling for a replacement he'd never wanted to need.

I'd inherited the title. I'd never once pretended to want it.

"The Luciano alliance is finalized," he said, going straight to the point “The marriage will proceed within two months. I need you prepared to meet your intended, when the introductions are arranged."

"Fine."

He studied me, clearly expecting more resistance than that. "You don't care."

"Should I?" I turned toward the window instead of him, already thinking about the man asleep in my car, the way he'd said my name like it belonged to him. "I told you years ago I'd do the family's duty when it was asked of me. I'm not going to pretend I have some grand objection saved up for the occasion."

"That's unlike you."

"Everything about this family is unlike me." I said it without heat, the same flat, tired honesty I reserved only for him. "Send me the details when you have them. I have somewhere to be."

He let me go without further argument, which was its own kind of win on my part, the old man choosing his battles the way he always did with me, carefully, and only when he thought he could win.

——

Felix hadn't stirred by the time I got him back to my apartment, hadn't so much as shifted when I carried him up. I laid him down in my bed for the second time in one day and pulled the blanket over him like it was already a habit I didn't remember starting.

It hadn't even been five hours since I'd watched him slip out that same door wearing my clothes.

Five hours. And here he was again, bruised and reeking of whiskey, back in my hands like the day had never let either of us get very far apart at all.

I stood there a moment longer than I should have, watching him sleep off a hangover, a fight, and whatever recklessness had driven him into my bar in the first place.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. An email, forwarded from my grandfather's assistant, subject line short and clinical.

*RE: Intended — Photo & Profile Attached*

I glanced once more at Felix who was deeply asleep and utterly unaware of the timing of any of this, then opened the file.

I read the name at the top. Read it twice.

Something slow and sharp curled through my chest, equal parts disbelief and something considerably more dangerous.

"Interesting," I said quietly, to no one, and reached for the cigar I hadn't touched all night.

I took a long drag, let the smoke curl up toward the ceiling, and looked back down at the man asleep in my bed like the universe had just handed me a very complicated joke.