“You don’t have to say anything. You’re my family.” He sets his hands on my shoulders. “Once your designs gain momentum, we’ll talk about opening an exclusive shop on the island. But it all starts here.” His gaze bores into me. “Are you ready to work your ass off to make it happen?”

“I’m ready.”

“I thought you might be.” His lips tilt up in a carefree smile. “I’m hoping you’ll be ready for the Fashion Festival in Los Angeles this November. I’ve already cleared it with Tatum.”

“Tatum is from…?” I cycle through the faces stored in my memory, trying to recall the two men whose zodiac signs overlap in November.

“The House of Sagittarius. He’s also a pilot. Tatum agreed to fly you there during his month, if you’re prepared by then.”

Happiness floods my system, bubbling in my chest before erupting into a smile on my face. Before I give it a second thought, I wrap my arms around him. “Thank you.”

He stiffens before slowly returning the hug. “You’re welcome.”

We break apart moments later, both trying to ignore the resulting awkwardness brought on by my spontaneous hug.

He tilts his head toward the seating area. “How about that conversation I promised you?”

It seems like days since he promised a conversation about my mother’s journal, but in actuality, it was during yesterday’s lunch that he hinted we still needed to talk. We take seats across from each other, and he settles into his signature pose with his hands clasped between the spread of his knees.

“You read the journal?”

“I did. It wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“You weren’t expecting your father to be in on the affair.” It’s a statement, not a question, and I answer with a shake of my head.

“Thank you for calling him my father.”

“A father is more than DNA, Novalee. It’s being present in the middle of the night, wiping away tears after a nightmare. It’s wiping your own away because seeing your child in pain hurts you just as much.”

“You’ll be an excellent father.”

“I’m hoping to be an excellent brother too.”

I send a cursory glance around the room. “You’re excellent in the gift department.”

Something passes between us then—a smile, a shared secret, an understanding.

“I’m almost a decade older than you,” he says, “and I know how the intricacies of power and greed work. I need you to trust me and follow my lead. I will protect you.”

My eyes narrow as I try to decipher his expression, because I’m positive he’s not referring to his fellow members of the Brotherhood.

There’s another threat. I’m certain of it.

“What are you protecting me from?”