Chapter 46

46

Knox

I tuck my wife into my side. She has her hands locked together and has barely spoken a word since we left Claire's place.

An hour after I left, she messaged me and said she was ready to go. When I arrived to pick her up, she and Claire hugged.

Both women had tear-stained faces, but there seemed to be an understanding between them. The meeting, and whatever they spoke about during it, hopefully began the process of healing for both of them.

They promised to keep in touch, and June invited Claire to dinner at our place. She said she'd also invite Irene over. She'll call to confirm a date for some time soon. Then she patted Bruno, and we left.

Once inside the car, I open my arms, and she comes into my embrace willingly. She doesn't say anything, and I let her be. It was a long and emotionally testing day, and I know she needs time to recuperate. So, I hold her close, kiss the top of her head, and stare at the passing scenery. When the car eases to a stop in front of our apartment block, I look down to find she's fallen asleep. When the driver opens the door, I step out with her in my arms. She doesn't move as I carry her inside and to our private elevator, then up to our penthouse. I remove her shoes and her skirt and pull the covers over her. Then, not yet ready to sleep, I walk out into the living room and prepare to pour myself a drink.

When the security app on my phone signals there's someone at the door to the apartment, I stare at the face on the screen. Ryot? What's he doing here? He's the most silent of my brothers. He also doesn't want anything to do with the Davenport Group.

He's chosen to forge his own way and has made it clear to Arthur he doesn't want anything to do with the family fortune. So, to have him call is not an ordinary occurrence. It's the only reason I allow the elevator doors to open on my floor. He stands there with a scowl on his face.

"Ryot," I say by way of greeting.

He glares at me but stays silent. No surprise there. I gesture for him to come in. He stomps past me toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that cover one side of the living room, and stares at the lights of the city outside.

"Care for something to drink?"

He folds his arms across his chest.

"I take it, that's a 'no'?" I eye him warily. "What are you doing here?"

"You're an asshole," he says by way of greeting.

"Thanks?" I respond, half amused, half pissed-off. If it were any of my other brothers, I tell them to fuck off.

But with Ryot… Considering he never wastes his words, when he speaks, you listen.

"If you were in my place, you'd realize how lucky you are. If you saw what Michael's going through, you'd realize how fortunate you are to have everything."

"How is Michael?" Michael Sovrano is a friend of ours who lost his wife a few months ago. He went into a tailspin and dropped out of sight. "I heard from Connor that he decided to move back to Italy?"

Ryot nods, then lowers his chin. "I met him, briefly, before he left."

"You did?" That's news to me. "I didn't realize Michael had spoken to one of us before he left."

"He needed my help," he says simply.

Ryot, too, lost his wife. Like him, she served in the Marines, though in a different platoon. Her entire team was wiped out when they were in enemy territory. The grief was too much for him. He left the Marines shortly after.

"So, Michael's okay?"

Ryot grunts. "As okay as can be expected, considering."

"Hmm." I rub at my whiskered chin.

He widens his stance "But I'm here to talk about you and how absolutely asinine you are in not recognizing what you have."

"And what's that?"

"Have you told your wife that you love her?"

I fold my arms across my chest. It's a classic defensive position, but what-fucking-ever. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"You love her, but knowing what a wanker you are, I'll bet you haven't told her."

I draw myself up to my full height. "That's my personal business."

"No, that's all our business."

I growl, "I hate that we've always felt it's our right to get into each other's personal space."

His features soften a little. "It's all we had when our parents decided they had no time for us, or have you forgotten?"

I incline my head. "You're right. It was the only way we could put up a united front against Arthur," I say in recollection. "Gramps was always a mean ol' bastard. We knew, even then, the only way we could guard against his dictatorial ways was to stick close together."

Ryot's expression grows more vulnerable. "Of all of us, you and I are most alike."

It might be the fact that we're the ones who seek control the most, as well as the ones who rebelled the most. Which means, we had to stick up for each other and save each other from Arthur's wrath the most. But Ryot's right. I nod. "We have a bond that runs deeper than what we share with our other brothers…" I agree.

"It's why I know that you haven't told her you love her."

I rub the back of my neck. "I need a drink." I head toward the bar and pour myself a tumbler of Macallan. I toss it back. The alcohol burns its way down my throat and sets a fire in my belly.

"If you knew what I go through every single day." His voice reaches me. "If you knew how, every time I close my eyes, I see her face. What I'd give to speak to her one more time and tell her that I love her… You wouldn't be dicking around the way you are right now."

The hurt in his voice, the anguish of knowing he'll never again be able to tell his wife those three words, reaches out to me.

If anything were to happen to June… If I lost her, knowing I'd never told her about my true feelings for her, I'd never forgive myself. Ryot, and what happened to his wife, is a reminder I'm wasting time. I'm fighting with imaginary devils. My wife, clearly, is stronger than me—she had the courage to face her own. She wanted to do it on her own; that's how bold she is. Meanwhile, me? I've been dicking around, as my brother so eloquently put it.

I might be dominant, but when it comes to facing my own feelings, when it comes to telling her those three words, I haven't been able to do it.

I pour another splash of amber liquid into the glass and, holding it, turn to him. "How did you guess?" I murmur.

"That you haven't told her your true feelings?" He heads toward me and joins me at the bar, leaning a hip against it. "Because I know you well, brother. I know you're as stubborn as me. That you're as pig-headed as me. That you don't know a good thing when it smacks you in your face. Given how you hurried into the wedding, I had no doubt, you did it because you have feelings for her."

I level a disbelieving look at him. "Didn't it cross your mind that I did it to fulfill Arthur's condition and to keep my role as CEO?"

His lips twist. "You and I both know; Arthur doesn't have that much influence over us. Sure, our brothers might have kidded themselves with that, saying that's why they married their wives. But they also did it because they fell in love."

I stare at him, dumbfounded.

He gives me a look that conveys his opinion— You knobhead. He rolls his eyes and continues, "No matter, it took them a while to admit it. And it's not a big jump from there to conclude you did the same thing." He reaches for the bottle of Macallan and pours a little into a tumbler. "It's why I came here, to tell you not to squander the chance you've been given." He looks down into his glass.

I take in the hardness of his features. The lines around his eyes. The grey at his temples, which wasn't there before. He's suffered since his wife's death. And clearly, he's been working out even more, for he's become a behemoth.

"Thanks," I murmur.

He raises his glass. "I know you'll do the right thing. You?—"

"Knox?" My wife's voice reaches me from the doorway.