Chapter 157: The Evil Mastermind and His Extremely Suspicious Husband

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Dante Castelli stepped out of the car looking like he’d just received a personal insult from the morning sun.

His dark coat fit him perfectly, his dark hair was styled just right, and his face carried that expression that said if anyone greeted him too enthusiastically, they might as well be declaring war.

Two bodyguards followed closely behind, scanning the courtyard like professionals, while Dante barely glanced at the gathered family before zeroing in on the man at the front of the reception line.

Lorenzo.

My husband stood with his hands tucked in his pockets, dressed in a dark coat that made him look less like someone welcoming his brother home and more like a man preparing to negotiate the sale of a small nation.

His expression remained charmingly composed. When Dante approached, he even flashed a small smile.

"Welcome home, brother."

I nearly choked.

Home?

The fuck...?

This was the same brother who had spent years treating Lorenzo like a constant reminder of everything he despised, and yet Lorenzo greeted him like a long-lost relative carrying an expensive Christmas gift.

Dante’s mouth tightened. "Don’t pretend you’re happy to see me."

Lorenzo’s smile stayed in place, though I could see his jaw twitch just slightly.

"I’m glad you’ve arrived safely."

"How touching."

"I try."

I squinted at them.

Something was definitely off.

Lorenzo could pull off polite when he wanted, flip that damn switch and become someone else entirely...but this felt different.

His politeness had that theatrical flair, like he was performing for an audience he neither needed nor cared about.

He was far too agreeable, especially considering his older brother might have had something to do with an incident that almost cost me my life.

The whole act was suspicious.

And it seemed like I was the only one who picked up on it.

"What was your journey from Italy like?" Lorenzo asked, as if they were discussing the weather over tea.

"Fine."

"Good. I assume you had no trouble along the way."

Dante shot him a cold look. "Are you going to ask about every single road we traveled, or are we going to talk about why you brought me here?"

"There’s no rush. You’ve only just arrived."

"I’ve been in the plane for hours, Lorenzo. I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting like a ridiculously cheerful hotel manager."

"Then I’ll do my best not to disappoint you."

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing.

Lorenzo’s expression was so perfectly polite I was half-convinced he was enjoying ragebaiting his elder brother with his kindness far more than he should.

Dante, on the other hand, looked one polite greeting away from blowing a gasket.

Before Dante could retort, the rear door of the second car swung open.

A small figure climbed down with the help of one of the guards.

Emil.

The now four-year-old stood next to the vehicle, wide, uncertain eyes taking in the courtyard, tiny hand gripping the edge of his coat.

He looked overwhelmed by all the people waiting for him and his father, hanging close to the guard, unsure whether he should greet everyone or simply stand there until someone remembered he existed.

Then his eyes landed on me and his whole face lit up.

"Mommy!"

Oh, for heaven’s sake.

I barely had time to brace myself before Emil came running across the courtyard, little shoes tapping quickly against the stone.

I sighed inwardly.

Here we go again with the mommy shit...

Apparently I had been elevated to the role of honorary mother without a contract, salary, or even a proper interview.

But the moment he reached me, I caved, then bent down and scooped him up.

"Hey, what’s up, Kiddo?"

Emil wrapped his arms around my neck, burying his face against my scent gland with a happy little sigh.

Didn’t Italy have Omegas?

Why was this kid really into my scent for Christ sakes?!

Despite my best efforts to remain a sensible adult who understood the risks of getting attached to children in this family, my heart melted.

He smelled faintly of soap and the sweet scent of a young omega.

His tiny fingers curled into the back of my shirt like he’d been waiting all morning to see me.

"I missed you, Mommy," he murmured.

I closed my eyes for a moment.

"That’s sweet, little man. I missed you too, but we really should talk about your habit of calling me that..."

Emil lifted his head and grinned at me. "Mommy."

Gazing into those big brown eyes, I realized one thing.

"Great. I’ve been defeated by a four-year-old."

A few of the staff members smiled, but the atmosphere shifted the second Dante’s voice rang out across the courtyard.

"Emil...Come here. Now."

The little boy immediately buried his face back into my neck.

Dante’s expression darkened. "Did you not hear me, boy?"

Emil tightened his grip around my shoulders. I instinctively adjusted him in my arms, turning slightly away from Dante to support his legs.

"He’s comfortable here, Dante." I said calmly. "Give him a moment."

Dante stared at me like I’d just hurled an insult in his direction.

"I wasn’t talking to you."

"And yet you managed to speak loudly enough for the entire estate to hear you. Impressive."

His eyes narrowed.

"Put my son down, Omega."

I glanced at Emil, who had settled against me like he was fairly certain this was a much nicer spot than whatever awaited him with his father.

"Does he want to go to you?" I asked.

"He’s my son."

"Yeah, that’s not what I fucking asked."

The courtyard grew noticeably quieter.

Several guards were trying very hard to look anywhere but at the two men arguing in front of them.

Dante’s face was growing increasingly unpleasant, and I could almost hear Lorenzo’s patience wearing thin somewhere behind me.

Dante stepped closer, his gaze flicking between Emil and me with clear disdain.

"Don’t encourage his behavior."

"Maybe you should try asking him what he wants instead of barking orders at him."

"Alex," Lorenzo said, speaking gently.

I looked his way.

"What? I’m having a perfectly civil conversation here!"

"Of course you are, my love."

Lorenzo’s amused tone was not helping my urge to stay calm.

"Then tell your brother to take a chill pill, the hell?" I countered, rolling my eyes.

Dante looked ready to explode, but before he could say anything else, I noticed something that bothered me even more than his rudeness.

He genuinely appeared unable to stand looking at me.

There was no warmth behind his contempt, not even a flicker of recognition or curiosity that might suggest he gave a shit about me beyond my connection to his brother.

If Dante really had been the one behind the attack in Paris, the man who had wanted me alive for the sake of creating an heir or whatever...then his current reaction was hard to reconcile with that idea.

Of course, people were complicated. I’d met enough dangerous men to know that appearances could be deceiving.

Still, I couldn’t shake the contradiction.

Before tensions could escalate any further, Lorenzo stepped in, placing himself between us like a man trained to diffuse a room about to explode.

"The chefs have prepared a proper welcome dinner," he announced, facing Dante. "You should freshen up before we sit down. We can have dinner together like we used to when we were still a complete family."

For the first time since stepping out of the car, Dante fell silent.

Something shifted in his expression at the mention of family.

His gaze flickered briefly toward the main house.

"It won’t feel the same without them," he muttered.

"No," Lorenzo agreed softly. "It will not."

His voice had lost some of its theatrical politeness.

For a moment, I could see something real pass between the brothers, a grief neither seemed eager to confront.

"Our parents left three sons behind," Lorenzo continued. "I doubt either of them would be happy seeing us still at each other’s throats after everything that’s happened. I hope that by tonight, we can finally clear up a few things."

Dante studied him with suspicion. After a long pause, he nodded curtly.

"Fine. I’ll join your dinner."

"Excellent."

Dante turned toward the entrance, then paused long enough to ruffle Matteo’s hair as he walked by.

Matteo recoiled with a noise of offense. "Do that again and I’ll break every one of your fingers, brother."

Dante’s mouth twitched. "Still charming, I see."

"Still irritating, I see."

"Good to know some things never change."

He continued inside, his guards trailing closely behind, leaving the courtyard buzzing with quiet whispers from those who had just witnessed a family reunion best described as anything but heartwarming.

I watched him vanish through the doors before turning to Lorenzo, who had returned to his usual composed demeanor.

Still holding Emil, I leaned in closer and whispered,

"What the hell are you planning, Dracula?"