A talk between brothers

The clink of whiskey glasses echoed softly in the large, dimly lit study. The room smelled of aged leather and cedarwood, lit only by the soft glow of the table lamp and the occasional flicker of the fireplace. Sebastian poured two glasses from a decanter and handed one to Leonardo, who sat on the leather couch with a relaxed posture.

“That was some dinner,” Leonardo said, chuckling as he took a sip.

Sebastian leaned against the edge of the table, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He held his glass loosely, his sharp eyes following the amber liquid as it swirled. “Yeah,” he muttered, “Rosita and Rebekah… if looks could kill, we’d have had a bloodbath tonight.”

Leonardo laughed. “They’re intense, man. And your fiancée has a mouth on her. Didn’t know she had that much fire in her.”

Sebastian smirked. “She’s full of surprises.”

There was a beat of silence before Leonardo raised a brow, shifting gears. “So, business—how are things going with the Eastern investors? I heard from Gregor that they were getting cold feet.”

Sebastian nodded, taking a slow sip before replying. “They were. I had to send the contracts back with a few adjustments, loosen the clauses on capital control. They want a way out in five years, not ten.”

“Typical,” Leonardo muttered. “Short-term gain.”

“They don’t see longevity the way we do,” Sebastian said. “But it’s handled. Signed and sealed as of this morning.”

Leonardo raised his glass. “To you, then. The ice king of negotiations.”

Sebastian gave a short chuckle, then his expression shifted as he studied his drink. “I’m thinking of putting Rosita on the Marcelli charity board.”

Leonardo blinked. “Really? That’s a bold move. You think she’s ready for that?”

“She’ll figure it out. She’s smart, even if she pretends not to be. And besides… it’ll piss Rebekah off.”

Leonardo smirked. “You are wicked.”

Sebastian’s smile faded slowly. He looked into the fire for a moment, the shadows dancing across his chiseled face. Then Leonardo leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“Can I ask you something?”

Sebastian gave him a small nod without looking.

“Why Rosita?” Leonardo asked. “You swore off marriage. Hell, you used to say you’d rather be eaten alive by wolves than wear a ring. So what is it about her? What made you change?”

Sebastian was quiet for a moment. He tilted his head back slightly, eyes half-lidded, as if searching the corners of his mind.

“She’s…” he started, but paused, searching for the right words. “She’s different. Not the kind of woman you expect to draw attention, but somehow, you can’t look away once you do.”

He walked to the side cabinet, poured himself another drink, and continued.

“She’s pitiful… in that way that makes you want to protect her. Not weak, no. But there’s a weight in her eyes. Like life has always been unfair to her and she never complained. She’s innocent—she doesn’t even realize how much she’s endured. She isn’t particularly beautiful—not in the way people write sonnets about—but she’s real. And every fucking cell in me wants her.”

Leonardo watched him, intrigued.

“And you know,” Sebastian added, his voice low, “I never let go of something I want.”

Leonardo chuckled, taking another sip. “That, I’ve known since we were kids. You don’t share your toys, or your empire… I guess that applies to women now too?”

Sebastian didn’t laugh this time. He stared down into his glass. “She said something to me. In the garden, few minutes ago. I can’t forget it.”

Leonardo leaned back. “What did she say?”

Sebastian took a long breath, the memory playing out in his mind like a vivid film reel.

“She stood there, arms wrapped around herself, looking so small. And she said—‘I want freedom. I want to be with someone who sees me. Not just someone who touches me when it suits them or throws me into fancy dresses like a doll.”

He paused. His fingers tightened slightly around the glass.

Leonardo was silent, visibly taken aback.

Sebastian downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down. He looked his brother in the eye, something raw glinting behind his calm exterior.

“I remember every word. And that’s why… never,” he said softly.

Leonardo exhaled slowly. “You’re in deep, huh?”

Sebastian didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

Leonardo stood and walked toward the shelf of cigars. He picked one, clipped it carefully, then turned slightly, changing the subject.

“Her father… I still can’t believe that man calls himself a pastor.”

Sebastian scoffed. “He sold her like a sack of rice. And to me, of all people. I was his way out. A deal he thought would benefit him—but I think it’s going to ruin him.”

Leonardo lit the cigar and puffed lightly, the smoke swirling into the air.

“Men like him shouldn’t have daughters. If he could throw one away so easily, he probably did worse when no one was looking.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement. “Rosita told me she tried to run away once. He found her hiding in the church storehouse and locked her in the prayer room for two nights. No food. No water.”

Leonardo’s eyes darkened. “That’s twisted.”

“He said it was spiritual cleansing,” Sebastian added with a bitter laugh. “But it was punishment. Control.”

Leonardo walked to the window, looking out into the night. “She’s lucky she ended up here then. As strange as that sounds.”

Sebastian’s voice was a murmur. “Yeah… even if she doesn’t believe it yet.”

There was a pause. Then Leonardo smirked again. “So what now? You gonna tell the world she’s yours?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Already did, didn’t I? Next week. Press gets the story Monday.”

Leonardo raised his brows. “That fast?”

“Why wait?” Sebastian replied. “If I’m going to keep her, I might as well make it permanent.”

Leonardo gave him a long look. “You ever plan on telling her you care?”

Sebastian poured himself one last drink. “Eventually. When I’m sure she won’t run.”