I nodded as she disappeared behind the door and Marcus and Lyle flanked my sides. Plastering on my signature smile, I turned and wrapped my arms around each of their shoulders. They were both so tall that I had to reach up. My little brothers were men. “Hi, I’m glad I made it here for your visit. Val said…”

It wasn’t long after the boys and I were allowed in Mom’s room that Travis knocked and entered. “Mrs. Harrington, I wanted to let you know that I’m right outside.”

“Thank you, Travis.” It surprised me how the tension eased from my shoulders at the sound of his voice. Nothing had happened since I’d left the warehouse to raise my suspicions; nevertheless, with Parker’s promise of friends and the whole Albini-Durante world all happening outside of my bubble, having Travis near eased some of my anxiety. It wasn’t until later, after the boys had left, that my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Harrington, this is Trish from Craven and Knowles.”

I looked at my watch: nearly six. Questions came faster than answers. Where had the day gone? Why hadn’t I heard from Brody? And what had they done to get this stupid woman to work past five? The only answer that came to me was the one to my last question: perhaps she was too busy under someone’s desk to realize the time. Suppressing the smile from my voice, I answered, “Yes, Trish.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry to bother you. Mr. Craven would like you to come to the office right away.”

I glanced at my sleeping mother. “Trish, I’m currently in the hospital with my mother. This is not a good time. Mr. Craven will need to wait.”

“Ma’am, he said it’s urgent. He said it’s about your husband’s will.”

Fucking asshole! My shoulders once again went rigid as my spine grew taller. What the fuck was his deal? After exhaling, I conceded, “Fine, tell Mr. Craven I’m on my way.”

“Yes, Mrs. Harrington. And…”

I waited; finally, making no attempt to hide the irritation in my voice, I asked, “And what, Trish?”

“I don’t think Mr. Craven is feeling well. If you could hurry—please.”

I couldn’t have suppressed the smile if I’d wanted. “Perhaps he’d like to reschedule.”

“No, I asked him and he said this was urgent.”

“I’m on my way.”

Gathering my things, Travis and I started down the long corridor toward the elevator. We were almost there when I noticed two men standing to the side of the hallway talking. As soon as the younger one turned, I felt the rush of déjà vu. He was someone who I knew, or had known. My mind searched as I unsuccessfully tried to look away. When he turned, our eyes met. Immediately, I knew that I was seeing my brother. The ramification made my stomach twist. I no longer saw the handsome young man I’d dated. There was so much more.

“Victoria?” Wesley’s voice echoed through the hallway, deeper than I remembered. As I scanned him up and down, I assessed that he too had indeed matured from a boy to a man. His dark hair was now tamed and trimmed, and his shoulders were broader. He’d grown up well, and even more handsome than I remembered. I had the sensation of looking at Marcus and Lyle as I’ve seen them over the years. There was nothing remotely sexual about my feelings toward this man. The fact that I’d ever had those types of feelings made me slightly nauseous.

Travis and I both stopped walking at the sound of my name. As I kept my expression in check, I innocently replied, “Yes?”

“You’re Victoria Harrington?”

“I am.” I allowed my eyes to widen. “Wesley? Wesley Albini?” Through my peripheral vision, Travis grew inches taller and suddenly broader. Without a word he’d made his presence known.

“When my uncle asked me to…” Wesley shook his head. “…I’ve been out of the country, and I didn’t realize.”

My head tilted to the side. “Niccolo is your uncle?”

“Yes, he asked me to watch you.” Wesley nodded toward Travis and extended his hand. The two men silently shook, until Wesley turned back to me. “I can see you’re in good hands. We didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise. It’s just that when my uncle asks, there’s usually a good reason.”

“I’ve learned it never hurts to have an extra layer of protection. Please tell your uncle I said thank you, and I hope this won’t be necessary for long.”

The taller man beside Wesley turned. He was older and very looked very distinguished. His fine black hair had a hint of gray. The family resemblance to Niccolo was undeniable. My heartbeat quickened as I looked into my father’s eyes for the first time. You were never supposed to be born. My mother’s words rang through my head. Extending his hand, my father said, “Mrs. Harrington, it is a pleasure.”

I gave him my hand and replied, “I’m sorry? Have we met?”

He bowed slightly, with my hand still in his, and kissed the top. “Mrs. Harrington, it is I who should apologize. Your husband was very important to our family. I was wrong not to have introduced myself to his lovely wife before his sad passing.” Releasing my hand, he continued to speak, sincerity emanating from each well-planned word. “I’m sorry for your loss. I was at your husband’s funeral when I saw you for the first time. You were with your family.” His dark eyes softened. “It wasn’t until I saw your mother…” He shook his head. “…I didn’t want to intrude.” Squaring his shoulders he said, “Mrs. Harrington, I am Carlisle Albini.” He glanced toward Wesley and lightened his tone. “It sounds as though you know my son.”