Page 7 of Chris

Again, no.

It wasn’t his life, his home, or his bed.

Simple as that.

And he didn’t want other people discussing it where Corrado, Alessio, or Ginevra weren’t around to be a part of the discussion. Good manners, and all.

Right?

“Besides, if there’s something you want to ask Corrado,” Chris told Marcus, “then you could, oh, ask him. Or Les—he’s pretty open to talk.”

Marcus blinked. “Probably not.”

“Then, don’t speculate.”

“That’s fair,” Gian said, jumping into the discussion as the phone on his desk rang. He gave his two sons a look, pointing a finger at both, a silent quiet,before he picked up the call, and put the phone to his ear. “Bonjour, ciao, Gian here.”

It took Gian just long enough to hear who was on the other line before he reached over, hit the speaker button on the phone, and set it back down to the cradle. The voice that filled the office was one Chris hadn’t heard in a while, and he still wasn’t sure how he felt when he heard it.

A mixture of things, he supposed.

Only a couple of them any good.

“Do you have a minute to chat, Gian?” Dare asked.

“A few—two of the boys are here.”

“Which ones?”

“Marcus, and Chris. What can we do for you?”

Chris never asked for details about how his father came in to contact or all the finer details of Gian’s business with Dare—no one seemed to be aware of his last name—but somehow, he had. Gian ended up as one investor who fronted a lot of cash to finance a business venture Dare and his partner now controlled.

They called it The League.

An organization which trained assassins, like his brother, Corrado, and then sold them at an auction to the highest bidder. Sure, The League also had their own teams of assassins that worked only for The League, and independent contractors, again, like Chris’s twin, and one of Corrado’s lovers, Alessio.

But mostly, they made real money in the auctions. Selling skilled individuals who could kill someone in a hundred different ways on demand.

Chris had been one of those people once—he trained with Corrado because fuck, he couldn’t imagine leaving his twin to something like The League without someone there to watch his back. He’d always looked after his twin.

The League wasn’t for him, and he realized that rather quickly, but he stuck out his contract. He did the one-year training, stayed for another year to work on a team with his brother and the others they had placed him with, and then he came back home at nineteen.

He wasn’t like them.

Chris wanted to be a made man.

And so, he did.

“I have an issue,” Dare said, “and I thought getting your opinion on what I should do about it might help to clear up my thoughts, Gian.”

“Do tell.”

“A job came in. The client isn’t new, or rather, the family isn’t.”

“Who?”

“New York—Marcellos.”