Page 40 of Born Free

This isn’t about blood.

This is about choice.

Some families are the ones you choose.

Roman and I are a family now.

For just a fraction of a second, Orlando’s eyes flash red as they slide over to me. I wonder if Roman realizes what he’s just done. He’s made me the main reason why Orlando will never have his brother return to their homeland.

“You’re a doctor,” Orlando says, addressing me directly for the first time tonight. “Can’t you fix his brain? Can’t you make him remember who the hell he is?”

This guy is getting under my skin. I tend to have a short fuse, and he’s burning through it way too quickly.

“I’m afraid not,” I say, lying on the fly. “We’ve run tests, and from everything we can see, the damage is permanent.”

There’s a shift in Orlando’s eyes. And I see something like grief and relief and anger flash through them all at once.

He had hope.

Until I delivered those words—lies, he had hope that he would get his brother back someday. And I just crushed that.

“Did you kill Santiago?” Orlando asks. And panic instantly rips through me at his sudden change of direction into a lane we haven’t discussed how to handle. “The two of you disappearing at the same time is no coincidence.”

“Yes,” Roman answers. He doesn’t hesitate. There’s no apology in his reply.

“I assume he deserved it?” Orlando questions, though from his tone, it doesn’t sound as if he really cares.

“He did,” Roman answers before changing the subject flawlessly. “Things will never go back to the way they were, Orlando.” His tone is calm, and I think I detect just the smallest hint of compassion in it. “We’ve gotten out on a rocky start, but in time, I’m willing to give this another try. For now, I think you should go home. You have a region to attend to.”

“And you truly don’t want it?” Orlando asks, narrowing his eyes at Roman. “You’ve at least been a part of this world, even if you couldn’t remember before, for twenty-four years now. You know the system. You know the roles there are. And even with all of that, you don’t want the crown? The House?”

Confidently, Roman shakes his head. “I’m happy with my life here.”

There’s a hurricane of emotion going on inside Orlando’s head. His eyes may as well be windows. Anger. Betrayal. Hurt. Disappointment. Relief. Confusion. Those eyes slide over to me, and I wonder how much he hates me right now, how much he blames me for his brother not wanting to return to Spain.

“I do not understand it,” Orlando says, his voice shaking, hinting at how he is barely keeping control. “Not one bit of it. But you’re right, Andres. You are the elder brother. You do not answer to me. So, if you wish to stay here in this smelly city, it’s your prerogative.”

Relief slips from my chest, my poker face slipping as I try to hold it all together. My grip on Roman’s hand loosens just slightly.

“Thank you, brother,” Roman says with the slightest bow of his head. “I appreciate you respecting my wishes.”

Orlando studies Roman for a few more moments, brushing two fingers over his lips in thought. “I expect you to send us off in style. You would receive the same treatment at the House of Badillo.”

“Of course,” Roman offers, calm and cool.

“Let’s make plans to spend Christmas together,” Orlando says as all three of us stand, each ready to get this stress-anxiety meeting over with. “We made some great memories in Switzerland. Perhaps it’s time to make new memories since you lost all the others?”

“I think that’s reasonable,” Roman says, and from his tone, from the ways I know his voice now, I think that maybe he will actually consider it.

“And if there are any wedding bells in the future, I will be exceptionally offended if I do not receive an invitation,” Orlando warns, meaning every word, that much is obvious.

“Stay on your best behavior, and we’ll seat you at the table with all our favorite single ladies,” I tease because I can’t help it.

“Human ones,” he insists. “Somebody has to produce an heir, and it seems it will not be Andres’ doing, anymore.”

I flip him off as Roman and I step into the elevator, and maybe things will be mended between the brothers because Orlando just laughs, a full-bellied, head-thrown-back kind of laugh.

“See you tomorrow night, eight o’clock,” Roman says as the doors close between us.

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