Page 48 of One of Them

I burst out laughing at his words.

“I don’t know, but I love it.” Luka grinned from his seat.

Enzo’s lips lifted as he addressed Alisa directly, diverting the attention. “Enough about us. Tell us about you.”

“I already told you some about our family.” She made brief eye contact. “Parents retired to Russia. We have minimal contact. Andrei is the married and most responsible one. I’m sure you will deal with him more now.”

The tiny slip didn’t escape him. “No business, I thought.”

Alisa threw him an apologetic smile. “Right, sorry.”

Maxim observed the exchange, then seized the moment to throw her under the bus. “Ms. Alisa here isn’t exactly as innocent as she seems,” he pointed to her. “Sure, we sleep around. But we don’t sneak them back home. Do we?”

Alisa’s hands flew to her chest in offense. “My own brother,” she gasped.

“It’s the truth. How many times have I caught you sneaking out of the room when I went for a smoke?” With a cheerful smile, he continued, “Or better yet, sneaking someone in. I’m surprised no one died.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Feels like yesterday.”

“It sure was easier at uni.”

“Where did you even go?” I asked her.

“Concerts mostly. A couple of bars.” She shifted her attention to her brothers. “As if Father would let me go alone. How easy do you think it is to pick up men when your brothers kill people for a living? I had to be resourceful.”

When they didn’t reply, she offered a bit more truth. “Honestly, you made my life easier by sending me off. It eliminated the complications.”

Maxim cringed. “Don’t tell Andrei. He’ll never let it go.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Enzo interrupted the conversation.

“Working,” Alisa answered. “But later he’ll be home with his wife. They take this married life very seriously. Any chance they have alone, they use it. Which is rare, since we all live under the same roof.”

“You don’t have your own places?” I asked, surprised.

“We do,” Luka clarified. “But we still stay at the main house. It’s easier that way.”

Either we didn’t want to pry or enough had been said. We all turned back to our meals, occasionally exchanging glances between bites.

When we ate our fill, Alisa turned to me and Enzo. “Thank you both for this. It means the world to me.”

We both nodded before Enzo took over, discussing wine with Alisa.

With dinner cleared, we moved the party to the nearby fire pit for dessert.

Alisa requested s’mores, and despite me not being familiar with the concept, I now perfected the technique thanks to a handful of recipe websites and introduction videos I studied before coming.

The night turned out just the way I hoped. While we all enjoyed the hot mess, Enzo claimed he wouldn’t have any, used to having gelato or some other Italian dessert, but quickly softened when I insisted it was mandatory.

The fire crackled as we licked the dessert off our fingers, seated in the comfortable chairs by the ocean.

As I watched Maxim chase his sister down the beach, attempting to smear chocolate on her face, a realization hit me.

I lived for these moments. The rare glimpses of happiness. The calm that settled my mind.

A break from its usual “Tayrmoil.”

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