Page 108 of Inside the Sun

I keep pretending to pick off dead leaves so I can keep watching.

And Sun… fuck. There’s no denying the way my heart speeds up. That flowing chiton clings to every perfect line of hisbody, and the deep gold of his hair gleams in the late-afternoon sun like molten brass. He truly looks like a young Greek god.

That bastard Anzo has two of his own personal slaves: one stunning alpha and one stunning omega.

Perhaps he thinks it boosts his status, that owning such gorgeous people makes him look more powerful? Maybe he’s compensating for being a beta, trying to gain more respect from the alphas around him? I seriously doubt it works, after what I saw with Vito.

Summer sits with his head bowed. Sun stares blankly at the servers moving food around.

It hits me just how accurate the word ‘slave’ really is in this situation. It’s painfully obvious that neither Summer nor Sun is here by choice, and neither of them is enjoying any of this in the slightest.

Only Moon came here willingly at first, back when he met Anzo four years ago.

Moon worked at an animal shelter. The owner was trying to find donors to keep it afloat, so Moon ended up manning a table at a charity event, handing out flyers.

Anzo also came. I have no idea why. Maybe just to show his face, flash a bit of blood money at a few causes that made him look good. That night he donated a massive sum to the Beta Empowerment movement and threw some cash at the animal shelter too, probably because Moon caught his eye.

Over the next year, Anzo courted Moon the usual way. And maybe it worked. Moon was… unique. He had his issues. He used all kinds of substances, mostly psychedelics, trying to silence the visions in his head he couldn’t understand.

At the time, I was serving in the military, so I only got bits and pieces of the story, updates from our parents and the rare video call with Moon.

One year after they met, Moon agreed to marry Anzo. It came as a shock to our parents, who couldn’t understand how anyone could fall for a mafia boss.

Moon lived in the fortress for two and a half years, barely ever seeing our parents. And when he did, he was rarely sober.

Exactly nine months ago, our parents called me to say he’d vanished…

At least today, I made some progress—after so many months, I finally have confirmation of Summer's whereabouts.

If I had to break this mission into four steps, the first would be confirming Summer’s status. Second, learning what happened to Moon. Third and fourth, getting them both back safely. Right now, I’m only on step one.

Still crouched behind the planter, I keep staring at my little brother’s petite figure.

Anzo hasn’t gotten bored of him. Not yet. That’s all I need to keep going.

With Moon, I always felt the twin bond. But Summer… if he were killed, I probably wouldn’t feel it. He’s four years younger than us, and I spent so many years abroad while he was growing up, pushing through his teenage years. Still, he’s my brother. My family. I owe it to him to help.

I lose track of time, staring at them. They’re sitting quietly on that sofa when I suddenly hear footsteps behind me. My heart jumps as I turn—

And see Mauro standing there.

His dark hazel eyes are locked on me, intense and unreadable.

My pulse spikes. Fuck. Did he see me staring at Sun? Or maybe Summer? He must have noticed I’ve been squatting here in the same spot for several minutes straight.

I get up quickly and give Mauro a slight nod, like a casual greeting, pretending all is good, then walk past him toward the electric cart waiting nearby.

But his gaze stays locked on me the entire time.

Does he know I spent more than just a few minutes in Sun’s room? That it wasn’t just shower and go?

What if he thinks I crossed a line—that I abused the trust they showed me, took advantage of their help, and in return, went and fucked Sun?

Who knows.

Even if Luca and Mauro aren’t like Rocco, they’re still tied to the same organization. Blood means something: a certain loyalty, when nothing else does.

There’s still one last planter left to bring over, but I hesitate. If Mauro has his eyes on me, maybe it’s smarter to disappear for a while. No matter how ‘nice’ they’ve been during the Vito situation, their moral code is probably nothing like mine.

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