Chapter 5 A claim written in whiskey

Kylian grinned as Finn and Castor exchanged jabs, their laughter rolling through the elegant hall. They were his closest friends-his brothers in everything but blood-but sometimes, he wished they would take something seriously.

"Guys, can you be serious for one minute?" he sighed, signaling a steward. "More sherry, please."

Finn, sprawled lazily in his chair, smirked. "House arrest tamed you. Look at you, acting all high and mighty." His posh British accent carried the usual mix of amusement and arrogance, untouched by the years since their boarding school days.

Lancaster-Manor School-an estate-turned-elite academy so exclusive it wasn't even on the books. His parents had spent millions to send him there, and at the time, he'd hated them for it. But Finn and Castor had made it bearable.

Finn Hamilton had been born into aristocracy, his family's wealth rooted in Windsor since the 1800s. Originally, their fortune had come from fine leather goods, but at some point, Finn's grandfather had found "honest money" dull. He turned to organized crime, laundering his newfound empire through luxury hotels and high-end restaurants. It was a family legacy Finn wore with effortless charm, always ready with a smirk and a perfectly delivered joke.

"Nope," Kylian said flatly, leaning forward. "I just think we should take things seriously now. We're not in high school. We're not even in college anymore."

Finn studied him for a long moment, his blue eyes sharp. Then, he burst into laughter and nudged Castor. "Look who's suddenly responsible."

Castor smirked. "You can't even break up with Lana."

That sent Finn into another fit of laughter, loud enough to earn irritated glances from nearby tables. Kylian just took another sip of his drink.

"Fine," Castor said, amusement in his voice. "What's on your mind?"

Kylian hesitated, his fingers brushing against the folded paper in his pocket-the one with the portrait of the girl from the airport. Instead, he focused on Castor's green eyes. Castor was the thinker, the calculated one. Finn liked to joke that it was his Greek heritage, like philosophy ran in his blood.

Castor Callimachi was the son of Anthony Callimachi, a political giant. Ruthless. Feared. People whispered that he was the most dangerous man they had ever met. Kylian liked Castor's quiet power. He respected it.

"My father offered me a position-head of operations at the Manhattan branch," Kylian said. "I'm thinking of accepting."

Finn opened his mouth to reply, but the scent of Clive Christian perfume swept through the air, cutting him off.

Mrs. De Santis.

They stood immediately. Kylian's mother was striking, her silver hair swept into a perfect bun, her emerald silk gown flowing with every graceful step. Gold jewelry glinted under the lights as she smiled, ruffling Kylian's hair before offering her hands to Finn and Castor, who kissed her knuckles in greeting.

"You look more beautiful every time I see you, Mrs. De Santis," Finn said smoothly.

Kylian glanced at his mother. Finn wasn't exaggerating. She was effortlessly elegant, her long fingers tapping against her champagne glass as she took in their flattery.

"Still a charmer," she teased Finn before turning to Castor. "And how is your mother?"

"She's well," Castor replied, mentioning a trip before Kylian's father approached.

"How are the triumvirate?" his father greeted, the familiar joke making Finn and Castor chuckle.

Kylian motioned to a seat. "Join us?"

His father shook his head. "No, just letting you know your brother invited some of the oil executives. You'll be meeting them soon-since you're starting work."

Kylian tensed. "You didn't tell me Dalton would be here."

His father raised an eyebrow. "Dalton runs the Manhattan division. Of course he's here."

Kylian sighed as his parents walked away, his mother bidding them a pleasant evening. He signaled the steward again. "Whiskey this time."

Dealing with Dalton required alcohol.

Finn and Castor exchanged a glance before Finn signaled for the whole bottle.

"You and Dalton still at each other's throats?" Finn asked.

Castor chuckled. "They're always at each other's throats."

Kylian rolled his eyes. "You two act like you love your siblings."

Castor raised his hands in mock surrender. They both turned to Finn, who was eyeing a tray of grilled mushrooms and crab puffs.

"Don't look at me," Finn said, picking up a mushroom. "I have a wonderful relationship with my brother. In fact, I called him last week."

Castor smirked. "And he told you not to call again."

Finn shrugged, grinning. "Well, I guess he couldn't handle my ringing personality."

Kylian chuckled, pouring another drink-then noticed the sudden hush in the room.

Everyone was staring at the door.

His eyes followed theirs, and his breath caught.

She stood at the entrance, arm linked with another woman. They were both beautiful, but Kylian barely registered the second girl.

His focus was on her.

She wore a blush-colored, strapless gown that fit her like a dream. A silver choker glinted against her throat, a delicate bracelet on one wrist, and statement rings on the other. Her thick, wavy black hair framed flawless, smooth skin. Soft pink gloss coated her lips.

But it was her eyes that held him captive.

Green. The same ones that had pulled him in at the airport.

Finn let out a low whistle. "Who is that?"

Castor snapped his fingers in front of Kylian's face. "Hey."

Kylian barely reacted, gripping his glass tighter. He took a slow sip of whiskey before answering.

"I saw her at the airport yesterday."

Finn punched his shoulder playfully. "That's my man."

Kylian smirked, tapping his fingers against the table.

"You got her number, right?" Finn pressed.

Kylian's gaze didn't waver. "I don't need her number."

Castor studied him. "Will you?"

Kylian's voice was steady. "Not this one. I'll take my time."

Finn tsk-tsked. "She looks innocent. Like she's been loved her whole life. She won't fall for you easily."

Kylian's jaw tightened, his voice like steel.

"I don't care what she feels. She's mine."

Finn and Castor exchanged a glance.

This was new. Kylian had never obsessed over a woman before.

And knowing him, when he wanted something-he took it.

Castor exhaled slowly. "What about Lana?"

Kylian barely blinked. "What about her?"

"She'll be mad," Finn said, watching him carefully.

"Why?" Kylian asked, a smirk playing at his lips.

Castor rolled his eyes. "Are you planning to keep them both?"

Finn, ever the instigator, grinned. "Well, he is Italian. Casanova and all that."

"Shut up, Finn," Castor muttered, still watching Kylian closely.

Kylian leaned back, exuding the same lazy confidence he always did. "I've never made Lana think we were in a relationship. I've never even made her think I was interested."

"You're sleeping with her," Castor countered. "Of course, she feels something."

Kylian swirled the whiskey in his glass, finally looking away from the girl across the room.

"I highly doubt it," he said. "Her family wants the match because it would make us unstoppable in business. That's what she wants."

And just like that, the conversation was over.

But Castor and Finn knew one thing for sure-Kylian had just decided on his next and by the looks of it forever obsession.

And nothing would stop him.