The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(7)

“Mr. Romano?”

I turned at the sound of my driver calling after me. He trotted up and held out the stuffed animal I’d found on the side of the road.

“You forgot this in the car.”

“Throw it away.”

“Sir?”

“I don’t want it.”

“Oh. Are you sure? I saw you find it. I bet some child is missing it.”

I hadn’t thought of that, but the last thing I wanted to do was start thinking about children again. “Does that sound like my problem?”

“No, sir. Sorry, sir.” The driver took a step back, and I almost snapped at him again. If he wanted to keep his job, he’d need to toughen up.

I rubbed a hand over my face. “Rick?”

“Rob.”

“Whatever.” The last thing I needed was my family to hear I was running around picking up stuffed animals off the streets. They’d think I’d lost my mind again. “Just dispose of the fucking thing, and don’t tell anyone about it. Got it?”

“Dispose of it?” Eyes wide, he looked down at the stuffed animal like it was evidence I was asking him to make disappear. “Here or somewhere else?”

Oh my God.

I ripped the thing out of his hands and growled, “Forget it. I’ll get rid of it.”

Still looking freaked, Rob stammered, “Should I wait, sir? Will you need a ride home?”

“I’ll call if I do,” I said as I walked away. New drivers were a pain in my ass. Had I said that to my youngest brother, Gian, he would have told me I wouldn’t have that problem as often as I did if I wasn’t such an asshole.

Asshole.

I didn’t even mind the label anymore. Like so much else, it didn’t fucking matter.

I let myself into my office, tossed the stuffed animal onto one of the chairs, opened the bottle, and took a long swig. While loosening my tie, I walked over to my desk, sat down, and propped my feet up on it before taking another generous gulp. The burn felt good on the back of my throat.

Oblivion couldn’t come fast enough. I raised the bottle again.

The more I drank, the sadder the stuffed animal looked. “Don’t look at me like that,” I said with a slur. All glassy-eyed, it just continued to stare back at me.

I slammed my fist down on my desk.

“I don’t care if there is some kid looking for you. Let the little bastard learn now that if you don’t take care of something, it disappears like that.”

I snapped my fingers in the air.

“Throwing you away would be doing a favor for that kid. A fucking favor.”

I tipped the bottle back again.

“You picked a really shitty day to show up. You know that?”

The blank stare mocked me.

“I bet you do. The universe loves to fuck with people, doesn’t it? Well, the joke’s on you. I don’t feel anything. Nothing. You should have taken me along with them, because whatever good there was in me died with them.”

The door of my office opened. “Yep, he’s in here.”

Oh, fuck.

All three of my brothers walked in. Technically, Gian is my cousin, but my parents raised him as one of their own—and, as far as we’re concerned, he’s our brother.

Mauricio smoothly removed the bottle from my hand and placed it on the table behind him. Christof hovered beside him. Gian plopped down in a chair in front of my desk and said, “Why do you never invite us to the party?”

“How did you know I was here?” I growled.

With two fingers, Mauricio picked the stuffed animal off the chair and studied it as he answered. “I bribe all your drivers to tell me where you are when you go off the grid.”

I dropped my feet to the floor and wagged a finger at Gian. “See, they deserve to be fired. Damn snitches.”

“He’s wasted,” Christof said.

Gian nodded. “Let’s get him home.”

“What is this thing?” Mauricio asked, still holding the toy out in front of him as if it might bite.

“Nothing,” I said. “I found it near the Durham site. I couldn’t just leave it there.”

All three of my brothers looked at me with visible sympathy in their eyes, and my temper rose in response. “I’m not doing this. Does it look like I want any of you here?”

Christof folded his arms across his chest. “I call shotgun. I’m not sitting in the back seat with him again. Last year he slept on my shoulder the whole way home.”

“I did not,” I instantly denied, then remembered doing it. Like a werewolf, one day a year I turned into someone I didn’t recognize. Every year I thought I would handle it better, that I wouldn’t turn, but there I was again—drunk in my office, not wanting to go home because there was no place I considered home anymore.

Mauricio stepped closer. “Come on, Sebastian. Let’s get you out of here.”

I covered my face with both hands. If life was fair, I would have been the brother mine deserved. I would have faced tragedy, pulled myself together, and shown them that Romanos could survive anything.

I stood and swayed on my feet. They were right—it’d be better for the business if I kept this side of myself out of the office. “Thanks.”

My brothers flanked me as we walked through my secretary’s office. As we approached the elevator, I heard Mauricio ask Christof, “What should I do with this?”