Chapter 3 Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Moretti Residence – Dining Hall

The dining hall always felt too large for six people, even with my brothers' voices filling every corner of it. Mother sat at the head of the table, composed as always, while Father stood behind her chair instead of sitting, which meant whatever he was about to say, he wanted to say it standing.

"Your mother and I are leaving for the Calloway pack tomorrow," he said. "Red Moon's in three days. We'll be gone in a week, maybe more."

Dante set his fork down a little too hard. "The Red Moon's in three days and you're telling us tonight?"

"I'm telling you now because now is when I decided to tell you." Father's voice didn't rise. It never needed to.

Red Moon came once every few years, and packs traveled for it the way some humans traveled for weddings. The night the moon turned that particular shade of rust, every wolf in attendance shifted at once, no control needed, no restraint required. It was the one night wolves were allowed to simply be wolves, without rule or rank weighing on them. Our parents hadn't missed one since before I was born.

"So what, we just run things while you're gone?" Luca asked, already smirking like the idea amused him more than it should.

"Exactly that." Mother finally spoke, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "Marco holds the pack. Dante holds the territory lines. Luca, you'll handle the business side, since you seem to enjoy pretending you already do."

Luca's smirk dropped half an inch.

"It's a week," I said. "We've held things before."

"Not all three of you, together, with me and your father both absent." Father finally sat, like that settled it. "Consider it a test. How well the three of you run this house without us standing behind you."

I didn't love being tested at twenty-eight, but I understood the shape of it. Our father didn't hand over control easily, and he never had. If we wanted the empire eventually — the pack, the territory, the businesses that ran quieter than the rest — we'd have to prove we could hold all three pieces at once without dropping one.

"And Natalia?" Dante asked, the only one of us who'd actually remembered she existed in this conversation.

Mother's expression shifted, just slightly. "Natalia is the other reason I'm telling you tonight, not tomorrow."

"What about her?" I asked.

"She's ten years old, and she needs someone with her, full-time, while we're away. Someone who isn't one of you three drowning in pack business." Mother's eyes moved across each of us in turn. "I've already arranged interviews. A nanny."

The word landed in the room like a dropped glass.

"A nanny," Luca repeated, like the word tasted wrong in his mouth. "She's not a baby, Mother."

"No. She's a ten-year-old in a house run by three alphas who'll be too busy proving themselves to notice if she's eaten dinner." Mother's tone didn't invite further debate, though that rarely stopped Luca.

"We don't need a stranger in this house," I said. It wasn't really a request. "Natalia can stay with one of us when we're not working. We don't need someone watching her like she's helpless."

"You say that," Father said, "and yet none of you have spent more than an hour with her in the last month that wasn't interrupted by a phone call."

Nobody answered that, because nobody could.

"The interview's tomorrow morning," Mother said, standing now, smoothing her dress like the conversation was already over. "Ten o'clock. I expect at least one of you to be present, since I won't be here to judge her myself."

"Define present," Dante muttered.

"In the room, Dante. Not on a call in the next one."

She left without waiting for further objection, Father following a step behind her, and the three of us sat there in the silence they left hanging over the table.

"A nanny," Luca said again, shaking his head, reaching for the wine like it might make the word easier to swallow.

I didn't say anything. I was still thinking about the way Mother's eyes had moved across us before she'd said it, like she already knew exactly how little attention we'd give a stranger walking into this house tomorrow.

I had no idea how wrong I'd be.

Luca turned to Natalia, seated to his right, swinging her feet under the table since they didn't quite reach the floor, still picking at her plate without paying attention to any of us.

"Natalia." He said her name softly, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Do you even want a nanny?"

She didn't look up right away, just kept pushing a piece of carrot around her plate with her fork.

"Yes," she said simply. "I want someone who's actually here."

Luca blinked, clearly expecting something closer to a tantrum, or at least an argument. Dante actually laughed, short and surprised, like the answer had caught him off guard.

"You're joking," Luca said.

"I'm not." She looked up at him then, her expression plain and unbothered by the three of us staring at her. "You're always busy. Dante's always busy. Marco's always on his phone." She shrugged, the kind of small, honest shrug only a child gives, without any performance behind it. "I just want someone who stays."

Nobody had a response to that either.

My phone buzzed against the table.

I glanced down. Romanos. The deal was done.

I exhaled slowly, set the phone back down, and pushed my chair out.

"Are you leaving, Marco?" Natalia asked, her chin lifting slightly to look up at me.

I didn't answer right away. I already knew why she was asking.

I adjusted my sleeves instead of meeting her eyes. "Finish your meal."

Her expression didn't change much, but something in it sharpened anyway, the kind of look that made her seem older than ten for just a second.

I turned toward the hall.

Behind me, soft enough that I almost missed it, I heard her.

"See? This is why I need a nanny."

I kept walking. But the line followed me down the hall longer than it should have, not because of what she'd said, but because I couldn't argue with it.