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I glare back. I’ve done my duty to this family and then some. And I’m fine with continuing. But only if Honeyeh is welcome. Without her…

He turns away again, leading Darius into the other kitchen. They come back five minutes later with plates heaping full of food.

The coffee finishes and I pour myself a cup, my eggs done, so I dump them on a plate.

The three of us eat until my phone chimes again. One by one my brothers arrive, joining us around the island.

They grab plates of food, coffee, filling the kitchen with low chatter. It’s a quiet moment in my home that we almost never have.

Most of the house is a showpiece. I can’t ever remember having a quiet family meal like this.

They pull up stools, eating and talking. Gris pops a shrimp in his mouth. “Win, can you remind Mother that we’ll be in England in a month to help with wedding prep? She’s texting me constantly.”

“She’s excited,” Win chuckles, more relaxed after some food. “One son married,” he nods at Killian, “another planning the wedding of the century.”

My phone dings again, a text message from Mason appearing.

I’m here.

“Who invited Mason?”I ask, allowing our partner in through the gate.

“I did,” Win answers.

Of course. The father I never wanted or needed. It’s my turn to glare. Because Win doesn’t have to answer to anyone. I’ve always shouldered that burden, and I don’t appreciate him making it harder today. It’s my call when Mason is included,not his. I wanted us to make some decisions as a family first. Something he would have known if he’d asked.

That’s when Honeyeh enters the kitchen. She’s got on the dress I laid out for her. The shoes.

Her hair is styled in loose waves down her back, her light makeup perfect for the occasion.

I reach out my hand and she moves closer, slipping her slender fingers into mine. “Honeyeh, I’d like you to meet my brother, Winston. Publicly, you refer to him as Your Grace, or Lord Grandmont. Privately, we call him Win.”

She dips into a curtsy, though I never mentioned that it was appropriate.

Win gives her a curt nod in return. I’d hoped for warmer. “Win, this is Honeyeh Karimi.”

Before either can a say a word, Mason enters the kitchen. “I see I’m just in time for introductions. Lord Grandmont, a pleasure to meet in person.”

Win turns to Mason. “And you, Mr. Kincaid,” he says as he pushes his plate aside. “Now that we’re all here, are we ready to begin?” He hasn’t verbally acknowledged Honeyeh at all.

“Win,” I rumble. “I don’t have staff on Sunday. We’ll load the dishwasher first.” Because this is my house, my business, and my life. Win doesn’t call the shots and we’re going to tangle if he tries.

Honeyeh squeezes my hand, her eyes filled with a question. “I can take care of it,” she whispers close to my ear so that only I can hear. Though I know Gris hears it too when his brows lift.

“You get coffee, sweetheart. And then eat.” I kiss her forehead and then let go of her hand to pour her a cup.

Win has played his one move. The rest of the meeting is going my way. And while I don’t need another person to fight with, Win will understand. He might be the duke, but when it comes to our American company, he bows to me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Triston

Kitchen cleaned,we all head upstairs to my office. It’s more than large enough to accommodate us all, though I do send Ryker and Rush for a few more chairs that are packed in a storage closet.

I opt to sit on my desktop, not a move I normally make, but between Mason and Win, I need any advantage I can get.

Win and Mason take the executive chairs that sit in front of my desk. I expect my other brothers to fan out around them in the chairs that have been brought in, but they don’t.

All four of them stand behind my desk, like centaurs. I take a quick look back to find them in a line by birth order, their arms crossed.