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Italians and their late-night dinners. By eight p.m., the chef had finished cooking the last dish, and with the sounds of crickets and crashing waves as our backdrop, we gathered on the patio for a family-style dinner. The setup, however, was anything but casual.

A massive circular wooden table, brimming with food, awaited us. Enzo, ever the gentleman, held out chairs for Alisa and me before seating himself.

Maxim lingered by the beach, finishing his cigarette, his watchful gaze trailing our every move. Luka, always the early one, had already claimed his spot at the table before anyone else arrived.

The smell was heavenly. Having survived on little more than wine and air, my stomach growled in protest. With the host preoccupied, instructing the staff on wine pairings, we all turned our attention to the menu.

By the time the wine and bread arrived, I was ready to eat off the floor if it meant getting food faster.

Enzo thanked the staff for their efforts and dismissed them for the night.

The moment they left, we dug in, busily passing sides around the table.

“This feels… very domestic,” I said between bites, savoring the moment.

Enzo held up a serving bowl of greens, carefully passing it to Alisa. “The chef made some salads for you,” he said with an air of politeness.

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed. Maxim, ever sharp, immediately reacted. “Are you suggesting my sister needs to lose weight?”

“Maxim!” Alisa shot him a scolding glare, clearly mortified.

In a calm, measured tone, Enzo clarified, “I’m simply accommodating the requests of my guests.”

“Requests?” Maxim’s eyes narrowed, locking on his sister. “Alisa, what’s this nonsense?”

Luka leaned back, gesturing lazily with his fork. “Seriously, since when do you care about that stuff?”

Enzo didn’t intervene further, though the napkin in his hand twisted tighter.

Alisa accepted the bowl gracefully, offering Enzo a small smile before serving herself. “I’m just watching my weight before the wedding,” she explained, keeping her tone casual. “The dress was custom-made, so I can’t afford to gain anything.”

Her words left a bitter taste even in my mouth. Judging by their reactions, this wasn’t normal for her.

Then again, Alisa had never planned a wedding before. I wasn’t sure any of them fully realized the pressure she was putting on herself to make everything perfect.

Maxim’s voice broke through, sharper now. “Since when do you restrict yourself? ”

Alisa sighed, pushing her plate slightly forward. “I want to look perfect on my wedding day, alright? Can we please just drop it? My weekend, my rules.”

“And what are those rules?” the host asked.

“It’s simple. No more wedding talk, no mention of family matters or business affairs.

I want to enjoy the weekend, get to know each other, and pretend, for just a weekend, that we’re normal,” she paused, letting her eyes drift across the table before adding with a smile.

“Well, as normal as we can be. I want to relax, be myself, and not have to watch what I say around any of you.”

As Alisa listed her wishes, she turned to Maxim first, clearly seeking validation.

“Don’t be looking at me. I’m always honest,” Maxim replied with a shrug.

“We know!”

“Too honest,” the table answered in unison. I found myself smiling, feeling oddly at home.

While Maxim pouted in his chair, I lifted my glass, offering Alisa the confirmation she was looking for. “To Alisa’s completely normal weekend.”

I turned to Enzo next, hoping to lighten the mood as we indulged in the delicious food and wine. “Do you plan to take a blanket to the beach, or are you just going commando?” I teased.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he grinned, his voice as smooth as the wine in our glasses.

From the opposite side of the table, Luka broke in, his impatience cutting through the moment.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said. Dropping his cutlery with a clatter, he launched into a barrage of questions, excitement practically radiating off him.

“When did it start? How do you choose who’s invited? Are there themed rooms?”

While he ranted, I savored the incredible pasta alla Siciliana. The chef deserved a medal. The rich, bold flavors burst in my mouth, undoubtedly the result of handpicked, premium ingredients. The stories I’d heard about Enzo’s events only heightened my curiosity as I watched him react.

Calmly, Enzo wiped his mouth with a napkin, setting it neatly on the table before turning to Luka. “Telling you defeats the purpose of a private event,” he replied.

Unhappy with the answer, Luka switched tactics. “You should know, people talk.”

“You Galkins talk. A lot,” Enzo shot back, his tone sharp.

“We are who we are,” Luka shrugged, unfazed.

The dinner returned to a quieter pace. Nature’s sounds filled the background, interrupted only by the occasional clink of plates. Then, to everyone’s surprise, Enzo broke the silence. “Fine. Only if it won’t be used against me later.”

“What happens in the Hamptons stays in the Hamptons,” Luka grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. Enzo’s body shuddered at the cliché, already regretting his decision to spill the details.

Impatient, Luka leaned forward. “Just tell me already.”

But instead of answering, Enzo turned to me. “Taya?”

I choked on my sparkling water, genuinely caught off guard by the sudden shift in attention. “You want me to tell them?”

He gave a silent nod.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “I went once, and I’m still trying to erase the images.”

Exaggerating the night, I shrugged dramatically. But when the memory of how it ended crossed my mind, I couldn’t help but smile. “That’s how Enzo and I met.”

Alisa’s eyes widened, and I immediately realized how that must have sounded.

I rushed to clarify, “Not like that. Nothing ever happened between us. ”

“How did you get in?” Enzo asked, his curiosity piqued. I guess we never really talked about that night.

“I don’t know. The invitation came through the web.

It wasn’t traceable. Trust me, I tried.” I spent hours trying to trace the source and came up empty.

“I was relatively new to the world. Knew Ilya, Malek, and maybe a handful of others,” I paused, recalling those early days.

“I was working day and night, hardly had time to meet anyone, let alone enjoy myself. Sure, I went to the club, but this place? Disneyland compared to that. For a nineteen-year-old living a sheltered life, I was overwhelmed.”

I glanced around, imagining how it would be now. “If I went today, it’d be a totally different story.”

The mention of age caught Maxim’s attention. “How old are you now?” he asked, either out of genuine interest or simply to fill in the blanks.

“Turning twenty-four soon.”

Maxim muttered an ironic “great” under his breath and went back to his drink.

“Then what happened?” His brother’s gaze shifted to me, curiosity written all over his face, desperate for the story.

“Don’t get me wrong, it was all new and exciting,” I said, recalling the past. “I just never found anything or anyone that could really hold my attention. I ended up at this bar.” I turned, pointing toward the far end of the patio where the same bar still stood, unchanged, just missing a few decorations.

“I ordered the most expensive bottle of red wine, but the server told me it was in the cellar, and the host is the only one with access.” I let out a cough-laugh. “Let’s just say the host was a little preoccupied with one or two, possibly three other attendees.”

A quiet “wow” escaped Luka, but Enzo shot back with words. “You snitch.”

Ironic, considering he was the one person I’d never snitch on .

I raised my hands in surrender. “They wanted details. I barely gave them any.”

“I’m still waiting,” Luka declared, clearly unsatisfied with the answers.

“I guess you’ll have to attend to find out,” Enzo teased, openly enjoying the situation.

Luka’s head snapped toward his brother at lightning speed, his face lighting up. “Did he just invite me? I’m pretty sure that counts as an invite.”

“I’m not sure there’ll be more in the future, though,” Enzo added, lost in thought.

Luka’s expression faltered. “What? You can’t quit on me now,” he protested loudly. “Taya, help?”

“News to me,” I said with a shrug. “I thought it was your event of the year.”

“It lost its appeal.”

In his role as the elder, Maxim pitched in. “It’s the years, man. They sneak up on you.”

The ridiculous statement had the other Galkins turning to him. Luka nudged his brother’s shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

Alisa, close behind. “Out of all of us, you’re the least likely to settle.”

Maxim dismissed their teasing with a wave. “I’m not talking about settling. It’s the sharing you grow tired of.”

A moment of thought created a pause. Since I wasn’t familiar with sharing, having never experienced it, I eyed my fellow diners, trying to gauge their reactions.

While Alisa maintained an innocent front, I knew from our previous conversations she was deep in some romantic scenario.

Enzo? He just stared ahead. I didn’t think he could come up with a single name of someone he could tolerate for that long. Let alone forever.

Luka’s smile grew as he answered with confidence. “I have no issues with that. ”

I doubted the youngest of the Galkin men struggled with a shortage of candidates.

“Just wait,” Maxim stated.

Alisa recalled the story. “I’m still not getting how you two met.”

The table turned to me. “The third vodka landed in front of me when the host showed up. He was informed of my request.” With a sly smile, I teased, “Probably just needed a breather.”

Enzo let out a grunt in protest. “I was fine,” he snickered. “I came down to find out who dared to be so demanding.”

“We ended up drinking the bottle and talked all night. It was weirdly natural. When we noticed, the sun was up, and the guests had left.” I ran my mouth too far before I realized.

“People like to think that soulmates are a romantic concept. Two souls destined to find each other and spend the rest of their lives together in harmony. I think it’s a person you meet who makes you feel at ease, filling you with certainty.

You know they’ll tag along for the ride, no matter how bumpy.

You become inseparable, an extension of each other. ”

I wasn’t used to saying so much at once. It felt strange to leave it all hanging in the air.

Maxim leaned over the table. “How did we get from sex parties to friendship bracelets?”

I burst out laughing at his words.

“I don’t know, but I love it.” Luka grinned from his seat.

Enzo’s lips lifted as he addressed Alisa directly, diverting the attention. “Enough about us. Tell us about you.”

“I already told you some about our family.” She made brief eye contact. “Parents retired to Russia. We have minimal contact. Andrei is the married and most responsible one. I’m sure you will deal with him more now.”

The tiny slip didn’t escape him. “No business, I thought.”

Alisa threw him an apologetic smile. “Right, sorry. ”

Maxim observed the exchange, then seized the moment to throw her under the bus. “Ms. Alisa here isn’t exactly as innocent as she seems,” he pointed to her. “Sure, we sleep around. But we don’t sneak them back home. Do we?”

Alisa’s hands flew to her chest in offense. “My own brother,” she gasped.

“It’s the truth. How many times have I caught you sneaking out of the room when I went for a smoke?” With a cheerful smile, he continued, “Or better yet, sneaking someone in. I’m surprised no one died.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Feels like yesterday.”

“It sure was easier at uni.”

“Where did you even go?” I asked her.

“Concerts mostly. A couple of bars.” She shifted her attention to her brothers. “As if Father would let me go alone. How easy do you think it is to pick up men when your brothers kill people for a living? I had to be resourceful.”

When they didn’t reply, she offered a bit more truth. “Honestly, you made my life easier by sending me off. It eliminated the complications.”

Maxim cringed. “Don’t tell Andrei. He’ll never let it go.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Enzo interrupted the conversation.

“Working,” Alisa answered. “But later he’ll be home with his wife. They take this married life very seriously. Any chance they have alone, they use it. Which is rare, since we all live under the same roof.”

“You don’t have your own places?” I asked, surprised.

“We do,” Luka clarified. “But we still stay at the main house. It’s easier that way.”

Either we didn’t want to pry or enough had been said. We all turned back to our meals, occasionally exchanging glances between bites.

When we ate our fill, Alisa turned to me and Enzo. “Thank you both for this. It means the world to me.”

We both nodded before Enzo took over, discussing wine with Alisa .

With dinner cleared, we moved the party to the nearby fire pit for dessert.

Alisa requested s’mores, and despite me not being familiar with the concept, I now perfected the technique thanks to a handful of recipe websites and introduction videos I studied before coming.

The night turned out just the way I hoped. While we all enjoyed the hot mess, Enzo claimed he wouldn’t have any, used to having gelato or some other Italian dessert, but quickly softened when I insisted it was mandatory.

The fire crackled as we licked the dessert off our fingers, seated in the comfortable chairs by the ocean.

As I watched Maxim chase his sister down the beach, attempting to smear chocolate on her face, a realization hit me.

I lived for these moments. The rare glimpses of happiness. The calm that settled my mind.

A break from its usual “Tayrmoil.”