Three weeks and Daniel still hadn’t answered Stavros’ question. He’d been released from the hospital, and they moved right back into the beach house three hours away from Atlanta.

What did he want?

He wanted the proof Stavros had laid out in front of him to be lies. He wanted to take the fear away from Stavros’ eyes, because that fear remained. When he got up from their bed in the middle of the night, Stavros was there. When he left the house, Stavros insisted on accompanying him.

That couldn’t be them.

He was healing, though not as quickly as he wanted. Lifting his arms above his head was a chore nowadays. Coughing and sneezing brought his full attention to the wounds every time.

But he was alive.

He had Stavros and Levi and Toro.

He’d sold both the Brooklyn brownstone and the house in Norcross, and handed over the house where he’d kept his mother to Charlie and Lành. They deserved it, and they needed to be safe. He’d make sure they were safe. The house he’d built for Petra, Daniel had it torn down.

The beach house was home. Their base. Stavros was away in New York, helping his uncle with the business, but Daniel expected him back any day. In the meantime, Toro was with him.

Stavros left nearly half the men on his payroll as security. Despite Daniel’s strong objections. He didn’t need to be babysat, but he’d seen the fear in Stavros’ eyes. The look that said if Daniel didn’t agree to the security, Stavros wouldn’t leave.

So he’d capitulated.

That needed to stop.

It couldn’t be them.

“Tío.” Toro stepped onto the balcony and stood next to him, staring out onto the beach. “Your man just called. He’s on his way.”

His man.

He patted Toro on the back. “Gracias.”

“He loves you, Tío. I watched him in the hospital. He was scared shitless, but he was also barking orders.” Toro chuckled. “Ordering people around. Threatening them. He wanted to fall apart.” Toro’s grip tightened on the railing. “Hell, I was falling apart, but he never did.”

“He’s strong.” Stronger than Daniel had ever credited him.

“Does it still feel strange to you?” Toro faced him, brow lifted, Nieto eyes genuinely curious. “Being with him. Loving him after all of it. Does it still feel strange?”

Daniel nodded. “Yes and no.” When Toro’s brow lifted, he explained, “He’s familiar in a strange way.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how better to explain it.”

Toro nodded as if he understood and they watched the sun set in the distance in comfortable silence.

His nephew cleared his throat after a while. “I’m sorry about Antonio.”

Daniel frowned. “Why? It is nothing to do with you.”

“Maybe not, but he is still my father and he hurt you.” Toro looked away, staring down at a couple walking their dogs on the beach below. “You won’t get an apology from him. So I'm giving you mine.”

“Toro.” Daniel gave him a one-armed hug. “Antonio wanted me to do what I did all our lives. He wanted me to fix things for him. Save him. That is his crime. Never yours.” All of it because Daniel couldn’t get him out of jail. All of it because Daniel didn’t want to retake the business.

“I know.”

Daniel really hoped he did. “I want your permission,” he said quietly. “I want to tell Stavros about you.”

Toro jerked his head around to stare at him. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Of course not. Not without your permission.” He paused. “Do you think he will see you different? You can trust—”

“I trust him.” Toro held a hand. “Most importantly, I trust you. You are more a father to me than Antonio ever was.” He inclined his chin. “You can tell him.”

Daniel smiled. “I loved you when you were my niece, Miranda. And I love you now, as my nephew. My affection for you will never change.”

Toro hugged him briefly then dropped his hands and stepped back. “I’m going to call mamá, tell her I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“That should make her stop cursing my name.”

Toro chuckled. “Nothing will make her stop cursing your name.”

That was true.

Toro left and Daniel remained on the balcony, taking a seat and putting his feet up on the rail. He sipped from the glass of sweet tea at his elbow. No alcohol for him because of his meds, but he needed a taste of something smooth that burned high and slow.

“What are you doing?”

His lips curved and he threw his head back, eyes closed. “Wishing for a taste of you.”

“That so?” Lips brushed his forehead. His nose. Then pressed to his mouth. “Like this?”

“No.” He caught Stavros’ face in both hands and kissed him deeper. Eyes open. Tongue parting his lips, sliding in and deep and yes…Stavros moaned. “Like that.”

Gray eyes smiled at him. Happy and relieved and content. Daniel stroked his lover’s face, thumb brushing his jaw softly.

“Welcome home, diablo. Our bed’s been empty.” He licked Stavros’ chin. Sucked on his bottom lip. “And I’ve been lonely.”

Those eyes glittered. Nostrils flared, Stavros told him huskily, “I’m home.”

“Sí.” Now Daniel could breathe easier. Now he could actually sleep at night.

Stavros released him long enough to take a seat next to him then grabbed his hand and linked their fingers. He wore a suit, like always, but the jacket had been discarded. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up, exposing his muscular arms. Daniel never even noticed another man’s forearms, until Stavros. Like everything else about his lover, that, too, was captivating.

He put his head on Stavros’ shoulder. Inhaling him. Spice and musk and just Stavros. “I have an answer to the two hundred and fifty thousand dollar question.”

“You do?”

“I’ve lost too much already, diablo. I can’t do it again.”

“Then you won’t.” He said it with conviction. With promise. With knowing.

“I want him alive.”

He felt Stavros’ nod. “Then he stays alive.”

“You saw him?”

“Naí, agápi mou.” Stavros stroked his thumb over the back of Daniel’s hand, fingers caressing the rosary that remained wrapped around his wrist. “I did.”

“How did he look?”

“Like a man in charge. Like someone who thought he had power.”

“Take it away, but keep him untouched.” Stavros could do that. Daniel trusted his lover to do that. This wasn’t something he could handle, and he had someone more than equipped to deal with Antonio at his side.

His blood tried to have him killed. Conditioning made Daniel want to retaliate, but despite everything, Antonio was family. His brother might not think it, but family was life. And Daniel couldn’t hurt him. He couldn’t spill Antonio’s blood.

He refused to kill his mother’s son.

“Done.” Stavros paused then shifted so he could peer down at Daniel. “You want to see him?”

Did he? “Maybe one day. Some day.” He wanted to be who he’d never been before. A man not always looking over his shoulder. Someone not always consumed with revenge and hatred. Because he hated Antonio, but he loved him, too. “I want to have us for a while longer, diablo. Just us. I want you to myself.”

Stavros’ gaze went hot. He touched Daniel’s throat, stroked his scarred flesh. “We could be in a room filled with people, you’d still have me to yourself.” Lips pressed to Daniel’s, he whispered, “I live to die for you. I am here to die for you.”

“No.” Daniel shook his head. “No more dying. We live. Tú eres mi familia.” You are my family. “Family is you.”

Stavros kissed him. Soft bites. Stavros’ version of tender. “Family is you.”