The gallery's lighting was perfect that night, casting a warm glow over the rich hues of Julian's paintings.
As I strolled through the room, I could feel the weight of his artistic genius surrounding me, the colors and strokes of each canvas a reflection of his rebellious yet passionate soul.
My brothers were all busy entertaining guests.
Well, except for Julian, of course—he was the star of the show.
Dante was somewhere, likely causing trouble in his tech-savvy way, and Marcus was being his usual calculating self, probably networking for the next big merger.
And then there was Ethan.
He stood near one of Julian's largest pieces, his hands in his pockets, a soft smile on his face as he took in the artwork.
I couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth. Seeing Ethan here, quietly admiring my brother's work, made me think—maybe this wasn't just about us anymore.
Maybe there was more to Ethan than even I had realized.
