Triplets

009

A/N
Before I begin this chapter of the story, I just wanted to say that this chapter is dedicated to @ilovejudebellingham9 and that is because I promised to give them an update on Saturday and I didn't. Very sorry for that! Anyways, peace out.

RYAN'S POV

Standing there was the whole family. Some looked shocked, this would be from the middle children as well as the younger ones. Some looked proud. Even Alessandro looked proud behind his cold eyes and hard expression.

The staring was getting uncomfortable. "So, um... how long were you standing there?" I am very nervous, but I refuse to let it show. I will just talk in a normal voice. 

"Ryan, where did you and your brother learn to fight like that?" Alessandro questions. 

I think back to when they were first asking questions. "As we have said before, we knew some people, had some friends." No way in hell is he getting more than that.

He raised an eyebrow at me, almost challengingly. "Would you care to elaborate?"

I know for a fact he isn't really asking; he is more demanding. But what he needs to learn with subjects surrounding me is that if there is a loophole, I will find it, and I will use it. "Nope!" I say with fake enthusiasm in my voice as I start to make my way out of the room. "I should be down in time for dinner, but I have to clean up and take a shower and whatever."

And with that, I left the room. 

♤♡◇♧

During dinner, Xavier had brought up the fact that my accent is a bit more different from both of my brothers. I had simply explained that a week before our adopted father had adopted the boys, the orphanage split into gander groups. I was moved across the country. They couldn't find me for two years, until they did.

None of that was really true. 

A week before Arlo had adopted my brothers, the French Mafia Don, Gabriel, had decided he wanted to kidnap me and a ton of other kids from different orphanages to 'train' them. That is where I learned the basis of fighting, like how to throw a good punch and how to spot weak points. I was with the French Mafia for two years until the German Mafia found me. The two mafias had always been enemies, so attacking a warehouse was a win-win. I had then met Arlo and he became my father. Because of him I was reunited with my twins, and I couldn't stop thanking him. 

The training there was awful. I wouldn't even really call it training. I got good pain endurance from it, however, so I mean that works. At the time when they had first taken me, I had only turned nine. And I wasn't even the youngest kid there. 

So, here I am looking at all my scars in the mirror. Most of which were on my arms and legs, which is why I wear pants and long sleeves more often than not. However, the ugliest scar I have runs through my eyebrow and into the side of my face, just barely missing my eye. 

I shake my head and get into pajamas, then head to bed. 

♤♡◇♧

The next morning, I wake up at about 5:00AM. I continue to toss and turn for a couple of hours, trying to lull my mind and body back to sleep. 

It didn't work. 

So, when I finally get up, I see that it is 8:30. 

I head into my closet and grab a pair of sweats and a hoodie I think I have stolen from Rudy at some point. I quickly change and then start to head downstairs, where I can hear chatter coming from the dining room.