"Reegan? What are you doing here?"
A man with shaggy midnight black hair and a familiar set of grey eyes— the two key traits inherited by all the men in the Cordova family— stared back at me blankly, clearly not in the best mood.
When I opened my door this morning, I hadn't expected to see my younger brother standing outside my apartment. With only a five-year age gap, we never had a bad relationship, especially since he had no desire to take over the family business, but he wasn't one to visit others.
He worked as a freelance hacker who would've stayed inside his house 24/7 if it wasn't for my mother's mandatory weekly family dinners. As such, he stood just half a foot shorter than me at only 6 feet tall, with a much leaner build than my own from sitting around at his apartment all d
