"All my life," Julian spat, "it was the same thing. Luca this. Luca that. Luca is stronger. Luca is sharper. Luca can handle pressure. Luca can lead." He laughed bitterly. "And I was what? The practice son?"
A whole life built around being measured against someone he could never quite beat, because the game had been rigged before either of them were old enough to understand they were playing it.
"So what if you wanted to show Don you could do it better?"
Julian's breathing was heavier now, his jaw set tight. "Yes. Yes. I wanted him to see me," he said after a beat. "Just once. Not as the spare. Not as the liability. Not as the son he tolerated because blood is blood. I wanted him to look at me the way he looked at Luca."
He looked tired, tired enough to finally tell the truth. "And I did do better," Julian asserted.
