Victor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t be dense, Cyrus.” He and Cyrus had known each other for over a decade, and besides being Cyrus’ accountant, they’d become good friends. “I know love when I see it, and Lewis is definitely in love with you.” His voice softened. “And it’s even more definitely mutual.”
Although Victor appeared to be in his late twenties, he was closer to a hundred and fifty, having been turned at the Battle of Waterloo. Younger than Cyrus although only by a couple of decades, but that didn’t stop him giving advice when he thought Cyrus needed it.
“Maybe,” Cyrus said cautiously.