I take the armchair and place the book I abandoned earlier back in my lap, though I already know there’s little hope of concentrating on a single word.
Hunter takes the chair beside me and says nothing, but I can feel his eyes on me the entire time.
I can’t believe I opened up like that.
To my surprise, it felt good.
It felt good to talk about her and to finally give voice to the guilt I’ve carried all these years.
A few minutes pass before Octavia and Milo wander in and drop down onto the carpet, where they promptly resume whatever ridiculous argument they’ve had going on.
Adelaide switches on the television before taking a seat on the sofa. Isaak joins her a moment later, though Adelaide makes a clear effort to keep space between them.
Or at least she tries to.
I barely make it through a paragraph before Octavia’s voice draws my attention away from the book.
“Oh, finally,” she says, looking up as Ophelia and Arlo come downstairs. “I’m starving.”
“You could’ve eaten,” Ophelia replies calmly. “There was no reason to wait for us.”
Octavia rolls her eyes but waves a hand dismissively. “Let’s eat. I’m sure whatever you made will be perfect.”
Milo looks up at Ophelia from where he sits on the floor, a grin is plastered on his face.
“Don’t tell me it’s another round of those bloody vegan meatballs, or whatever plant based crap you insist on eating.”
Ophelia laughs softly, shaking her head, but Arlo’s expression darkens instantly.
“If you don’t like what’s served, get your own fucking food. She doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”
Milo only smirks wider, entirely unbothered.
Ophelia turns and heads for the kitchen, with Arlo close behind.
“I see you’re all making yourselves rather comfortable.” Adelaide says, casting a pointed look in the men’s direction.
No one responds.
Clearly, they couldn’t care less. They’re here to stay.
After a few minutes, everyone makes their way to the kitchen to collect a plate before returning to the living room and spreading out wherever they can find space.
To be honest, we eat dinner to the sound of easy conversation.
The discussion flows, and since no one has thrown a knife at anyone yet, I’d say we’re doing remarkably well.
At one point, Isaak and Hunter fall into a conversation about work.
Milo contributes the occasional comment for no other reason than to provoke a reaction, most often from Octavia. Though, from what I’ve observed, he takes equal pleasure in irritating his cousin.
Adelaide looks at her phone as if she’s not even in the room, but then she speaks, which makes it obvious she’s been listening to every word said around her.
“For someone who prides himself on intellect, you’ve just proposed a decision that would get you and your men killed within the week.”
Isaak turns his attention to her slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“That’s a bold claim. Particularly from someone whose operations rely more on volatility than control.”
