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Hell, I never thought I’d see the day when my brothers and I were reunited and living together again under the same roof. Let alone with three other people, one of which is a child.
Four weeks ago, when Rachel was killed, King and Rowen convinced me to allow Lee, Ace, and Olivia to move into our penthouse. It didn’t take much convincing because I was happy to make space for them. I didn’t want them going back to Ace’s trailer. We all need to stay together.
Last week, we were notified that the construction on our new home had been completed ahead of schedule and was ready for us. It came at the perfect time because our penthouse was getting cramped with three more people.
We began building this house a year ago, and now thinking about it, it’s like the universe was aware that one day Olivia, Lee, and Ace would be with us, and we needed the space for them. Funny how that worked out.
Our new home is located in the hills, miles away from the city, hidden away, and secluded. We wanted a private compound to create our perfect oasis. It took months to finalize the plans, but once we did, the build took nearly a year to complete.
Now that it’s done and we're moved in, it’s even better than I ever imagined. It’s everything we could’ve ever wanted and perfectly represents our three personalities.
Until now, my contact with the kid has been as minimal as possible. I was busy working at the office, and she'd already be asleep by the time I got home.
Plus, she’s too fucking nosey and blunt, just like her damn mother, which is crazy, considering Lee isn’t the one who raised her. Still, they have the same damn attitude.
I’ve never been a fan of children; if I’m honest, Olivia terrifies me. I’m not sure how to act or what to say. A few days ago, I mistakenly said “damn” around her, and she took it upon herself to start saying damn too.
Of course, I told her to stop, but she laughed in my face and continued to say it, telling me that, “Princesses can say whatever they want.” I have King to thank for that.
Between him, Rowen, Ace, and Lee, they’re spoiling the kid.
I get that she lost the only mother she’s ever known, but God damn. She’s driving me crazy.
Speaking of the miniature devil, I’m in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee when I feel eyes on me. Turning my head to the side, my eyes connect with Olivia, who is sitting on the barstool at the kitchen island eating a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal.
“What are you staring at?” I ask, taking a sip from my steaming mug of dark liquid.
“Can I have coffee, too?” she asks over a mouthful of cereal.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a kid.”
“So?”
“So, kids can’t have coffee.”
“Says who?”
This is partially why I avoid her. She asks too many damn questions. “Says me.” She seems to accept my answer and continues to shove a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. In a weird fucking way, she reminds me a lot of myself at her age. It makes my dead heart feel things it shouldn't.
“But you’re not the boss of me,” she challenges, dropping her spoon into her bowl of milk with a clank.
I roll my eyes. I don’t fucking have time for this. “When you’re in my house, you follow my rules. If you can’t follow the rules, you can find someplace else to live.” I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth.
The girl looks at me with her wide blue eyes that are now filling with tears, her bottom lip trembling as she stares at me. The tip of her nose turns red, and if she’s anything like her mother, she’s willing her tears not to fall. “I didn’t ask to live here!” she shouts, shoving the bowl of milk off the island. It crashes to the ground and shatters, milk and glass going everywhere.
I cannot take my eyes off her as I see the sadness and anger fighting on her little face.
Olivia climbs off the seat and runs out of the kitchen, leaving me feeling like the world's biggest piece of shit.
Grabbing the roll of paper towels, I squat down and begin cleaning up the mess. Carefully, I pick up the broken bowl and toss it into the trash, then mop after I’ve wiped the milk up.
Once I get the mess cleaned up, I walk upstairs to Olivia’s bedroom and walk in without knocking.
My eyes widen when I see the young girl beside her bed, shoving her clothes and toys into her backpack.
