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“I’m not doing this.”
I throw away the vegetables I’m supposed to be preparing, but Dad catches them before they reach the sink, then pushes them against my chest. “Keep cutting if you want to eat tonight.”
“We can just order something.” I’m in in no mood to cook, because not only was I ambushed by my family out of nowhere, but Elsa and Teal have been with Anastasia for exactly twenty-three minutes and fifty-four seconds, talking about fuck knows what.
Maybe my twin sister is bringing up the psycho side of both of us and telling her what an absolute arse I am.
Maybe they’re hurting her.
A strong hand clutches me by the shoulder, swinging my attention to the present. “Relax, it’s going fine.”
He’s smiling and has the audacity to be all relaxed. Though this is in fact his usual mood.
Ethan Steel might own a large corporation, but he doesn’t show his business beast side in front of us.
I don’t remember the last time I saw him mad, and when he is, it’s usually because of his children—us.
“You don’t have the right to say that when you brought them here without telling me. This is a low blow and I’m officially not giving you a present on Dad’s day.”
“First of all, I can’t take sides with you. That’s a sure way to start a war. Second of all, if I don’t get my present, I’ll just bring them both back here again.”
I narrow my eyes and he narrows his back. “Now, chop-chop. No takeaways.”
Sighing, I grab the potato and start chopping. I can’t help glaring at him now and again. Despite being in his mid-fifties, Dad looks way younger than that. His hair is still a dark blond with barely any white strands and his eyes are a deep blue, which is the only thing he passed down to Elsa—his biological daughter.
The look in his gaze is wise and collected, as if he’s seen the whole world and nothing could perturb him anymore.
He comes from money—old, powerful, and influential. However, he didn’t only use what he inherited to get where he is today. He invested it and started countless business ventures that made him tenfold richer and more untouchable than his father ever was.
But when we were growing up, he didn’t allow us to be spoiled by that money, never let us use it as a blanket excuse for our actions or a crutch we could fall back on when things didn’t work out.
We have one motto in our family—everyone is responsible for their own actions.
Even Dad himself.
Sometimes, it feels as if he brought together people who could never fit in the same puzzle, and yet, we somehow do.
We’re somehow the most cohesive family I know.
Despite our dark and bloody past.
“Since you’ve brought the whole of London, why didn’t you finish the job and invite Agnus so he could cook?”
“He came with us, but he chose to finish some pending work at the hotel.” He smiles at the mention of his childhood friend/right-hand man-turned-husband. “And he’s Dad to you.”
“No way in fuck will I call him Dad after I’ve known him as Agnus all my life.”
“Teal does that just fine. Or you could call him Papa, like Elsa does.”
“Eww, no way in fuck. And Elsa does that just to egg him on. She still doesn’t like him, in case you didn’t notice.”
“She’ll get there.”
“Those are empty dreams and you know it, Dad.”
A dark look covers his features and I realize I fucked up by reminding him of facts he doesn’t like to think about. My father’s personal life has always been a mess of epic proportions. His first wife, Elsa’s mother, was a psycho who captured me and Teal after we ran away from our mother, because she wanted us to look like her lost son.
As if that wasn’t enough, he was shot by her and spent nine years in a coma, during which time, Agnus took care of us. And when he woke up, it was like he’d become a different person. When we were young, he used to be more outgoing, but after sleeping for almost a decade, he changed.
