Chapter 8 Naomi #2
Unlike Trémaine, Tris opts for custom outfits that are anything but traditional.
Bold patterns, unexpected colors, the kind of tailoring that turns heads.
And it does. Women and men fall all over themselves trying to get a piece of him; my brother has two significant others, but you wouldn’t know it.
Despite their looks and charisma, my brothers didn’t have many friends growing up.
It wasn’t because they were stuck-up, as people liked to assume.
It was just how we were raised. Our parents instilled in us the belief that family was the only thing that truly mattered.
For the boys, that meant closing ranks and keeping everyone else at arm’s length.
They were a fortress of three, bound by our motto: All we have is all we need.
A fight with one brother meant a fight with all three, so nobody fucked with them. They came off as badass; girls wanted them, guys wanted to be them. Academics came easily to them, and they never failed to excel at their chosen sports.
People hated them for it. And honestly, my brothers didn’t care. They were too busy protecting each other—and me.
Daddy had made sure of it. “Boys,” he’d say. “You protect the women in this family like your lives depend on it. A woman who feels undervalued is a feast for the wolves of the world.”
They were my personal bodyguards, pit bulls dressed in fine clothes, who also happened to shower me with love and compliments.
Back then, it had been impossible for me to doubt myself, even on my worst days.
Too bad it hadn’t stayed that way. But that same mentality had made them insufferable to deal with sometimes.
Thankfully, college loosened them up, forced them to step outside their little trio, and connect with other people.
Max went into business, Trémaine pursued law, and Tristan, true to form, took up fashion design.
Their majors dragged them in different directions, giving them the space to let others in.
Still, some things never change.
Sunday is family day. It always has been, and it always will be. No matter how busy we get, all of us come together—if not in person, then on a call. We check in with each other, with Momma and Daddy. It’s the one day a week the walls come down, and for a moment, it’s just us.
Just as I grab my bag from the table, I hear my brother’s teasing voice down the hall.
“Yeah, Captain America is coming home, so she’s all in a tizzy.
” Tris chuckles, filling my parents in on Christian's homecoming, and I huff a sigh.
“Wait, wait, wait! I think royalty has finally decided to join us! Ni, is that you out there?”
“Must you continue to call him that?” I yell back from the hall.
“I’ll stop just as soon as the asshole stops acting so self-righteous.”
I roll my eyes, entering the office to see my three brothers crowded around Max’s laptop, talking to Momma and Daddy on the screen.
“Good morning, pretty girl,” Max greets, pulling me in for a hug before offering his seat.
“Good morning, my baby,” Momma says, her smile lighting up the screen as I tuck into Max’s plush office chair.
Daddy’s eyes soften as he greets me, “How are you today, Ma Fleur?”
I settle in to talk to my parents, trying to shake the lingering fog from last night. “I’m okay, just…woke up a little late. I don’t know what happened,” I answer, sensing the concern that immediately flickers across both their faces.
“Are you feeling alright?” Daddy asks, his gaze flickers to Max behind me, who must have silently signaled some reassurance because my father's brows unfurrow, the deep V in the center loosening.
I clench my jaw, irritation simmering just beneath the surface.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d ask me instead of Max.
I’m right here.” I start to let my irritation out, but stop.
We’ve been down this road too many times.
“You know what, I have an appointment, so I’ve got to go.
” I wave him off, dismissing my frustration.
I try hard not to argue with my parents. I hate the tension.
“No, baby! Stay, talk to me just a little more. I miss you,” Momma pouts, her silver pixie cut catching the light.
She cut it last year before the move, and it frames her delicate features, offsetting her beautiful, deep brown skin.
She’s a vision—radiant, with a sunshine charm that makes the world bow to her.
Respected and adored, she commands every room she steps into.
I wish I could command a fraction of that respect, especially from my own family.
“I’m sorry, Momma. I’m gonna be late.” I stand, smoothing out my clothes. “I’ll video call later if you’re still awake.”
“You look beautiful today, sweet girl,” she says, smiling, though I see the sting of my hasty departure in her autumn ember eyes.
At least I inherited her sense of style, because I surely did not inherit the dazzling eyes that my whole family has.
It’s weird; I’ve seen pictures of my parents from when they were younger.
Their eye color seems to have changed almost overnight.
It happened to all of them, but they had explained it away as genetics.
When I once asked if it would happen to me, Max harshly changed the subject. And with the memory of his heavy breathing and clenched fist, I never brought it up again.
“Thanks, Momma,” I give her one last smile. “Bye, everyone.” I make my way around my brothers, on a fast track toward the door, when Tris grabs my wrist, tugging me back to him.
“You look beautiful, Sunshine.” He started calling me that because he knew how much I wanted to be like Momma—Daddy calls her Solèy, meaning sunshine—it's Tris’ way of telling me I’m just as beautiful, tough, and resilient as her…
I don’t think he knows how much it means to me.
He places a kiss on my head and hugs me close while Tré and Max continue the call.
“I know you’re nervous about your designs, but they are going to love them. They always do.”
Usually, at least one of my brothers sees right through me, but he’s wrong this time.
The reason I’m nervous isn’t my own design; it’s the uncertainty of walking out the door.
Someone was in our house last night, and they don’t even know it.
If I tell them, they will suffocate me in a way that I can’t handle right now.
So, I smile up at him as radiantly as I can and say, “Thanks, Tris. You always know the right things to say.”
The satisfied look on his face tells me that he’s bought my fragile facade. I slip out of his arms, continuing along my way.
“Ni, don’t forget we have a guest coming by at six,” Max calls out.
“I didn’t forget.” I toss over my shoulder, without slowing down.