Chapter 60
Piper
After our short nap, one I still have no idea how I managed to fall into, we head downstairs to find Adelaide already there with Isaak.
Ophelia had prepared dinner before our unexpected guests arrived, and now that I’ve worked up quite an appetite, I’m more than ready to eat.
I blush at the thought of exactly how that appetite came about.
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.”
“Volatility is only dangerous when you fail to control it. Fortunately, I’ve never had that problem.”
“I don’t recall asking for your unsolicited advice. This is a private conversation that doesn’t involve you.”
“And yet you’re having it in a room full of people. A fascinating interpretation of private.”
“I’m not entertaining this juvenile nonsense.”
Before the tension can escalate any further, Milo turns to Octavia with a grin.
“That’ll never be us, spitfire. We’re far too mad for each other to argue like that.”
“Are you genuinely stupid, or just naturally an idiot?”
Octavia shoots him a look of pure disgust.
“I told you I hate you, and everything your family represents. You could collapse right here, and I wouldn’t so much as move to help.”
“Damn it baby, keep talking dirty like that, but say it upstairs, while I’m buried deep inside you.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks at how casually he talks about... sex.
I drop my attention back to my book and pretend to read, but I catch Hunter watching me.
I don’t need to look to know that infuriatingly sly smile is currently on his face.
And that dimple.
“You’re completely unhinged,” I hear Octavia say.
The conversations resume, and before I know it, an hour or two has passed when Octavia pushes to her feet.
“All right, girls,” she announces, a wild grin on her face. “Time to get ready for our night out.”
Right.
I’d almost forgotten.
We’d talked about it earlier.
I hadn’t thought we’d actually go through with it.
The room stills slightly, and every pair of eyes turns to her.
Arlo’s expression tightens. “Night out?”
“Yes,” Octavia replies sweetly. “A night out. Girls only. Men are uninvited.” She pauses, then adds, “On second thought, you can keep Reyes with you.”
Adelaide’s expression changes for a brief moment, but the look vanishes almost as quickly as it appears.
“How considerate of you,” she says dryly. “Though I can’t imagine you’ll need me there to hold your hair when you inevitably drink yourself into poor decisions.”
Octavia’s head snaps towards her.
“That’s rich, coming from someone who built an entire personality on poor decisions.”
Isaak sends a dark look in Octavia’s direction, and Milo immediately sits up straighter, fixing him with a lethal glare.
But Ophelia stands before anything can spiral any further.
“Enough. You agreed to a truce for this trip. Keep your promise.”
I rise from the armchair, closing my book as I do.
“We’re going,” I say before turning to Octavia. “All of us. That includes Adelaide. You can manage one evening of civility.”
Octavia folds her arms, clearly displeased, but she doesn’t argue.
“Let’s go,” Ophelia says as she heads for the stairs.
I follow suit and make my way to my room, hoping the rest of the evening won’t end in disaster.
Because, quite frankly, I think there’s a very real chance we’ll all end up in a Swiss prison if Octavia and Adelaide fail to uphold this truce and alcohol finds its way into the equation.
I fear things could turn bloody rather quickly.