Marczak Weronika Rodzina Monet Perełka 03 2 Rodzina Monet 400 566

Machine Translated by Google
– Dylan! – I cried even before I saw him, as if I couldn't accept the thought
that he might not be here. I almost had a heart attack because I didn't see it
at first.
But he was here.
He was crouched by the radiator, his mouth pressed to the rope. There
was an impressively large puddle of saliva next to him, and he spit into it
when he saw me.
– Hailie!
There was relief and absolute confusion in his voice.
“Dylan,” I moaned, bursting into tears. I wanted so badly to hold him and
feel safe, and knowing that he couldn't give me that security right now was
terrible.
He must have felt the same way, because his dark eyes hid clearly visible
pain.
-Did you run away?
I nodded, biting my lip. Oh, he didn't even know what I went through. I
needed comfort so badly, but there was no time for it. “Great, baby girl,
yeah…” Dylan was nodding frantically, a look of extra motivation blooming
on his face. – One more second, okay?
Can you do it one more second?
I started nodding too, and he started biting his rope again. Apparently he
changed his tactics while I was gone. He spat into the puddle again, spitting
out saliva mixed with bits of rope.
It was tedious work, but probably not ineffective.
I looked around, wondering how I could help him, and silently cursing the
fact that I no longer had a knife.
Instead, I looked at the shoe I still held in one hand.
It was good for few things, especially after so much walking, but its heel was
still quite pointy, so I dropped to my knees next to Dylan and started jabbing
at his rope with it. I grimaced at the sight of his now blue wrists.
He bit, and when he spat, I stabbed. I finally realized that the stupid shoe wasn't
helping as much as I wanted, so I threw it aside and used my teeth. We took turns
tugging at Dylan's rope like rodents.
It was getting thinner and thinner, yes, but it took too long and at one point the steel
door clicked behind me.
I froze and felt shivers down my spine.
Dylan looked up, his mouth still pressed to the rope, and I
I turned my head slowly and shuddered once more.
This woman was standing in the basement doorway.
Her hairstyle was intact. Her eyes were still bulging and her nostrils were flaring
as she panted angrily. She was still wrapped in a gold scarf, and in one of her
hands she held Sonny's knife.
The blade was bloody, but it didn't seem to have lost its usefulness.
The woman held the knife upright, with its tip pointing towards the ceiling. Her
fingers gripped the handle tightly until they turned white.
Dylan frowned, released the rope from his mouth, and looked up, a string of
saliva dripping from his chin. He analyzed the woman's face with a focused
expression, and she looked at him with the same concentration.
“You…” my brother hissed, but stopped, as if he wasn't sure about something, didn't
believe it.
She looked at him too. She looked at him as carefully as she had looked at me
before. Finally, she tilted her head back a little and grimaced, as if she didn't like
something.
– You look so much like him.
Dylan narrowed his eyes and I looked between him and her, most confused of
all. I cringed when the woman unexpectedly returned my gaze.
– To her too. You are similar to her, too, she whispered. - Very.
– Uh, because she's my sister? – Dylan growled, scowling at her.
– Stepgirl! – she hissed immediately.
– Who cares what kind?
The woman let out a bitter laugh.
– Not many, that's true. – She nodded. – The whole world has forgotten.
Dylan stared at her in disbelief, but also a pinch of fear, it seemed to

me. This is a look intended for insane people.
– Forget what? – I asked quietly, feeling like I was the only one missing
something here. My brother shook his head almost imperceptibly, motioning
for me to keep quiet.
– Good question, Pearl – the woman praised me. – Just a bit poorly
worded. “She wrapped the scarf tighter around herself and still held the
knife in one hand. – It should be: “Forget who?” Ask.
I glanced at Dylan.
He looked at the woman, eyebrows knitted and lips pursed.
- Ask! – she growled at me.
I started.
– Forget who? – I mumbled.
“About her,” she replied. –Lindsay Brockenshire.
I took a breath.
“Her name was Monet,” Dylan growled.
– The name Monet was her curse!
Seeing that neither I nor Dylan were arguing with her, she calmed down
and continued:
– It ruined her life. Her real name is Brockenshire.
“Oh, that's a dick, she married our father and her last name was Monet,” Dylan argued.
– And what's more, no one has forgotten about her. What are you talking about anyway?
The woman grimaced, but then her expression turned haughty again.
– Your choice of vocabulary disgusts me, boy, but I know that your
mother was not there to teach you your culture. And if by
most of your childhood, your only example was your idiotic father, here are the
results.
– Get away from my…
“Dylan,” I whispered warningly. He was too easily fooled, but he knew it because
he listened to me and fell silent, and then I swallowed and looked back at the
woman. – Uh, we're very sorry. I just don't really understand what we're doing here.
Can we... somehow... help you?
I did my best to sound polite and not upset her, now that she was finally
accepting that I was opening up to her.
mouth.
– Your bastard sister has better manners than you. Shame. – The woman
assumed the expression of a martyr. – I'm sure Lissy is looking down on this and
hurting.
– Yeah, she's definitely hurting because I'm cursing, not because of her
my sister is a crazy psycho...
– Crazy! – she roared and swung her knife. – I'm the only one who respects her
memory! Look at yourself, your siblings, your terrible father!
– What did my siblings and father do to you?
– Camden Monet is a scoundrel like no other! – she shouted and looked at me
furiously. – In what month were you born?
I swallowed.
“In… November,” I whispered.
– So you were conceived in March. – She nodded quickly, because she
obviously had everything calculated anyway. She turned to Dylan, "What month
did your mother die?"
- What for…
- In which month?! – She swung the knife again. She probably did it
unconsciously, but it still scared us because Dylan and I pursed our lips and
flinched every time.
- In January.
The woman smiled wryly.
“Three months,” she said and shook her head, pulling the scarf tighter around her
again, letting it slip from her shoulders as she made more impulsive movements. –
Less than three months have passed since his wife's death, and he has already
impregnated an alien bimbo.
Dylan and I were silent again, and the woman snorted dryly.
– No one can tell me that he loved her. This one here…” She pointed at me with
the knife. – …is proof that it was otherwise. And I'm not the only one who knows that,
unfortunately,' she sighed, closing her eyes. - Everyone knows it. Since the world
learned about your Pearl, that is, since you so willingly welcomed her under your
roof, Lissa's humiliation has reached its zenith.
– What a relief…
– You took her and treated her as your own! A strange girl, the fruit of an affair of
an insane father! – she shouted, waving the tip of the knife at me. The curls around
her face flowed as she made these dramatic gestures. – How are you not ashamed
to desecrate your mother's memory like this? She wasted her life alongside this cruel
man, for you, among others, and this is how you repay her.
- She is dead! “Dylan exclaimed and moved the rope as if to throw his arms in the
air or spread them out. – Even if you're pissed at our father, even though it's none of
your damn business, how he was going through his own grief, what the hell did Hailie
do to you?
“Your Hailie is a symbol of Lindsay's humiliation,” she drawled. – Her very
existence already causes disgust, but the scale of bitterness overflowed when you
took her in without a word a little over two years ago. – She furrowed her eyebrows
in disgust. – How could you? Lindsay was betrayed by her own children. The world
learned of Camden's infidelity, how quickly he consoled himself after my sister's
death. – The woman took a shaky breath. – What a shame for poor Lissa.
I watched the woman towering over us with horror on my face. I had a hard time
accepting the fact that, according to her explanations, I played a bigger role in the
whole mess than I had initially expected.
– And everyone quickly picked up on Monet's new eye, didn't they? – Her voice
was filled with sugar venom. – A sweet, charming child, dressed in a beautiful dress.
Doesn't that tell you something? Not something
reminds? Lissa's Doll was quickly forgotten in favor of the Coin Pearl, huh? – This
time the woman pressed her fingers against her breasts, where both ends of her
scarf met. – Not only did you disgrace her memory, but you also completely buried
it. It was so easy to replace Lissy…
– Wait, wait… – Dylan looked at the floor, thinking hard.

I could see that he was really giving her words a chance, but no matter how he
analyzed them, he couldn't find any meaning in them. – So you're saying we
replaced our mother with a sister? Are you okay?
– I will only feel good, child, when I help you properly replace Lissy with your
Pearl. Since you want it so much, I promised myself that I would make it easier for
you, she said dryly, her blue eyes gleaming and darkening alternately.
Every time I heard him talk about me, it sent shivers down my spine.
- I don't understand. Dylan shook his head. – Maybe I'm fucking stupid, but I
don't understand. My mother is dead, so to avenge her, you wanted to hurt a
teenager who has nothing to do with her? Who did nothing and went through hell
alone? Is this what it looks like? Are you missing the fifth stick?
I wanted to nudge him to stop being so nervous. For now, the woman seemed
to deserve all the insults in the world, but calling her names didn't seem like a safe
path. It was obvious that she was also starting to get irritated. Her lips twisted.
“Outrageous,” she said. – If Lissy heard her son speak like that... You can hear
the devil's seed speaking through you.
We all know whose. My poor sister…” The woman sighed dramatically once again,
but quickly raised her head and narrowed her eyes. – I wanted to kill you all, I
admit, and maybe I should have done so. Wipe off the face of the earth those who
received Lissa's love and yet so horribly disrespected it.
Dylan blinked, unused to hearing so many threats at once.

Here I tried to use my usually calm nature, because maybe I could talk to her. It
was obvious that she spoke willingly now.
“But for some reason you didn't,” I said quietly, drawing her gaze to me. – You
changed your mind.
She lifted her chin higher and looked at me through the thin slits of her narrowed
eyes.
– It's not an easy task, especially when it comes to Vincent. It's impossible, of
course, it's too well protected.
“But… I…” Dylan's cerebral ganglia were overheating beneath his skull. – I don't
get it again. Were you trying to get Vince too? Why the hell?
The woman smacked her lips, irritated that she had to explain everything to us.
At the same time, there was so much bitterness in her voice, as if she needed to blurt
out what had been on her heart for many years.
– He was the one who decided to take this girl under his wing in the first place,
wasn't he? And I believed he was smarter. Of all of you, he must remember Lissy the
most. It was for him that she gave up her bodyguard. – She shuddered. – Oh, God,
you could say that she gave her life for him... And this ingrate? Please, he just
trampled on his mother's memory.
“But you changed your mind, something made you do it,” I repeated, desperately
trying to steer her in the right direction, although I could barely speak because my
throat was tight, overcome by her hatred.
She looked at me with contempt.
“Pregnant, wench,” she growled. I automatically looked at her belly, which could
have been quite large, the loose dress covered it well, but the woman snorted. – I've
already given birth, stupid. I gave birth and in the meantime I understood something.
– She straightened up haughtily. – I realized that for a mother, even if her children are
stupid, attachment does its job, and I feel sorry for them. I think at the end of the day
Lissy wouldn't want to take revenge on her sons. She lifted her chin, proud of her
conclusions. – But someone still deserved revenge. I kept thinking about your Pearl,
but I started acting again when it turned out that Cam Monet was alive after all.
The woman paused for a moment and had to take a breath to deal with her anger,
and I kept my eyes on the knife she was still holding.
in hand. It's a shame she was gripping it so tightly because there was no way she would
drop it and I would have loved to get my hands on it.
– What a relief it was when he supposedly died. Justice, maybe peace.
– The woman's lips curled into a horseshoe shape. – And he came back. The monster has
returned from the dead! He deserved more harm than ever before. I couldn't move you, so
no matter what, I decided to get your Pearl, a poor imitation of Lissa that you all play with
so much. This is the perfect option, you admit, because not only will Lissa's nightmare
suffer, but it will also hurt Cam. Two birds with one stone, as they say.
Her face now took on a stern expression. I had the impression that the wrinkles that I
had previously considered delicate had now deepened. Her anger aged her by at least two
decades.
– You guard her so much that it was not easy to break through, but I finally managed.
– She snorted with satisfaction. – We had every ball covered, but ironically, it was at her
own brother's engagement that it was easiest to get her. Even with the side effect of having
to capture you too, Dylan. If you hadn't grabbed her like that, it would have made it easier
for all of us. – My brother stared at her in disbelief. I think it was the first time I saw him at
a loss for words. But I actually had more of them.
“Is…” I started, pressing my numb hands against the cool concrete floor. – Did you want
a strange man to hurt me because that's what... their mother ended up doing?
Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Dylan, who flinched as if he'd been electrocuted.
- What? – he gasped, almost spitting.

He was overcome with rage again and began to tug at the ropes. I've never seen him
so helpless.
“Don't even talk about her, child, you have no right,” the woman hissed.
“And then…” I continued in an emotionless whisper, “he had me…
murder? How was she murdered?
At the end my voice shook.
– Are you crazy?! - Dylan roared at her, frowning and yanking his arms so hard that for
one beautiful moment I thought he had managed to
snatch. Unfortunately, it was just a false impression.

– Both of you, be silent! – the woman exclaimed. Her face became even redder
and her forehead even glistened with sweat. – You ignorant people both live in your
own bubble, blind to each other's feelings! I am disgusted by your, God bless you,
family!
– What do you care about our family?! – Dylan growled. – You don't belong to her.
Our mother belonged, you didn't...
– Lindsay was MY family! – she roared shrilly, and for the first time tears glistened
in her eyes. – She was everything to me! And you took her away from me. You took
her away, she gave everything for you, and now you can't even love her and honor
her in return? Appreciate her?
Instead, you're making out with some girl you don't know. Lindsay should never have
married Cam or had children for him, she should never have moved out of the house,
left…
– She shouldn't have had her own life, right? – Dylan interjected. – Is that what
you want to say?
– She left me alone! She was the only person I could count on in this damn family.
Of all my sisters, she was the only one who understood me and stood up for me when
my father raised a hand against us.
Guess who defended me when she moved out?
Even though her scarf slipped again, she didn't fix it this time. She now held the
knife down, both hands clenched tightly into fists.
– We were inseparable and suddenly she disappeared. Cam Monet caused her
problems, which made her shine fade so quickly... Because of him and you, I lost my
sister, and you all didn't deserve her so much!
Abundant tears flowed down her cheeks, her eyes became red and swollen, and
her lipstick smeared. What was happening right in front of me and Dylan, that is, the
woman's crying, was something like a volcano of emotions that had been dormant for
years, and now erupted, flooding her body with the long-suppressed lava of despair
and regret.
It was hard for me to watch. I have never in my life seen with my own eyes so
much pain or so many unpleasant emotions in one person.
At first I leaned back because the sight terrified me.
I felt the need to comfort her, to calm her down. I couldn't watch such suffering
and feel anything other than compassion, despite the situation that Dylan and I
found ourselves in because of the woman's fault.
I parted my lips to speak to her soothingly, even to say her name, but I didn't
know it.
Dylan seemed as beguiled by her behavior as I was.
In his case, however, the shock lasted shorter, and he probably didn't feel
sorry for her that much. Suddenly, as if he had pulled himself together, he bent
over his wrists and with renewed energy, even faster than before, he started
tugging at the ropes with his teeth.
And I flinched - once, then twice, because I didn't know whether to listen to my
instincts that advised me to get up.
The woman almost fell to the ground. She burst into tears, choked, and
seemed to want to say something more, as if someone had given her permission
to do so for the first time in her life, and she was afraid that she would lose it
forever if she didn't use this chance.
I rose on trembling legs.
I was weak myself. My body got cold, not to mention the effort it had to endure.
What about mental wounds? They were cutting into her, causing only a headache
for now, heralding a heavy dose of suffering later.
If I can survive this "later".

I took a step towards the woman. Very slow. And then the second one.
She looked at me through tear-filled eyes and her face twisted ugly. Tears washed
away her makeup, her hair was disheveled, and she had gone from an elegant
lady to a pauper in expensive jewelry.
“I'm so sorry you lost your beloved sister,” I whispered loudly to her so she
could hear me. I tried to sound compassionate and gentle in my words.
– Hailie. – It was Dylan who hissed at me in warning. – Stop.

“I'm sorry you didn't find peace,” I added, biting my lip hesitantly as I
reached out to her with very slow movements. I wanted to hug her, but at the
same time not scare her with familiar gestures. I felt she needed it.
My heart trembled as I wrapped my arms around her stocky figure, hidden

beneath the expensive fabric of her floral dress, and she cried even harder. It
barely reached my chin, that's how much shorter it was than me. At one point
she placed her forehead on my shoulder, immediately soaking my skin with
her tears.
“You don't know…” she choked out, barely intelligible, “how much it hurts.
I took a ragged breath, feeling agony at the sight of her
agony, and then suddenly Dylan spoke again.
“I know this kind of pain,” he said in a completely changed, serious voice.
"I feel a little bad just thinking about losing her." “I turned my head slightly, just
in time to see him looking at the woman and pointing his chin at me. – She is
as much a breath for me, for us, as your mother was for you. “Dylan swallowed,
and the woman sobbed softly, as if trying to listen to him. – That's why I,
Lissa's son, am asking you to let go of Hailie. She is not to blame for this
tragedy. It doesn't deserve to be paid for.
The woman hugged me tightly, tighter and tighter, like a dearest friend in a
difficult moment. I allowed her to release her despair on me, putting her own
comfort into the background. She needed help so much...
Finally she raised her head. Her round face was so pitiful and her eyes
were filled with anguish that I didn't know what to say.
I froze as she moved her mouth next to my ear. I leaned in slightly.
“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

And then I felt something wet and warm under my ribs.
I frowned, wondering what had just spilled there, and it wasn't until the
woman moved away from me and backed away that I realized she was
missing something.
She didn't have a knife in her hand.
I glanced down.
She didn't have it because she just stuck it in my stomach.
78
ANOTHER REASON,
TO FALL ASLEEP
I let out a long breath that seemed to last forever.

The woman hit her back against the wall, her chest heaving rapidly and her eyes
staring at me with fear.
Then I realized that I had gone deaf for a moment, because when he came back to me
hearing suddenly came to me, I realized how loudly Dylan was screaming.
I clumsily reached down to pull out the knife. I tightened my weak fingers around
its handle.
– Don't take it out, no! – my brother roared at me.
I removed my hand and swayed as my legs began to refuse
obedience. They became unable to support their body weight.
The woman looked at me, and by the look on her face you could tell she didn't
realize what she had done. Lost in her torment and stupor, she fell out of the
basement as suddenly as she had entered it.
– Stop, help her! Help her! “Dylan shouted, struggling with the ropes and looking
at me in absolute horror.
I crouched down, letting out a shaky breath, shallower than the previous one.
For some reason, it became impossible for me to take full breaths. I moved my
hands around my stomach, looking for a way to help myself. I could not.
Dylan was now biting the ropes like crazy, spitting and cutting his wrists until
they bled. He didn't pay attention to whether he was also pulling the rope between
his teeth.
“Dylan,” I choked out. Leaning on my thigh, I pulled myself up towards him. It
took way too much effort for me.
Dylan wanted to talk to me, but his mouth was occupied. He went into a frenzy
and I saw tears flowing down his cheeks.
“Dylan, I have to take it out,” I whispered.
He spat into a puddle and looked at me with painfully concerned eyes. His dark
irises were filled with such strong emotions that I cried myself.
- NO! You'll bleed out!

– And so… I… bleed out… – I winced because at first I didn't
I felt almost no pain at all, and now it was only getting stronger.
“Don't take out the knife, I'll be free soon…” Dylan went back to struggling with
the rope, and I believed that at that moment he was ready to tear his arm off to
free himself. I've never seen him in such a frenzy.
The idea of me dying here in front of him while he fought was so incredibly
tragic to me that it hurt more than a stab wound. Just to be sure that he will be
free. What if he can't handle it and someone comes here and kills him too? What
if I die before he can bite the rope and then he loses his strength and suddenly
doesn't care?
Now at least he will try to save us as quickly as possible. And myself above all.
He didn't see me tighten my grip on the hilt again. He only realized what I had
done when I put the blade stained red with my blood under his nose.
- NO!!! – he let out a panicked cry. His face hovered above

his wrists bound as he looked at me in horror.
I didn't feel much of a difference. When I pulled out the knife, I only felt colder.
The pain, unfortunately, did not subside.
Gasping with effort, I pulled myself even closer to Dylan's hand and used the
last of my strength to stab at his ropes.
Every raise of my hand and moment of concentration made my vision go dark.
The already frayed rope gave way quickly, given such a good knife treatment,
and within seconds Dylan's wrists were free. My brother swung them blindly to
shake the rope, and it had not yet fallen to the ground when he was reaching for
me. I was finally able to lie down, although this position did not bring me any relief.
Dylan placed his hand on my wound, causing it to rip through my body

another wave of pain came through.
“Wait, hold on, wait…” he panicked and cried.

He was really crying, desperately choking on tears.
He looked around and jumped at the golden scarf that the woman had lost there.
He placed it on my wound and immediately wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
I let out a long hiss as I felt him lift me up.
I stared at the ceiling, but I couldn't see much. Sometimes I could only see
Dylan's face contorted with hysteria as he glanced at me, but most of the time he
kept his head straight in front of him as he tried to escape the building.
I squeezed my eyes shut from time to time, mostly because of the pain. Every
little step Dylan took was causing it, but he was running, and even though I was
sure he was trying to cushion his sudden movements, I couldn't stand it anymore.
It got a little better when he climbed the stairs and ran with me down the hall. At one
point I tilted my head back, looking for a more comfortable position. Dylan forced one of my
hands to apply pressure on the wound, but I don't know if I was doing a good job. It all took
too much effort for me.
– EY!!! – he shouted at me when my eyes closed. He jerked me around in his

arms too, and I winced, but blinked consciously. –
Exit, where is the exit...?!

Dylan was screaming or muttering the words under his breath, I don't know, but
I couldn't help him.
And then, as my head hung limply again, upside down, I saw a grate at the
bottom of one of the doors we passed, and that set off an alarm in my head.
There was a garage there, right?
I thoughtlessly stretched out my hand and at the last moment I snapped my

fingers on the door handle, but Dylan was running so fast that unfortunately my
hand immediately slipped off it.
I groaned, not having the strength to protest any louder.
But he stopped.
- What is?! What are you doing? – I closed my eyes and my hand was hanging.
I felt my brother turn around.
He didn't have his hands free, but the terrifyingly strong kick he aimed at the
door was enough to blow it off its hinges.
“Okay,” he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the cars it hid
room. – Good, yes, good job, girl…
I opened my eyes just in time to see that the door that my brother had smashed
was leaning crookedly against the back of one of the cars. And then I shuddered
as I saw a mustachioed man in black trousers and an elegant red jacket stop in
the doorway.
- Hi! – he exclaimed, widening his eyes. – What's going on here...
Dylan turned to him.

“Help, please,” he cried pleadingly. I've never heard before
for him to speak in that tone. - This is my sister. He dies. Please.
The man blinked, then looked around the hall.
– What… How do you…
– Please, damn it, please! – Dylan shouted.

I felt dizzy again, but I tried to focus and look at the man as soberly as I could
through my half-closed eyes.
eyelids.
Let him help us.
He returned my gaze, suddenly turning pale. He even covered his mouth with
his hand; it was clearly unusual for him to see such dramatic scenes.
He hesitated for a moment, looked around again, then ran into the garage and
pointed Dylan to one of the cars, the one closest to the exit.
– Get in there.
Dylan had no choice but to trust him and drove towards the low sports car,
immediately getting into the driver's seat with me in his arms.
First he made sure to slide my legs in, which rested on the passenger seat.
I tried to cooperate with him as much as I could, but the gymnastics were too
painful and all I could do was whimper.
– Now, young one, now.
“It hurts,” I moaned.

– I know, just a moment.
Dylan piled into the seat and immediately tilted it back to get more
space and be able to comfortably rest my head on my lap.
During this time, the man helping us got the keys for us, and on the way, passing the
switches, he activated one of them and the garage door started to go up. We were greeted
by an unfriendly darkness outside.
It was night. Another reason to fall asleep.

The car woke up and roared. Dylan shouted something to the man over the
engine. In response, he frantically explained something to him.
I think they were talking about the hospital. Poor Dylan, he didn't even know where
we were.
I winced as he patted my cheek forcefully. It hurt, but I regained some
consciousness. I saw my brother taking the call from this good man above my
face. Is he an employee of this big house?
I don't know, but he gave Dylan his cell phone. I almost started crying when
my brother pulled up the maps and used voice commands to order
navigate to the nearest hospital.

“The gate will be open at the end,” the man promised, and for the last time,
seeing his now stern but worried face and the compassionate eyes that
happened to be looking at me, I heard him whisper, “Good luck.”
– It's okay, Hailie, can you hear me? – Dylan was saying when the door
slammed and he took off with a screech of tires. He squinted his eyes, even
the red and black ones, focused on driving in the dark in unfamiliar areas.
– Mhm…
– I have navigation, we're going to the hospital. I'll take us, okay? You just
have to endure, right?
I wasn't comfortable, but I was glad to be on his lap and able to see him.
He glanced at me every now and then, making sure I didn't close my eyes.
And when I did that, he pinched my cheek as if it was a mischief, but it wasn't
a joke, otherwise he wouldn't have panicked so much.
Something was pressing into my wound, something was missing from

there. I couldn't forget this feeling of incompleteness that tormented me as
much as the pain. I lay there stiffly, afraid to make any move. Breathing was
becoming less and less possible.
“Be open, be open,” Dylan whispered under his breath, staring
passionately into the glass. His hands were clenched on the steering wheel.
- Gate? Is the gate open...? – I groaned.

He was silent for a moment, squinting constantly, until a wave of relief
flooded his face.
- Yes! – he exclaimed happily. – It's open, let's go, girl. Already
we're going, we left, we're going to the hospital...
I swallowed. I couldn't share his excitement. I didn't think I'd have a chance to go on
like this for long. I was so afraid of death and felt it close, so I had to share my fears with
Dylan.
“I think I'm dying,” I muttered.

“It's just a little blood, little girl.”
– They were, Dylan.
"I know," he groaned. – But it's good that it hurts, it means you understand what's
going on, that's a good sign.
He lied.
-I don't want it to hurt...

Dylan leaned even further over the wheel, then took one hand off it and grabbed the
phone. Without looking at the screen, he punched in a number he knew by heart.
“Just a little longer,” he whispered, waiting for the connection. He suddenly perked up.
-Vince!
He called Vincent. This awareness brought me some relief that I didn't expect to feel
in such conditions. I couldn't hear our oldest brother's icy voice, but I imagined it and
started swimming until Dylan's fingers pinched my cheek again.
“No sleeping,” he reminded me. -Vince, I... I have to make sure she doesn't sleep...
He was talking into the receiver and to me at the same time. He would arrange something
with Vincent and then pinch me to shake me from the tentacles of sleep.
And maybe even death.
– EJ! - he shouted, making me jump. He's already put the phone down. The navigation
system was saying something in an automatic voice. She told me to turn somewhere
soon. Dylan tried to follow the dark road carefully while paying enough attention to me.
– Hey, come on, tell me something.
- What? – I sighed and grimaced.
– I don't know, something I don't know!
I strained my mind just because I knew it was important. I had no chance of surviving,
but Dylan tried so hard... It was for him that I wanted to fight as long as possible.
“Remember…” I gasped, trying to form a sentence. – … when I visited Maya and

Monty in Saint Tropez?
– Oh, yes, last holiday, right? – he picked up on it, obviously happy that I started
telling him something.
– Then we went to a party and… got drunk.

My throat was dry and my head was spinning.
- Yes? - Dylan laughed, not taking his eyes off the windshield. – What were you drinking?
– No… I know… different things… tequila, I guess? – I wanted to crouch down, but I
couldn't, there was no room here. Only then did I remember that I was holding a gold scarf
over the wound, just as Dylan had instructed me earlier.
I felt my fingers getting sticky. The scarf was soaked with blood.
– Are you talking about tequila? – he continued, and there was still a hint of panic in his
gentle, slightly amused and slightly absent voice. – With lemon and salt, I hope?
“Mhm…” I moaned as an extremely strong wave of pain washed over me just like –ÿ…
that.
– Maya knows what's good.
I frowned not only from effort, but also from surprise.

- You are not angry?
“What are you doing?” he snorted. – Just wait until we get wasted together at your eighteenth
birthday party.
“Vince said he wouldn't let me drink until I was twenty-one,” I reminded him, pausing
between words.
Since breathing was a challenge for me, stringing together sentences was almost a mission
impossible.
– We'll make an exception.
– We also smoked… then… a cigar…

Just remembering it, I smiled gently at the ceiling of the car.
“We'll do that too,” Dylan caught on immediately. – I know where Vince keeps his best
plays.
I wanted to laugh, but instead I winced in pain.
– What else, tell me, what else? – he urged me.
I opened my eyes; I don't even know when I closed it. I reached out
memory of holidays in France.
– We managed to confuse Sonny…
Dylan fell silent and I whimpered softly and long. This time the pain also reached my
heart.
“Dylan…” I whispered. My mouth went dry. I could barely articulate sounds anymore.
I hoped my brother still understood me, even though I could see him straining his ears,
focused on driving fast.
– I promised him something when he was dying...
Because I didn't know yet that I would die myself.

“If…” I swallowed thickly. – If necessary… will you support Lea?
In my name?
There was a hiss as Dylan took a sharp, deep breath.

“I won't fucking support anyone on your behalf,” he growled loudly.
– You will support her on your own behalf. You understand?
– Al…
- Understand me?!
“Mh-m,” I sobbed.
I felt his hand on my cheek. This time he didn't pinch me

and he stroked me lightly.
– It's getting close, girl, you must be brave, right?
“Mh-m,” I confirmed even more tearfully.
At first I thought it was just my tears soaking my face, but when...
I glanced weakly at my brother and found that his tears were falling on me too.
My vision was darkening.
“You have to stay with me,” he said through his teeth.
– Don't pinch…
– You're staying with me.
The telephone rang.
I was blinking, and my eyelids suddenly became terribly sticky. I couldn't control it. I
couldn't even feel Dylan's touch anymore. Barely
I heard what he said too.

– I'm almost there!
“Everyone is waiting for you,” Vincent said, and his voice, concentrated as
much as possible, rang out clearly this time because Dylan put it on the
loudspeaker. – Stop at the ambulance entrance.
– What the fuck is an ambulance entrance?! How do I know where the
ambulance entrance is?! – Dylan shouted. – Vincent, she… Hailie, wake up
now!
I cried because he wouldn't let me sleep. My cheek burned. Tightly.
Why doesn't he let me sleep, why does he bother me so much? I couldn't do it anymore. I
was drifting off and couldn't stay alive. It cost me too much. I couldn't understand anything
anymore.
My last thought was that at least Dylan was going to die

saved me, and I smiled to myself sleepily.
Then suddenly my body jerked and there was a screech of tires as the car braked
sharply.
79
DAISIES
I could see lights behind my eyelids, even though it was night and I had
closed eyes. It stopped hurting me. I barely even felt that I was being
changed hands or that I was being placed on something hard.
I felt like I was sitting underwater. I knew there was chaos around, but I
was strangely distant from it. I heard voices as if from a distance - people
were shouting something to each other.
Someone shouted that more units of blood were needed.
Dylan screamed to save her.
My life.
When I unexpectedly had time to contemplate them here, in this void
in which I was hanging, I realized how many things I had not told. I can't
mention every little detail here, which is a pity, because in the end, such
seemingly insignificant moments often turn out to be the most important.
Because did I tell you how Shane and I made our own pizza?
For this purpose, we even bought a huge stone stove online, which now only
serves as a garden decoration. By the way, I discovered that Shane had a knack
for cooking, and I thought that he could be a pretty decent cook, if only he weren't
so lazy.
So how did Will drag me out for one of his famous morning runs in the nearby
forest? After this training I thought I would spit my lungs out.
What about Tony teaching me how to shoot a bow? Yes, the Monets, in
addition to guns, had various other types of weapons hidden in their residence.
I used to be bored, and I guess Tony was too, because he took pity on me and
said he would only teach me how to use a bow if I did everything he told me, so I
had to run around like a nerdy little sister and endure him all the shots.
Dylan once promised to take me to the cinema, then chose a film that was
totally not to my taste (something about robots in space) and, consumed by guilt,
he took me to the cinema again the next day, this time for a melodrama.
He fell asleep on it, but it didn't matter because at least he didn't eat my popcorn.
With Vince, for example, I could recall a very nice afternoon when the weather
was nice and my brother spent his lunch break with me. After eating, I made him
black coffee and tea with jasmine, and we sat down on the terrace deckchairs. I
remember making him laugh so much that it was the first time I saw him spill
something.
Then he had to go change his shirt.
I had so many great moments with the boys and there was so much more we
could have done. There's so much ahead of us. I wanted to study, travel, eat
good food and laugh until I dropped. I wanted to get drunk, dance at the bar,
sleep on the beach. I wanted to get behind the wheel of the gold Porsche again.
Just once, I'm begging you.
It wasn't fair that instead I was fighting for my life on the operating table while
the boys suffered in agony in the waiting room.
In his desperation, Vincent reportedly threatened doctors. Dylan was

offering tens, if not hundreds of millions of dollars to anyone who had access
to the block to save me, as if the hospital staff weren't already doing
everything in their power to save this seventeen-year-old girl with her whole
life ahead of her.
Tony smoked so many cigarettes that he finally vomited somewhere
outside the hospital. Shane sat on the floor against the wall in the waiting
room, his legs bent and his forehead resting on his knees. He hid his face
because there were probably tears running down it and he didn't want
others to see them. Will paced the hall stiff as a string, never relaxing for a
moment. During my surgery, he covered more kilometers than many pilgrims.
He told me that he stopped only when the surgeon came out to see them
and confirmed that the operation was successful.
I survived.
Will's knees buckled. Vince, white in the face, stared at the doctor so
intensely that he began to stutter and looked like he wanted to run back to
the operating room. Shane just straightened his legs on the floor and tilted
his head back, hitting the back of it against the wall. He closed his eyes.
Dylan almost rammed a petite nurse to get to the room they were
transporting me to, and Tony tried to follow him, but he felt so dizzy that he
slumped into his chair.
The first time I opened my eyes, I felt like I was underwater. I could barely
lift them, so my visibility was limited. Moreover, I was blinded by the daylight.
I then noticed Shane, sitting wedged on the wide window sill near my bed.
He leaned his laptop against his thighs, stared at its screen, and put large
headphones on his head.
I didn't have the strength to move my neck yet, so I only moved my eyes.
I glanced over and saw Dylan sitting in the chair next to me.
He didn't see that I woke up either, because he was sleeping with his mouth
open and his head tilted back, resting it on his bent, muscular arm.
arm. The other one he stretched out to reach my hand on the quilt.
He lightly tightened his fingers on her.
Gazing at them, I fell asleep again.
When I opened my eyes for the second time, it was dark and it took me a while
before I could make out shapes. I saw that Dylan's hand, which had been resting
on mine, was now replaced by another one - one with a massive signet ring on
the finger.
I closed my eyes.
Third time lucky.

When I opened my eyes again, I felt stronger. A little bit.
This time, my small hand, in which, as I had just noticed, I had a cannula
inserted, was covered by Will's hand. I'd recognize his well-groomed nails
anywhere. Of all the boys, he cared most about using moisturizing cream regularly.
More and more stimuli were reaching me. There was something clicking in the
distance and thanks to the sound I located Shane, who was sitting on the
windowsill again, also with a computer on his lap and headphones on, this time
eating a candy bar. He was already finishing it and the paper was rustling terribly.
I also felt a mild, earthy scent, so fresh and slightly crisp.
I quickly found its source - all I had to do was look around the room, which was a
small, single-person room. It turned out that someone had placed bouquets of
daisies in every possible place. They were everywhere - on the floor, on the
tables and on the windowsill (Shane took the vases off the windowsill and put
them on the ground to make room for himself to sit).
Such a large number of these lovely flowers packed into this small room
fascinated me - the daisies were beautiful, with tiny,
oblong white petals and a yellowish center. At first I even thought that maybe I
had died.
I imagined that my sky could be covered with a hundred snowflakes.
– Hailie.
Vincent stood on the threshold of the room and looked at me with great
tension on his face. He closed the door behind him, not breaking our eye
contact.
I have had the opportunity to see Vincent tired several times in my life.
He often worked a lot, and there had been situations in the past that kept him
awake at night, like Tony's accident and my kidnapping. One of my many
hijinks, that is.
Vincent, who was now approaching my bed, however, embodied a different
level of exhaustion. He didn't lose his perfection, but he neglected it somewhere,
because his hair was combed back - quite messy for him - and his skin had an
unhealthy, pale shade. It also seemed to me that wrinkles were beginning to
form around his eyes, which were constantly squinted from effort and stress,
wrinkles that should not exist on the face of a man who was only thirty years
old.
However, my oldest brother made up for it with his classic outfit of a white
shirt and dark suit pants, never letting himself down even in the hospital.
When he said my name, it immediately caught Will's attention. As it turned out, he was
reading a book, which he immediately put aside when he saw that my eyes were open. He
straightened up and squeezed my hand lightly, as if to give me a push of support. Instead,
I became painfully aware that our fingers had touched, and an inexplicable, strong current
coursed through my body, forcing me to pull my hand away.
I was scared of something.

Then Shane lifted his head, and when he saw that I was awake, his laptop
almost slid to the floor. He caught it at the last moment, and at the same time
carelessly pulled the headphones out of his ears.
“Hey, little one,” Will whispered excitedly.
“Go get the nurse and the boys,” Vincent said quietly to Shane, who
slipped behind him without a word and ran out into the corridor, looking back
at me with fear in his eyes.
– Look at me, can you hear me? – Will said and gave me a soft smile
when our eyes met. I saw fear and worry in his look.
I had the impression that my hand was still throbbing, and certainly not
from the drip, but from the touch of my favorite brother. I pressed it tighter to
my chest, afraid, because along with this pulsation other sensations, not
necessarily pleasant ones, were awakening. Gradually I discovered that I
was in a lot of pain. There was an unpleasant feeling in my stomach, and at
first I thought it was just a momentary discomfort, but the feeling mercilessly
grew stronger.
I swallowed and cried.
“Hey, shh, take it easy, Hailie,” Will said quickly, terrified that I was about
to make even more trouble for myself.
“You're in the hospital,” Vincent added in his calm voice. – You had
surgery and it was successful. You just woke up. We're all here with you.
“It hurts,” I sobbed, staring at him with teary eyes.

He clenched his jaw, but gave no other sign that he was concerned.
– It has a right to hurt. You got stitches, but the surgery was a success.
Look at me, Hailie. Do you hear? Nothing bad is happening to you, it hurts
because the wound is healing. The nurse will be here soon and will increase
your dose of painkillers, okay?
No, not good. With every second I was more and more conscious and
aware of this shooting pain. I clenched my hands into fists - one on my T-
shirt and the other on the sheets.
“It hurts a lot,” I just squealed. My breathing was so shallow that I could
barely speak. And when I wanted to calm down and take a deep breath, I
couldn't. I physically couldn't - I was in too much pain.
Desperate, Will looked at the door as if trying to telepathically call for a nurse,
and he must have succeeded, because suddenly the door opened and a woman in
a hospital uniform walked in. Right behind her was a flustered Dylan and the twins.
“We need to give her something for the pain right now,” Will said immediately,
in a commanding tone.
– Is she okay? – Dylan asked his older brothers loudly, and then
he said to the nurse as urgently as Will, "Examine her."
The woman pursed her lips, clearly dissatisfied with the way she was treated
here, but didn't answer, just focused on her tasks. She seemed to understand that
my brothers were now too concerned to follow the rules of good manners. She
smiled at me gently and asked how I was feeling in a soothing voice. Even if I
wanted to answer her as calmly, I couldn't; I could only cry because it hurt so much.
At some point, a doctor joined us and took over from the nurse. Now my brothers
started bombarding her with demands to ease my suffering.
I lay there surrounded by them all, overwhelmed by the pain and confusion in
the room. Somewhere in the background, I caught a glimpse of Tony's face and his
large eyes, framed by wet eyelashes. Could it be that they were wet with tears?
I didn't have the strength to think because it hurt too much. At one point I
squeezed my eyes shut and buried my damp cheek in the pillow, regretting that I
had woken up.
Or that I wasn't dead.
It took a while, but I finally calmed down a bit and regained awareness of what was
happening around me. The doctor left, promising to return soon. The nurse was
still fumbling with my drip.
The wound on my stomach was dragging, causing me great discomfort, but that's it
it didn't hurt much. However, when the physical suffering decreased slightly, bad
memories and difficult emotions resurfaced.
I took a shaky breath.
– Yes, Hailie? Will immediately leaned over me. - You want something
to say? Do you need something?
“The painkillers should be working by now,” the nurse interjected, pausing for a
moment. She glanced at me, worried that something had gone wrong and her
brothers would blame her.
Before I could speak, I coughed because my throat was as dry as after partying
with Maya in Saint-Tropez. It felt like it was in some other life.
-Sonny? – I croaked. I looked at Will, and when he looked down, I looked at

Vincent, and my lip quivered as I repeated, "Sonny?"
“Sonny's dead,” Vince said, bravely holding my pained gaze.
I cried even more. Tears flowed everywhere - down my face, neck, and down
my throat, and they seemed to moisten them, so they should have brought me relief,
but all I could do was choke on them.
This time my brothers didn't know how to calm me down. Will tried to pet me, but
I turned my face away from his hand, so he obediently withdrew it. Each of them
looked like they were searching for words to ease my pain, but at that moment it
was simply impossible.
Sonny was dead, and there was nothing that would make coming to terms with
his death any easier.
– Funeral? I muttered weakly.
The thought of burying Sonny, who was so dear to me, made me feel sick.
The boys looked at each other.

“The funeral was a few days ago,” Vince finally said, whose thing about him was
that he was best at giving simple, consensual messages.
with facts of information. He could use his emotionless voice for this.
I felt a painful twinge in my heart.
- But how? – I whispered, then started shaking my head. – No, no, like a
few days ago?
– After the surgery, you were put into a medically induced coma to help you recover faster.
You slept for several days. At this time, a ceremony took place.
“We know you're sorry you couldn't be there…” he added hastily

Will, seeing the look on my face.
I started sobbing and my five brothers stood over me in mine
hospital room, each of them equally helpless.
“Hey, that's why we were all there,” Shane said. He was usually cheerful
or at least laid back, and now he was standing with his hands in the pockets
of his red sweatshirt and not knowing what to do with himself. – Except for
Will, I mean, Will stayed with you. So we all went to say goodbye to him. On
your behalf too.
I shook my head as tears streamed down my cheeks.
“We'll take you to the cemetery as soon as you regain your strength,” Will promised.
– He… – I started with a breaking voice – is dead…
I started breathing faster and faster, and I felt a tingling sensation near
the wound. I couldn't stop feeling the death of my bodyguard.
The more I realized that the dead Sonny, his blank stare, the blood staining
my lilac dress, and the snow were not just figments of my imagination but
real events, the harder it was for me to cope.
The brothers were saying something to me, at one point one over the
other, I think even Vincent raised his voice, but I couldn't hear anything.
Then the nurse came back and I drifted off again.
The next time I woke up from my sleep, I was greeted by three of my brothers at my bedside.
Shane was sitting on his favorite windowsill, but this time without the computer and not
across it, but with his legs down and leaning against the window. He had a bag of chips in
his hand, which he ate while he was deep in conversation with Dylan, who was standing
opposite my bed, and Will, who was watching in the armchair next to me. It was Shane who
was the first to realize I was awake this time. His mouth was full, but his eyes widened and
he waved a bag of chips as if he wanted to tell the world that I was awake.
Will and Dylan read this message perfectly and I didn't have time to blink.
and they rushed towards me on both sides.
“Hi, little one,” Will said quietly, watching me carefully. - It hurts you? To be fair, I had to
admit that
this time the wound on my stomach was only a little noticeable, and somehow it was
easier for me to control my crying. My eyes still watered at the thought of Sonny, but this
time I woke up feeling numb enough that I managed not to cry.
So I just shrugged and moaned quietly. I haven't felt so weak in a long time. I felt like my
body was completely useless and I had thoughts that it would be best to leave it.
“Eh,” Dylan growled at Shane, who rustled the package extremely loudly. – Get out of
here with those crisps.
- What? – Shane was surprised.
– She can't eat yet, and she's probably hungry, so maybe you wouldn't bother her?
Excursion.
“Dylan's right,” Will admitted, looking back expectantly at Shane, who understood what
they meant and didn't argue anymore, but instead of leaving, he simply crumpled the
package and threw it into the trash.
After this exchange, I realized that I was actually starving.
Thanks, Dylan.
There was an unpleasant feeling in my stomach and the feeling of dryness in my mouth
was becoming unbearable. I dreamed of a cold Coke. Strongly carbonated,
in a frosted box. And then about some heavy, carbohydrate-rich dinner. For
example, a big bowl of Italian pasta.
With tomato sauce and maybe tuna.
I moved uncomfortably.
When I expressed my needs in a thin voice, I did not expect that my
brothers would refuse me. I saw from them that they were ready to do
absolutely anything to help me, but, well, their options were very limited.
I was only allowed a few sips of water. I still had a drip connected to it,
and from what Will explained to me, I could only dream of eating for now,
because the knife had damaged my intestine, which now needed time to
regenerate. For this reason, I was put on a strict diet, which was to be
expanded very slowly and carefully.
There were many other things waiting for me as well. In addition to frequent tests and
observations, endless dressing changes, taking medications and urgent check-ups, I was
arranged for a therapist. Then I realized why I cringed every time one of the boys stood too
close, or why now that I was awake, I didn't let them hold my hand, even though I had
always been the most affectionate person in the world.
This time I had a different therapist than the one I went to before.
It's sad that even though I was only seventeen, I already had such extensive
experience with therapy. At first, I didn't feel like talking to anyone, I felt
terrible, both physically and mentally, but when Vincent found out from Dylan
what had happened, he decided to provide me with a psychotherapist, even
before the doctors suggested it.
What's more, Vince also forced Dylan to reach out for such support. After
all, he experienced a trauma no less than mine, I dare say. I know Dylan
gave in to Vincent, but that didn't happen until I woke up. He previously
claimed that he was unable to concentrate on, quote, some stupid
conversations.
Well, this "chat" was definitely going to come in handy for him. I once
witnessed him taking a nap in the armchair next to my bed and in a certain place
At that moment he jumped up, opening his eyes violently. I could clearly see
that they were damp, although he tried to hide it from me by rubbing his eyelids
and swearing at the loud wind outside the window.
There was also a strange distance between us. Or maybe tension?
Of course, Dylan stayed with me almost all the time anyway, willingly, and I
really wanted him to be with me; our presence next to each other was a natural
need, like drinking water.
I often found myself staring at him, and then sometimes I caught him looking
at me, as if deep in thought.
It seemed to me that we were both slowly realizing something. Because even
though I had known for a long time that I cared about my brothers and that I
was not indifferent to them either, we really got used to each other so much that
our bond became incredibly strong.
Downright terrifying.
I put the book aside. Will brought me some of them here in the hope that
reading, which I love, will help me get back to my old self even a little. However,
I couldn't concentrate on reading. A dark fog filled my head, preventing me from
thinking about anything other than Sonny's death and all the terrible things that
had happened to me.
Attempted rape, stabbing me in the stomach by that woman...
And also the things I found out after waking up, like the fact that I spent
Christmas this year in a coma (and therefore my brothers also spent it in the
hospital), and that several people were injured at Grace and Vincent's
engagement party, including two seriously. Sonny and several other outside
security guards were killed. People who had children, families, dreams and
plans. I also shed many tears for them. I couldn't survive this tragedy and bear
the fact that things were so bad.
I couldn't even be happy that the official engagement hadn't happened yet.
So since I couldn't read, I decided to take a nap for lack of better options, but first
I glanced at Dylan sitting next to me. He was the only one here with me at the moment.
Since I was in the hospital, I have never been alone in this room without one of my
brothers. I liked knowing they were all around.
– Dylan?
-Hmm? - He looked up from the phone. He had been writing something in it for a
long time, probably to Martina. Lately, he's been neglecting it a bit because of me, as
well as his studies. He brought his laptop with him to the hospital to write some final
paper, but he didn't even look at it. He claimed he didn't "give a shit", but I knew it was
hard for him to concentrate too.
-Where's Will?
– He drove home for a moment, as he said.

– He's been gone for a long time.
– Briefly, an hour. –…
and where are Tony and Shane?
Dylan sighed wearily. I couldn't blame him because I kept asking about my absent
brothers. All it took was for someone to be away from my bed for more than a dozen
or so minutes and I was already looking nervously towards the corridor.
– They went to get food.

– A…
I didn't ask about Vince because the door to the room opened, something rattled,
and there were heavy footsteps.
My heart stopped in my chest for a moment.
The handcuffs on our father's wrists rattled.
Cam was dressed in his red prison outfit with a thick black leather jacket over a
black teddy bear. On his feet were massive, slightly muddy shoes. His entire posture
was impressive. His hair was damp; I guessed it was because it was snowing quite
heavily outside the window.
Even though I haven't seen him for a long time, he hasn't changed much. He seems
to have developed a tiny, long scar in the corner of his left eye. His beard was still large,
his face was lined with wrinkles, and his hair was only slightly trimmed. If you painted his
eyes with black eyeliner and instead of handcuffs, put the straps on his wrists that he
wore when he spent time on paradise islands, he could play a pirate in a movie.
When I saw him, I wanted to jump out from under the covers and fall into his arms,
but the dull pain of the wound on my stomach kept me from such ideas. Instead, I moved
and stared open-mouthed at him as he approached me.
My face fell when two armed policemen with focused, official faces followed my dad
into the room. Luckily, he was right behind them too
Vincent.
Cam stopped by my bed and smiled gently at me, then looked at Dylan with the same
smile. He raised his arms as if to spread them and touch me with one hand and his son
with the other, but the handcuffs on his wrists prevented him from doing so. His bruised
knuckles didn't escape my notice.
“Hey, you,” he growled at one of the policemen, turning to him with impatience. Or
maybe it was my imagination, or his voice became hoarse. – Take this iron off my hands.
The officers raised their eyebrows.

– We don't have permission to...
“But I'm just visiting my daughter in the hospital,” Cam interrupted him and jerked his
head at me, “and with this crap on my hands, I can't even hold her properly.”
The guards glanced at me and I made the saddest face I could muster. Considering
all the wrongs that had happened to me lately, this came easily to me.
– Come on, Tom. You know I won't do any shit. Not in front of your kids. Cam raised
an eyebrow, and the officer he was addressing sighed and exchanged a look with his
partner.
“You've got to behave, Cam,” he said, reaching for the key from his waist and
then taking it to my father. – One false move and things will get ugly.
– Mhm, I'll be a fucking angel. – My father winked at me while he was being

unchained.
I tried to smile gently in response, even though the sight of my dad in prison
clothes, handcuffed and guarded by guards made me very sad.
Cam rubbed his wrists as soon as the officer moved away from him, but before
he turned to me, he made his way to the chair where Dylan was sitting. My brother
was no longer leaning lazily in it, his back was straight and he was closely following
his father's movements. With a gesture of his hand eager to obey, he ordered him to
stand up. Cam was probably the only person Dylan didn't dare argue with. So he
stood up, and as they stood facing each other, I could see that even though Dylan
was taller and broader in the shoulders, Cam had authority over him.
The father looked at his son. He placed one hand on his shoulder and the other
on his cheek. He tried to look into his eyes, but Dylan seemed to look away from him
for a moment. It wasn't until my father patted him imperiously on the cheek that my
mean brother gave up.
“You did a great job, kid,” Cam said in a low voice. – I'm proud of you, you hear?
Damn proud.
Dylan tried to turn his head to the side again - not only so as not to look into his
father's eyes, but also mine and Vincent's, who was leaning against the wall at the
entrance, watching over us like the police did.
“Don't be ashamed of your tears,” Cam admonished him, still in the same hoarse
and sharp voice. – They won't take away your manhood. Nothing can take her away
from you after what happened. "He leaned in so that their faces were almost touching,
and I could barely hear what he was saying. – You saved my daughter.
Cam shook his head and then used his fingers to wipe something off Dylan's
cheek, probably a tear, before kissing him there and hugging him, patting him on the
shoulder.
I almost burst into tears when I saw this scene between them.
I was secretly glad that my father showed Dylan affection and that he
appreciated him. He deserved it so much...
“And you…” This time he turned to me. – You saved my son.
Mhm, yes, I heard how fiercely you fought for each other. Cam shook his
head with satisfaction in his eyes and glanced at the officers standing in
silence. – These are my kids. – He noisily moved a stool from under my
hospital bed and immediately sat down on it. “You saved my sons,” he
corrected himself. – And myself. Because if we lost you, my princess,
none of us would be able to cope.
Staring at him, I tried to swallow.
My father reached out his hand and I was afraid that he would touch
me and that I would again feel that strange impulse that would push me
away from his closeness, which I really needed very much... But he placed
his hand, palm side up, on the duvet, at a reasonable distance from mine. .
– I'm sorry, my Hailie, for making you pay for your sins. You don't deserve so much suffering.
- Cam's voice became darker, and he glanced at the place where the blanket covered my
stitched and bandaged wound. – My little princess stabbed…
I remained silent, but I was a little afraid of his darker side, which was
starting to make itself felt. I was afraid he would lose control. I didn't want
to watch the police force him in handcuffs and take him away. Even though
it would be just another trauma to add to my collection, I had no desire to
experience it.
My little finger twitched first, but I still hesitated, so it took me a moment
to slowly raise my hand and carefully place it on my father's waiting hand.
From the moment I woke up from the coma, I refused to be touched.

Especially men. Fortunately, only women took care of me: nurses, a
doctor, a therapist. My brothers respected my new boundaries and didn't
approach me, although I could often see confusion in their eyes because
this was not what I was used to seeing them do. Before, I was clingy,
clinging to them, craving body contact.
Now, to reassure my father, I decided to make a friendly gesture despite the fear
that I would have to withdraw my hand as soon as possible. However, this did not happen.
His powerful hand closed lightly over mine, and I felt nothing but pleasant warmth.
I trusted my brothers, but my relationship with my father was something special.

Now Dad leaned down and brushed his lips against my fingers, tickling me
with his beard.
I smiled.
“You're so brave,” he said. I saw concern in his dark irises that masked the
anger. When those eyes weren't looking at me, I'm sure she was more expressive.
Tears welled up in my eyes. It had been happening so often lately that I was actually
used to it and almost didn't notice it.
– I'm stupid because I'm the reason Sonny is dead.

It was the first time I said it out loud. I didn't have the courage to say these
words in front of the boys, but again - a father is different.
I felt completely safe with him, as if he was able to take away everything bad
from me.
Cam closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.
“It's true,” I sobbed, and Dylan, who had been about to sit back in the chair a
moment ago, now jerked his head up and took a step forward, clenching his fists.
– No, because if I hadn't flown into this forest first, then...

– No, if I had listened to Sonny…
“Silence,” his father growled sharply, opening his eyes. – Tell us, why did you
fly into the forest?
Dylan ran a hand through his hair in a quick, nervous motion.
– Well, because I'm an idiot.
– Answer normally.
My brother took a breath and finally, without looking at me, casually waved his
hand at me.
– I don't know, because I thought they took her there.

My father looked at me.
– And why did you run to the forest?
I held his gaze for a moment, biting my lower lip, and then I glanced briefly at
Vincent, who was still leaning against the wall, listening intently to us, looking at me
furtively.
I swallowed.
– Hailie, why did you run into the forest? – the father repeated calmly.
“Because I saw Dylan run there,” I replied quietly.
Spreading his arms, he nodded with a serious expression.
– And that's it.
We all fell silent for a moment. Dylan stared at the window.
“But,” I started after a moment, “but dad, Sonny lost his life.”
With one hand he grabbed my hand again, this time more boldly, seeing
that I let him do it, and stroked my hair with the other.
“Sonny's death is a huge blow to all of us,” he said with appropriate seriousness
and sadness. – I knew him as a little shit and he was always hanging around
somewhere over the years. He gained our trust. And that's not just anything, because
I trust only a handful of people. “Cam touched my cheek with the back of his hand. –
We trusted him with your safety.
He was a good boy, a very good bodyguard…
“He was the best,” I stammered through tears.
– Yes, my Hailie, and we will always remember him as such… Sonny was also not
stupid. He knew his job and the risks it involved.
– But he couldn't have predicted that he would die and… leave behind his daughter.
“No, he couldn't,” Cam sighed. – We will take care of his family.

“I promised him I would support Lea,” I continued, my voice breaking.
– You did a very good job, it was definitely a relief for him. We will help you keep
your word.
- How? Can we give her, I don't know, money? Maybe open an account for
her?
– Why don't we send the money to her mom, okay? As much as you want.
And we will set up a trust fund directly for the child, hmm? We will also send
the girl to a good kindergarten, and then we will pay her fees in the best schools
throughout her education, what do you say?
I nodded excitedly.
– Yes, let's do that, please.
– Vincent will take care of it, right? – The father looked at his eldest
his son, who was still leaning against the wall, as still as a statue, nodded.
It was a speck of light in the black tar of grief I was wading through.
I was afraid that my promise to Sonny would turn out to be problematic for
some reason. Without the help of my family, I wouldn't be able to fulfill it,
certainly not now. That's why I was relieved that I was supposed to receive
support from them and, at least in this area, I didn't have to worry about him.
“My little princess,” my father repeated, looking at me with such tenderness
that I had to look down. – I have a request to ask you. Can you look at me,
Hailie? I would like to ask you to focus fully on your health in the near future.
Do you think you can do it? I would like you to take care of yourself, listen to
doctors and work with a therapist. You can do it?
I looked down again.

“I'm doing my best,” I muttered.
– I know, my sweet Hailie, I know. “His beard tickled me again as he kissed
my hand again. – I'm not rushing you in any way. By all means, do everything
at your own pace, without any pressure. All I care about is that you make
yourself a priority. You are so empathetic, you have such a good heart... But
sometimes it's worth being a little selfish, and I'm asking you to be a little more
selfish, especially now, when you really need to put your own good ahead of
other people's. “He touched my temple with the tip of his index finger. – Your
body and your spirit need your attention, you know that, right?
I nodded shyly.
– Dad? – I asked quietly, making sure not to accidentally glance at anyone
Dylan, much less Vincent.
– So?
– So you know everything… that… happened there? – I whispered.
“I don't know if it's everything, but I certainly know a lot,” he replied, and
his eyes darkened.
“Do you know if I…” My voice caught in my throat.
– Yes, princess? – Father's eyes returned to their original state
and they looked at me kindly.
– Is this… man that I… Is he…
I didn't finish it, but I believed there was no need. Cam kept his eyes on me for a moment,
and I waited for his answer, returning his gaze through wet eyelashes. Then he answered
me without blinking an eye: - He's dead. “And when my chin started shaking, he added,
“Clarissa killed him.”
I remained silent, feeling my stomach tighten painfully with stress. This

the terrible feeling was intensified by the fact that I had a wound on my stomach.
“I know you defended yourself with a knife,” the father continued. – And I think you are
amazing, my princess. You are so brave and strong. I'm proud of you too for being able to fight
so hard. You are a Monet like nothing else.
This time his words did not soothe me. The thought kept running through
my mind that my attacker, whom I had stabbed and left dying on the floor,
was dead.
– Again, who killed him? – I asked blankly.
“Clarissa,” my father replied through gritted teeth. It was obvious that just
saying the name made him furious. – The woman who started all this shit.
“She's mentally ill,” Vincent interjected, speaking for the first time. – She
was diagnosed with untreated trauma over the years
caused serious mental disorders.

“That's right, he has a sieve instead of a psyche,” Cam confirmed. – I remember
that she was already unstable as a teenager, Lissa's entire family was pathological.
- Then he raised his eyes to the ceiling, put his index and middle finger to his lips and
raised them up, muttering under his breath: - Sorry, sunshine.
“So it wasn't me who…” I continued. Certain words stuck in my throat and couldn't
get through.
– You didn't kill him, Hailie.
I started nodding, looking down at the duvet. I didn't kill him. It wasn't me who
killed him.
I just stabbed him. Stabbing is not a death sentence. I was stabbed myself, too,
and here I am, I'm alive.
“It's a pity he's dead,” Dylan said, his voice turning dark and unpleasant. –
Because I'd love to rip off his dick and then have him eat it...
“Dylan, motherfucker, shut up,” his father growled.

- No, because I can't bear it, that these cattle got such an easy death, it's... - Dylan
was so feverish and made such sudden movements that he finally waved his hand
and hit one of the bouquets that stood on the table next to him. The vase fell and
broke with a noise, and crystal shards scattered on the floor and water spilled.
Dylan didn't even notice. Nobody returned it.

– I agree with you, son, but since he's dead, let's move on and not think about
what we would do if.
– I'm just going to think about it, because I would give my life to take him...
His father stood up and grabbed Dylan by the front of his shirt and yanked him.
– Control yourself.
– Oh, I'm in control of myself now, I'm in complete control, and that's it
I say, it is one hundred percent thought out, for...
“Dylan,” his father hissed, a few tones quieter this time, but also more
sharply. He was now standing right in front of him, face to face, his fist
clenched in his shirt, and then he added in a barely audible whisper, "I know."
Okay? I know and I understand you. I'd love to skin him too, really. But I won't
do it because he's already dead. You can't help it either. So let's focus on
what we can do. For example, we can support your sister. She needs our
attention, not this dead bastard. Don't you think so?
Dylan started to calm down a little. He was still buzzing, but he wasn't as
feverish anymore. He glanced at me and, seeing that I was looking sadly at
the daisies that, because of his fault, were wasting away on the floor, without
water, covered with glass shards, he started and bent down to pick them up.
Cam watched Dylan picking flowers for a moment, then turned back to me.
He also cast a long glance at Vincent along the way.
– Is there anything else you want to ask? – His voice was gentle again
when he addressed me. He patted my head again. I liked it when he was so
gentle with me.
– How did it happen that she killed… him? – I asked quietly,
constantly tormented by an unpleasant feeling.
Cam raised his fist and spun it around.
“She twisted the knife, took it out of his wound, and that seemed to be enough.
I grimaced and licked my lips excitedly.
– But I was the one to go first… Well, isn't it me then… It's not my fault?
Cam leaned over me and looked into my eyes so intently that a vertical
line appeared between his eyebrows.
– Hailie, I'm going to say something now and I don't want to have to repeat
myself, so please, my daughter, try to remember it well. Cam paused briefly.
– None of what happened is your fault. Never blame yourself for things that
are beyond your control. Don't blame yourself for the whirlwind of events
someone has thrown you into. Is this clear and understandable?
I nodded, trying to hold back the tears.
– Great, princess. It's very important to be understanding with yourself. - Father

raised his head and looked first at Dylan, then at Vincent. – And the same applies
to you, understand? Take care of your psyche. You see in Clarissa's example
what happens when she is neglected. Dylan, understood?
“Yeah,” my mean brother muttered.

– Vincent?
My oldest brother, on the other hand, just nodded.

- All right. Remember, in our family there is no place for blame, pointing fingers
and lamenting "what if". If you are looking for an answer to this type of question,
come to me and I will answer it for you. It would be shit. If your name is Monet,
when you have a problem, you look for a solution, and you don't cry like some
fucking crumb over spilled milk and wonder if you did that and it would turn out
like crap. Sure or not?
I involuntarily snorted quietly, and Dylan smiled slightly.

– Sure or not, I wonder? – growled the father.
“Sure,” Dylan and I muttered at the same time.
- I hope so.
– And… what will happen to Clarissa? – I asked after a moment of silence.
Dad sighed deeply.

– What can I do to charm you, my Hailie... I don't predict a bright future for her.
– But she's your aunt, right? – I glanced at Dylan, feeling an unpleasant shiver.
He looked at me like I was an alien.

– Come on, what kind of fucking aunt are you? No aunt, I don't care about that as a
woman.
– It's not that she lost her mind and, as I know, sent a threatening letter, Hailie,
it's just that she actively tried to hurt you, more than once. Even if her actions were
caused by illness, we can't forgive her after all this. Even though she's my dead
wife's sister. And even if we
If we decided to let her go, if that didn't happen, the Organization would probably sentence
her to death.
Vince raised his eyebrows.
– Organization? – I picked up on it uncertainly.

“It's time to reveal the secret,” the father decided, looking significantly at his eldest son.
- Not now, because it's not the right place... - he glanced briefly at the policemen, whose
presence I had already forgotten - - but when you get home, Vincent, I will want you to
outline to Hailie what our activities involve. She's been through enough to know some
answers. Not all of them, but the basic ones.
Vince clenched his jaw, but did not oppose his father's wishes.
“So… so this Org…” I started, but Cam touched my shoulder and shook his head.
- Later. Hold on a little longer, princess. Can you do this for me?
I nodded reluctantly.
This time he placed a kiss on my forehead.
Soon Shane and Tony returned, and soon after them Will entered the room and it
became very crowded. The policemen were huddled against the wall, and their faces
showed that they did not feel very comfortable here. The boys, in their father's presence,
relaxed like never before and for a moment I remembered one of our holidays together.
Despite my fears and intrusive thoughts about Sonny's death, even I managed to smile a
few times.
I became moody when the policemen became more and more aggressive in demanding
that the visit be ended. The father postponed this moment as long as he could, but at some
point one of the officers approached him with handcuffs in his hand and it was no longer
possible to negotiate.
“It's good that you managed to come by,” I whispered to him once again
he kissed my hand and stroked my forehead, this time as a farewell.
– See, it's good to have connections that can give you more than just an extra steak in
the prison cafeteria. – He winked
me. – It was great to see your beautiful face, my princess.

Take care, stay healthy and until next time.
80
BEAUTIFUL BRAID
Uncle Monty's head popped into the room.
When he saw us, his eyes lit up and the door opened wider.
– Ha! I found! - he called, and after a while she was standing next to him,
craning her neck, Maya.
– Hailie! – she chirped.
Spring came with it, even though we had a harsh winter.
I didn't feel it much, locked in the hospital, but I saw it raging outside the window, and
the boys complained about the piercing cold every time they came from outside.
Before Maya sat down at my side, she shrugged off her elegant coat and thrust it
into Monty's hands without even realizing it. He took it from her, but first put aside
another huge bouquet of daisies.
– How are you feeling, beautiful? – Maya asked.
I shrugged the question off, but managed to smile.
Maya simply created a wonderfully positive atmosphere wherever she went.
– How wonderful, how many flowers there are! – she enthused.

“Well, you can barely breathe,” Uncle Monty muttered.

– What are you talking about, it smells great, so fresh.
– It smells like earth.
– Whose idea is this? With those daisies? I think it's brilliant.
“I bet Willa,” Monty muttered, taking one of the delicate petals between his fingers.
– I think it's Tony.

– Tony? - I was surprised.
“Tony has good taste,” Maya said expertly, nodding.
– I think it was the two of them who actually took care of the flowers – he admitted
Shane, scratching the back of his neck as if he hadn't thought about it before.
He was charmingly ignorant about such matters.
- I thought so. It must be admitted that when necessary, they can do it
aesthetically. Maya looked around again with a pleasant smile, then moved closer
to me. – But tell me, Hailie, how are you feeling? Is it okay now? When I heard what
happened, I fainted, Monty was catching me, I felt so sick.
- Nothing happend? – I asked worriedly.

– We're not talking about me, Hailie, darling. – She waved her hand dismissively.
So we talked about me. I wasn't going to go into unpleasant details, but Maya
knew quite a lot anyway. Uncle Monty grimaced a few times, and Maya shook her
head in horror. However, I was reluctant to recall unpleasant memories, so no one
pressed me too hard, and soon we moved into casual conversations, in which Uncle
Monty eagerly engaged in, cracking a few of his trademark jokes. The more
successful ones even made me laugh. Shane quickly joined him and it wasn't long
before they were both choking on laughter. Maya rolled her eyes, but smiled at me
when she saw the corner of my mouth twitch slightly.
– Where's Flynn? I asked, looking around as if I was expecting to see a child with
them that I had missed earlier.
“He stayed with the nanny,” Maya replied quickly. – I'm sorry, Hailie, I first
thought about taking him with us, but he's still so little and I didn't want to drag
him around the hospitals, he was just sick, you know... But he drew something
for you, look...
Maya took a note from her caramel-colored leather purse. She handed it to
me, and a smile lit up my face when I saw the child's scribbles.
There were several colorful smears on the card.
“Beautiful,” I commented without a hint of irony, because I seriously thought it
was cute, but Uncle Monty responded with a snort, earning him a scowl from his
wife.
- Show. Shane craned his neck and raised an eyebrow. – Oh, no, cool
even…
– Maya recently bought a similar painting for, how much, baby? Thirty
thousand?
- Twenty-five.
– But… similar to this? – I was surprised, pointing to the card from Flynn.
– I saw a depth in him that was simply Monty, because of his shortness
level of sensitivity, cannot see.
– Honey, it's not my level of sensitivity that's the problem,
and the skill level of the painter.
Maya waved her hand.
– I think it's great and fits perfectly into the guest bathroom.
“I'd love to see him,” I said, genuinely curious.
– But definitely, listen, I already told you that as soon as you heal enough to
get on a plane, you will come to Paris. You'll need a change of scenery. We will
eat croissants all day long, go to theaters and go shopping. What do you think?
I smiled shyly as this vision appeared in my head.

– I've never been to Paris.
– I'll arrange everything with Vince later. You can stay with us as long as you
want. In April we are moving to Saint-Tropez and you are too,
of course, welcome.
– Thanks, Maya.
My aunt started making plans about how she could make my stay in the
French capital more enjoyable, and even though these were only preliminary
plans, I enjoyed listening to her chatter. I felt relaxed with Maja. She wasn't
angry or overly concerned about startling or scaring me. She was just herself.
I wasn't afraid of her touch either, probably because she was a woman.
I was also getting used to the touch of my siblings, but sometimes I was still a
bit tense around them.
Maja and Monty's visit put me in a good mood, one I had missed for a long
time. They showed me that there is real life going on somewhere outside the
walls of this hospital and that it does not revolve around therapy, worried
brothers, the mysterious Organization and the father's prison.
There is still a world out there where you can get on a plane and fly to Paris.
I didn't get my phone back.

Someone took it while I was unconscious, one of my kidnappers, and I still
didn't know where it was. There is a possibility that my brothers managed to get
it back, but no one informed me about it and I didn't ask.
I didn't ask because I was overwhelmed by the thought of getting my hands

on it and having to read messages from my friends in the outside world.
Most of the time I was in such a strange state that I suddenly didn't care about
anything, not even replying to a simple text message. Maybe it wasn't fair, but
from the moment I woke up, my life was in the hospital.
That's why I was surprised when Will came into my room one day,
leading Leo behind him.
I stared at him with my mouth open, a little scared,
like he caught me doing something inappropriate.
– Leave you two alone? – asked my favorite brother, clearly directing the question
to me.
As Leo handed me the flowers, I tried to look happy at the kind gesture. I dipped
my nose into them, hiding the trace of hesitation on my face.
“If you can…” I replied.

Will obediently left the room, and I closed my fingers around the bright paper and
ribbons. – This bouquet
is beautiful – I said, because suddenly there was an embarrassing silence.
“I was hoping to suit your taste,” he replied, looking around
a room full of daisies.
– Are those orchids?
– Mhm.
I found myself staring at the pink buds for too long. It was as if I was forcing my
eyes to look somewhere, and after a while I realized that Leo was perfectly aware
of this. I felt stupid and looked into his eyes.
- How do you feel? – my boyfriend asked. He was standing there next to my bed
and played with his hands.
- I'm better now. Better than at the beginning, I replied.

– And what was it like at the beginning?
I looked up at him, confused by the slight hint of dryness in his voice.
– You mean when I woke up?

“I don't know, at all…” he sighed this time with obvious frustration. – I don't know
anything what's going on. I find out that my girlfriend is in the hospital from school
gossip.
“There was an accident,” I replied in an emotionless voice. – I wasn't able to write.
– I know, but no one spoke to me. It's lucky that I had contact with Will because
of the Ryder case, otherwise I wouldn't have known where you were by now.
“I'm sorry, Leo,” I sighed. – You're right, you should be one

one of the first people to learn about what happened.
- I don't blame you, I don't want it to sound like that... I just... - Leo lowered his
head. – I was worried, you know?
– I know, it wasn't right. The boys could have let you know. The point is that what
has happened is enough for all of us... it has overwhelmed us. Neither I nor my
brothers thought about contact with the outside world.
“I understand, but…” Leo hesitated. – You woke up a long time ago and... you
didn't think about me even once?
“I'm thinking about you,” I assured him quickly, feeling light on my face
blush. – Of course I'm thinking about you. It's just a difficult time.
“It's good that you're recovering,” he said and looked around. - Nicely
that.
“Your flowers fit perfectly, I want them by my bed,” I said, and he smiled slightly.
Something was wrong.
There was a cloud of tension hanging between us that I couldn't dispel with any
topic I could think of. And many of them came to me. I mentally begged him not to
ask about what happened because I didn't feel like sharing the details. Even though
deep down I believed he deserved an explanation. I should want to confide in him.
This is my boyfriend.
I experienced my first time with him. He was the only person I gave this particular
part of me to, the one that a big, scary man had recently tried to brutally and
forcefully take from me.
I didn't want to tell Leo about it so much.
He sensed my reluctance, which I wanted to spare him.
I tried to smile while glancing at his hands every time I thought he would move
them. Well, because then there was a danger that he would want to touch me.
He was my boyfriend, he had the right to touch me. But I'm from some
that's why I was afraid.
The therapist explained to me that this was a common reaction to what was happening to me
happened. I hoped I just needed time.
– How's Winter? – I asked, and only when the words left my mouth did I realize
that I had chosen the stupidest possible topic to fill the silence between us.
Leo looked at me longer than necessary.

– Are you really asking about Winter?
I shrugged.
– Well, average.
- Something happened?
Yes, I know, I didn't like Winter, but I didn't wish her any harm.
– Social services found out about her situation.
I opened my mouth.
- How?
Leo gave me another long look.

– We don't know for sure... But they visited her apartment. Her father was lying
there, passed out drunk, so they started looking for Winter. They asked around a
bit and found it here.
– Oh God, what now? – I covered my mouth with my hand.
– Gina will try to take her under her care.

– Your mom is so good…
Leo shrugged.
– She's sad to see Win suffer. After all, he knows her and likes her... We just
don't know yet whether it will all work out, Gina may have trouble meeting several
requirements.
– How is Winter?
– No worse than you… Hailie, maybe we can talk about…
– Is it holding up somehow?
He let out a sigh of frustration.
– Somehow... She cries a lot, and on top of that she's hurt because her father
waved his hand and said that he didn't care about anything this time and wouldn't be
allowed to go to rehab.
I closed my eyes and sighed sympathetically.
“She really shouldn't have these problems right now,” I said.
– They're definitely not helping her.

– I'm keeping my fingers crossed that – I hesitated – Gina will succeed.
Leo obviously couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.
- Hi! – I exclaimed – Seriously! I know I had different attitudes towards her
in the past, but I don't want her to suffer.
The boy opened his mouth to say something, but the twins burst into the room.
They didn't really care if we needed privacy - they weren't going to let us go into the
corridor.
At least they didn't comment rudely on Leo's presence, although Tony scowled at him.
Leo stood by my bed for a while, but it was difficult for us to talk, even when we
were alone, let alone in the company of my brothers, whose presence made it much
more awkward. Plus Shane brought me lunch. I slowly expanded my diet, and Leo
must have seen me looking at the paper bag, because he finally asked me to
remember to write to him, gave me greetings from Mona, Lavinia, and a few other
people at school, wished me well, and left.
I had the impression that there were unfinished business between us, as if they
had been dug up. We didn't discuss something, we didn't cover enough topics, he
was here too short. It's not his fault, of course, I guess I didn't accept him the way I
should have. I was in the hospital, sure, but I guess I could have been more happy to
see him? Better to show it? Did I let him know that I appreciated him coming to me? I
didn't apologize to him for my silence.
When he left, I didn't even thank him a second time for the flowers.
Maya became my favorite guest.

Apart from the boys, of course, but with them it was different, because I didn't really treat
them as visitors, they were just constantly with me.
I was just listening to my aunt talking with her typical cheerfulness about her
current relationship with her father, who, let me remind you, had an episode when
he kidnapped her along with Flynn on the streets of Paris, which started a chain of
dramatic events.
She didn't seem to hold any grudge against him, although she still pursed her
lips and raised her eyes to the ceiling as she spoke about him. She said he often
called her with stupid things, and when she was talking about how he had recently
even expressed interest in Flynn, another girl shyly peeked into the room.
Apart from the nurses and Maya, I had no female company here, so I smiled
broadly when I saw Martina.
“Hi,” she greeted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. –
I was just looking for where you are...
She must have felt awkward at the sight of Mai, who immediately looked her
over from head to toe.
“Martina, hello,” I said, surprised. – Did you come alone? Without Dylan?
– With Dylan, but your brother stopped him outside the hospital and it's probably
going to be a long conversation, because he told me to go to you alone now, and
he'll join later.
– Nice of you to drop by. That's nice, I said honestly. – Come sit here with us.
Maya didn't even hide the fact that she was watching the girl with narrowed
eyes, and I wished I was closer to her now so I could discreetly nudge her and
admonish her to behave herself.
– I can wait, I don't want to enter your conversation like this. –

Martina waved her hand nervously and took a step to retreat.
“But calm down,” I protested. – You're not disturbing. Maya, this is Martina,
Dylan's girlfriend.
– Ah… – Maya nodded and, if possible, looked at the Spanish woman even
more closely.
“Martina is very fine,” I added truthfully, throwing it away
aunt's significant look.
"If Hailie says you're okay, then it must be, nice to meet you," Maya said,
finally easing up a bit. She even smiled, although she was still on guard as Martina
timidly sat down next to her.
I had the impression that the girl would rather be somewhere else right now.
It's true that she always wanted to have a good relationship with me. I knew her,
she wasn't a stupid girl - she believed that maintaining a friendly relationship with
Dylan's sister was one of the conditions for their successful relationship.
Fortunately, the three of us started getting along quite quickly and even joked together.
– So you live in Spain? – Maya asked.

– I come from the islands, but I'm studying in Madrid. Well, now I live and
study in New York, but only for a while, through exchange, explained Martina.
– I love Madrid, I go there often – Maya said. – My husband has his favorite
churros cafe there.
- Really? – Martina laughed and shook her head in disbelief. – Everyone is
crazy about these churros, I don't know what it is. Dylan is the same, whenever
he is with me in Madrid, he brings me to the same place, always, always.
“Maybe it's the same place,” I suggested.

– Probably yes, they both like the most expensive restaurants – Maya snorted.
– Oh, that's it. – Martina raised her finger. – I tell Dylan that sometimes you
can eat better in an ugly place than where he always wants
go…
– But I must admit that Monty and I had a bit of a fight once. We went to a
bar, you know, the first one we saw, and Monty got his double espresso in... -
Maya paused her voice dramatically - ... a dirty cup. Disgusting. Then he made
a scandal in half the city.
“God, poor thing, you probably fell into the ground,” I snorted.
– But no, no. I did the drama with him. Hailie, it was a dirty cup. You have to
admit that it's distasteful.
Martina and I exchanged subtle smiles.
– Maya, if you're in Madrid and I'm there, give me a call and I'll take you to a cheap bar
that's great and where there are clean dishes, right?
– I can't believe you'll find one without red carpets and champagne
for thousands of euros that she will like - I laughed.
– Since when have you been such a tease, hmm? – Maya stuck out her tongue at me. –
Very well, we'll do that, we'll meet up and go to a cheap bar.
– Well then, let's make an appointment – Martina was happy. – Hailie, you,
of course, are coming with us?
- Necessarily. She can have fun like no other, Maya told me, and I laughed
so heartily that my wound hurt and I had to crouch down a little to relieve myself.
Maya was full of prejudices, but she accepted Martina quite quickly. The
latter was also not discouraged by my aunt's directness or her detachment from
reality, which could often be detected in the texts she wrote.
Well, on the other hand, I couldn't be surprised - Martina was dating Dylan,
so she already had experience in dealing with spoiled rich people.
Later, Dylan joined us and he was obviously happy that Martina found herself
in the company. He put his hand on her shoulder and winked at me. The girls
returned to talking about Madrid bars and started planning something again, and
I remembered how, when I was close to death, I told him about the party in Saint-
Tropez.
For a moment, I thought we were thinking the same thing, because when Maya and
Martina were giggling loudly, Dylan's and mine met their eyes and there was the same
seriousness and mutual understanding in them. It hurt my heart, that memory was charged
with such powerful emotions.
Dylan didn't last long either - he quickly looked away and looked somewhere to the
side. He took a moment to recover and didn't even mention that he knew about our party
from the past. He also didn't comment when the girls planned for me to join them in Madrid.
I didn't comment much on it either. A party in Spain sounded great, but how could I
think about having such fun when I was lying in the hospital with a stab wound - my life
goal at the moment was to heal from the trauma of sexual assault, all while wrapped in the
black cloak of mourning for Sonny...
All I could do was hope that maybe one day I would get over all these events and then
I would plan events with my girls even at the end of the world.
Maybe someday.
I pushed my hair to one side. And then for the second one. I sighed in frustration.
I didn't have the conditions for proper care here. It was difficult for me to even wash my
hair regularly, so I felt like it was always dirty.
Today I felt particularly crappy. Not that I've been in the best mood lately, but today
shouldn't be any worse than yesterday, but my wound was starting to itch so badly that I
wanted to scratch it. The doctors were still reluctant to let me eat a 100% normal meal, and
Shane smelled terrible of french fries today, so salty, and I unconsciously developed a taste
for them so much that I
In retaliation, I spoke rudely to him several times. The poor guy didn't know what I meant.
- What are you doing? Shane asked as I clucked loudly in annoyance.

– Nothing.
– You're going to tear your hair out, girl.

– Well, then, I'll tear it out.
– Hey, what's up? – he said gently, extremely patient.
During my recovery, the boys in general allowed me more than normal. Even Vincent
became extremely tolerant of my humor.
– They're fat! – I exclaimed dramatically, ready to cry.

– They are not at all...
– Yes, they are, I can see them, I feel them… – I sobbed. – I've had enough
oily hair and this hospital and I want fries…
Tony looked up from the comic he was reading and raised an eyebrow.
“Your hair is normal,” Shane replied, scratching his temple. – And what kind of fries?
I pursed my lips and moved my eyes, full of pity and tears, to the window. Sky
it was white as paper today.
I didn't even have to look at the twins to know they were throwing
each other meaningful glances.
– Okay, girl, wait, look. – Shane walked over to me and sat down on the mattress next
to me.
- What are you doing?
– I'll give you some, I don't know, braid or something.

I sniffled and raised my eyebrows, but I also obeyed him and made room for him. My
recovery, although slow, was visible, because not long ago I would not have been able to
move, and now I could almost sit up.
“You can't braid hair,” I told him.

– Yeah, you'll be surprised. Don't shake your head.
– Oh, Shane.
- Wait.
First he pulled my hair for a moment, and then he reached for his phone to
play a video tutorial. Then he decided to comb out my tangles, and then we
went back to pulling individual locks.
Tony kept glancing at us over his comic book and was clearly having fun,
snorting in amusement every now and then.
– Ow, no, leave it, leave it! – I growled at one point and broke free, moving away from
Shane so abruptly that it hurt my stomach.
– I didn't do anything.
“You're just tearing her up, dickhead,” Tony interjected.
– Well, unless I have to touch her hair to do her hair, yes or no, genius?
“You don't touch, you just pull,” I grumbled.

– Do you want this braid or not?
– I want to, but…
– Is this your beautiful braid? – Tony snorted as he pulled it out

neck to see Shane's work.
- I am not done yet.
– It's falling apart at the very top.
– You decide for yourself…
“Okay, thanks a lot,” I hissed, interrupting the boys in one of their famous
fights. – I'm already tired of hairstyles.
And I sniffled again, staring out the window, my face turning cloudy.
Tony sighed ostentatiously. He put the comic book aside and stood up.
“Okay, move over,” he said to Shane, who wanted to argue, but then he
took one last look at the miserable work he had braided in my hair, and I think
he came to the conclusion that he didn't do very well.
Or maybe he wanted Tony to embarrass himself.
I immediately felt the difference as Shane's clumsy movements were replaced by

Tony's gentle fingers, which first worked the knots out and then got to work. The
phone with the tutorial was lost somewhere in the sheets - Tony didn't need it. He
combed my hair and then started playing with it and his gentle strokes felt like a
massage to me.
I even closed my eyes as Shane watched us from the armchair with a scowl on his
face.
I tried to turn around a few times, intrigued to see what Tony was doing there, but
he just kept telling me to keep my head straight, and by the end, I had two beautiful
matching braids on my head that started at the sides and connected at the back. one.
My low mood turned one hundred and eighty degrees for the rest of the day
I kept reaching for the mirror to look at myself with a smile.
The guest I least expected came to visit me while Will and I were playing cards. I still
had the hairstyle Tony had done on my head, just a little messy. Today my mood has
clearly improved. As much, of course, as he could improve under such conditions.
Adrien entered the room and nodded at Will, who immediately stood up.
The tender expression that was reserved for me changed into a mask of cold
professionalism.
– Does Vince know you're here? – he asked without greeting.
– He knows I have to send flowers and get well wishes. – Adrien nonchalantly
waved the pink bouquet, which, I must admit, contrasted quite nicely with his black
suit.
– But you decided to come here in person…?
– My sister insisted that it would be more appropriate, so I gave in. She asked me
to say hello to you, Hailie Monet.
I just closed my mouth open in surprise and raised my eyebrows.
– Grace says hello to me?
Adrien raised his too.

– She… too, of course. – He cleared his throat. – Naturally, I'm here on
behalf of my entire family.
“Grace says hello to me,” I repeated skeptically.
– I meant Keira, actually. Please, the flowers are from us.
She suggested daisies and I see that she couldn't have made a better choice. - He
took a quick glance around the room and waved the bouquet again, then placed it
gently on the edge of the bed.
He actually bought daisies too, only pink ones. They were beautiful.
I would have guessed that he didn't come up with the idea of buying them himself, even
if he didn't openly admit it.
That's why I squinted.
– Who?
– My sister, Keira... She likes you, which is admirable, honestly, because
she doesn't like many people. She said she had a good time talking to you at
the engagement. She was very concerned about your condition.
I stared at Adrien in shock. I remembered that he actually had another
sister besides Grace, but that was information Maya had given me. When did
Keira start liking me?
– Hailie? Will frowned at my confusion. –
You met Keira. I saw you were talking...
– Slim, light brown hair? Otherworldly genes? - Adrien guided me, a smile appeared on
his lips, but he also looked at me carefully. – Sorry, I don't remember what she was wearing.
– Err… I think it's a jumpsuit? Come on, little one, take it easy,
think, I know you've seen her.
They both looked at me expectantly, and I started to panic a little because they told
me I was talking to some woman, which I didn't remember at all. I could still ignore Adrien,
but Will wouldn't cheat on me.
Adrien quickly became impatient and took out his phone, selecting the first photo
of his sister he had in the gallery. She posed with a small child in her arms. She was
dressed in sweatpants and smiling broadly.
She had an amazing smile, sincere and wide, and her teeth were as white and
straight as a movie star's. That's how I recognized her, and then I remembered that
her eyes were already looking at me. With sincere, although not intrusive, interest,
and later even with some sympathy.
I was standing in a lilac dress and I was tormented by something. I remember that
mentally I didn't feel good. Then she accosted me.
– Sorry, I'm looking for Grace.
- I'm listening? – I asked, startled from my thoughts.
– I'm looking for Grace. Hostess of the party? Fiancee? Grace Janderau? – she
directed me.
“I know,” I muttered. - I do not know where it is.
– A Adrien?
I rolled my eyes. I could not resist.

– I don't know where they both are.
The woman looked at me with surprise, but also with slight, faint amusement.
– From your expressions, I guess you're more on the future groom's side?
I lifted my chin.
– I'm Vincent's sister.
– I'm Grace's sister.
I looked at her more closely. I would expect the same or similar level of repulsive
aura from someone related to Grace's bitch, but the woman standing in front of me
didn't repulse me at all. On the contrary, she looked like a well-to-do person who did
not despise the world on principle. Certainly wealthy, yet down to earth.
–Keira? – I guessed, remembering the conversation with Maya.

“Hailie,” she replied.
– Who told you about me? – I asked suspiciously.
She laughed heartily.
– I don't want to be too direct, but everyone was talking about you when
you were found. It was quite a scandal. It must have been big for even me to
find out about it. I usually avoid gossip from around the world... - She looked
calmly around her surroundings. – …Organization.
– I think I heard something about you cutting yourself off. – I nodded.
- You could say. – She tilted her head. – Who told you about me, if I may
ask?
– Maya.
-Oh, Maya. She married your… uncle? If I'm not mistaken?
– You say you avoid gossip? – I raised an eyebrow with a smile.
She laughed.
– After all, she was engaged to my brother, so a little about that as well
it blew my mind.
– Yes, she married my uncle. They live in France. They have a son.
– I hope she's happy.
“I guess so…” I shrugged and looked at her. –
She spoke well of you.
- Really? – she was surprised.
– She said you went away to college and distanced yourself.
– I was distant, long before I went to college.
“Maybe I should follow your example…” I muttered.

– I recommend it, it's the healthiest decision I've ever made. Right next to
the one about switching to vegetarianism.
I smiled.
– But you're here today anyway.
She nodded.
– I distanced myself from my family, but I never completely cut myself off from them.
– And… are you satisfied? From this decision? – When I saw how interested he was
looking at me, I pretended to shrug evasively and added: – You know, I'm just asking.
– Would you like something to drink? – she asked with a smile. “Grace won't be upset if I
say hello to her later.
I snorted and agreed, glad to have some companion here, if only for a moment.
I smiled at Sonny, who moved out of my way as I walked back to the ward. I stood at the
buffet, enjoying the bright natural light streaming in through the large windows, and thanked
Keira when she offered me a water and reached for the juice.
“Be careful, the currant stains your teeth,” Keira warned me.
– I remember, you're an orthodontist, right? - I remembered.
– You know a lot about me.
– Maya also mentioned that you have a husband and, I think, children? - I said,
thinking back to that conversation and raising his glass at the same time.
– A husband and two daughters, yes.
– They didn't come here with you?
– They stayed in Houston. "I don't take them to, let's call it, these types of family
gatherings," she said, and when a young, dark-haired waiter approached her with a tray of
slim champagne glasses and offered her one of them, she shook her head, muttering, "Thank
you, I don't drink."
– Why don't you take them? – I asked with interest.
– Because this is not the world I want them to belong to.
- You do not miss? – I asked in a whisper at one point.
– For the family? I said that I had some contact with them.
– For this life. – I pointed at the surroundings with my chin.
– This life is full of balls, vanity and dark dealings, there is nothing to miss.
I became lost in thought again, and this time Keira, seeing it,
added, "You know, it's me, I've always been a recluse." I wasn't like my
sister or even Maya, whom you probably know quite well? At school, I didn't
care about sitting at the most popular kids' table during lunch. In fact, I was the
happiest when my parents finally agreed to let me homeschool.
I raised my head quickly.

– Home education?
– Oho, I assume this topic is not unknown to you?
– It's still hanging over me. – I rolled my eyes. – Vincent would like to
withdraw me from school.
– I was jealous, I had to beg my father to have mercy and let me study at
home.
– Did you really want this? – I grimaced in disbelief.
– Of course, then I finally focused on my own passions. I could organize my
lesson plan around horse riding, competitions and learning Japanese. I traveled
a bit, took language courses, and then also volunteered.
“Sounds interesting,” I commented, surprised that I didn't have to lie.
– If you don't care about conquering the school canteen, I recommend

private lessons. I think you can get more out of them, especially if you have
opportunities like me and you. – She winked at me. – That's why I didn't cut
myself off from my family completely. I owe them a lot.
– Even Grace? – I joked. I immediately thought that this was a rather
dangerous and tactless comment, because I don't know Keira well enough to
clearly demonstrate my dislike for her sister, but fortunately she didn't seem
offended. The corners of her mouth turned up and I think she knew why I was
so prejudiced against her.
– Over the years, I have learned to live with it. It's not even difficult if you
don't get in her way, and since we were and are completely different, I never
got in her way.
I nodded. It made sense.

“That's why Vincent always scared me,” she admitted.
I took a sip of my juice and swallowed it quickly to answer faster.
– Vincent is truly loved deep in his heart. Sometimes just annoying.
“I think he'll be a good match for Grace then.” After all, our sister is annoying
sometimes too, isn't she, Keira? They will be able to get angry together. – Then, I
remember Adrien interjected. He met us at the buffet.
The woman smiled broadly.
“I was looking for you,” she said and hugged him, and he eagerly hugged her back.
– But I found you. – He kissed her on the cheek. - Like children? If

Did Annabelle like her gift?
– Of course, but Adrien, I asked you not to give her such expensive toys. I'm
trying to raise these children to be human beings.
"And I'm trying to ruin them," Adrien replied, grinning happily and then
his eyes fell on me. – Oh, and I see you've met Hailie Monet.
“It's a nice surprise to meet someone so…” Keira looked at
me, looking for the right word.
– Similar to you? – Adrien suggested, giving us a mocking smile.
– Sort of. “She winked at me, then grimaced slightly, setting the glass of water
on the table. – Give me a moment, I have to go to the bathroom. I'll be back soon,
Hailie, and if you're not here, we'll catch up somehow. Something tells me you're
one of the few people here I feel like talking to.
I waved to her with a smile appearing on my lips

in response to a compliment.
Then that same smile evaporated as quickly as it appeared, because I realized
that now that Keira had disappeared in a hurry, Adrien was my companion. I
instinctively looked around for Sonny,
and then I grabbed a carafe of currant juice, just to keep my hands busy.
Good thing Keira went to the bathroom. At least she was protected from it
shooting that was about to take place in the main hall.
“I remember,” I admitted, and Will looked relieved.

I also glanced at Adrien and added, "Actually, I had a good time talking to her,
too." If you can, please give her my thanks and greetings.
Adrien nodded gracefully.

- Thank you.
Then he raised his hand to adjust the black cuff of his shirt, and I remained
calm, even though this guy who was basically a stranger to me made an
unexpected move near me. My body didn't react with stress, I didn't tense or flinch.
This was a surprise to me. At first I thought it was because of Will's presence,
that I felt safe enough with him that even Adrien didn't stress me out, but then I
realized that there could be another explanation. My twisted brain had no warning
signals about Adrien's touch because it knew and was used to the fact that this
man would probably consider sticking his hand in a flame rather than touching me.
This lulled the vigilance of my alarm system.
And indeed, I was not disappointed.

He didn't touch me.
He didn't stay long. He came because his sister persuaded him to do so, and
he felt it was appropriate, since it was during our conversation that the shooting
began. He looked at me most of the time with a quizzical expression on his face.
He talked mostly to Will, and in a very formal way. Fortunately, my brother didn't
go into details, but Adrien was smart and I knew he could definitely put together
enough information in his head.
a detailed picture of what happened, even with the little information he was given.
Not to mention that from all the conversations I overheard, it seemed that this
entire Organization was also supposed to deal with this matter. I didn't really know
what that meant yet, but after my father's visit, I had hope that I would find out
more soon.
I must admit that I was looking forward to the conversation with Vincent no less
impatiently than to return home.
I could initiate it here, in the hospital, but I preferred to use my stay here to
think about many things. I was coming to new conclusions.
I was making new decisions. I was sorting out some things in my head.
I planned that our serious conversation would take place at home, just as my
father suggested.
And I didn't even think about whether Vincent's perpetually dark circles under
his eyes and pale face could mean that he had more problems on his mind than
we all thought.
81
GREAT AND INVINCIBLE
In total, I spent almost a month in medical facilities,

including the time of my coma, recovery after surgery and some
subsequent rehabilitation. My whole days were filled with therapy,
classes with a physiotherapist and afternoon massages. Vincent was
paying a lot of money for all this and I knew it for sure because as soon
as I was somewhat recovered, I was transported from the first hospital
where Dylan had taken me because it was the closest, to a private
clinic where our whole family was insured.
I've stayed here before, after Ryder's kidnapping, and both then and
now, the care offered here would meet the expectations of even the
most demanding patient. And also the most demanding legal guardian
of such a patient, as was the case with me.
By the end, I was so tired of my bed, the small room with brown
walls, and the kind smiles of the nurses that I cried to Vincent to take
me home every time I saw him.
That is, every now and then.
I also felt sad when I looked at his tense face, slightly bloodshot
eyes and clenched jaw. I really wanted to take him on
holidays.
I believe it was hard for him to keep saying no to me, and finally one day
he nodded to my pleas with a heavy sigh. I was speechless. And then my
excitement made me want to jump out of bed and start packing, which made
my stomach hurt, make me wince, and get a stern look from him. That's
when I almost ruined my chances of leaving the clinic this century.
A small welcome organized by the guys was waiting for me at the

residence. A special place was prepared for me on the couch, where I was
to lie because I was still being told to economize, and plenty of easily
digestible food was ordered. At this stage, my diet was more varied and I
was only advised to avoid fatty, fried foods.
It didn't bother me anymore. I ate delicious salads, various bowls, and rice
and groats with vegetables. For desserts, I ate fruit and drank water cocktails.
With such tasty food and an interesting movie, we celebrated my birthday,

Christmas and New Year's Eve. Yes, I missed so many opportunities to
celebrate in one go, and in one year. I felt sad, and I think the boys felt even
more sad, and we tried to deal with it with humor, but even that didn't really
work. We couldn't joke and chill like we always do, even Shane had a problem
with that.
How could we? Every corner of the Monet Mansion reminded me of Sonny
- he stayed there so often. Usually invisible, he was always watching
somewhere. The knowledge that he was no longer with us, that I would never
again feel his silent presence and care, hurt me more than a knife.
Immediately after leaving the clinic, as soon as I felt the cold January air
on my face, I demanded to be taken to the cemetery. Without any reservations,
Will agreed to take me there the very next day.
He knew that I would be deaf to any arguments on this matter.
I dressed in black, as I would go to a funeral. I took out a belt from the belt
loops of the coat I put on so that nothing would fit around my still sensitive
belly. I also put on long, insulated boots with flat soles and wrapped myself
in a woolen scarf. Only I didn't agree to wear the hat at first. All the ones I
had were there
too cheerful in my opinion. Some are colorful, some have cute pompoms or
silly patterns. Will had to give me his, which he did for fear of blowing the
wind out of my ears.
I wanted to go to the cemetery as early as possible, but my morning
rehabilitation was not allowed and we could only leave home after lunch.
The journey took us a little over an hour, and since it was winter, I had the
impression that I had barely woken up before it was already getting dark.
Moreover, the frost was piercing the bones today, the white snow hurt the
eyes, and the treeless area where the tombstones were located was a
perfect outlet for the raging wind. The snow crunched under our thick soles
as we walked hand in hand among the graves.
The cemetery was completely deserted, no one bothered to visit the
dead in such weather. It was empty and had a bit of a horror movie feel to
it, but I wasn't afraid - I was too overwhelmed by other emotions, and
besides, I was here with Will.
He hadn't been at the funeral either, because he had stayed by my side
while I was still in a coma, but he had visited Sonny's grave a few times
after that, so now he knew exactly where to go. If I had come here alone, I
would probably have found my way quickly - currently only a few graves
were decorated with so many colorful flowers.
I insisted on carrying the large bouquet that we ordered from the flower
shop on my behalf. There was already one on the grave from our entire
family, but it had long since withered and wasted away, and besides, I
wanted to bring Sonny only flowers from myself. As if I could compensate
him for anything with these stupid hacks. Every now and then I looked at
the wreath with alternating contempt and dejection.
The wreaths placed on Sonny's gravestone were mostly soaked, limp
and withered. There weren't many of them here, although it seemed so at
first glance thanks to the impressive bouquet from the Monet family.
As I approached the grave, I began to cry, and my tears were blown
away by the wind. Will's arm was wrapped tightly around me, and when I
saw my bodyguard's name carved in stone, my brother let me bury my face
in his chest. Will himself had moist eyes.
Recently I was standing over my mother's tombstone. And grandma. I hoped

that I had already exhausted the limit of such losses in my life and that I would
not have to experience similar pain in the near future, but as you can see, I was
wrong. I sobbed into Will's coat as he patiently stood with me, held me, and
remained silent, allowing me to express my despair.
Taking a break from sobbing, sniffling and rubbing my eyelids, I laid a wreath
at the stone slab. Will helped me, making sure I didn't bend down too far. I
appreciated the fact that he read all my needs from my gestures and did not
disturb the silence with unnecessary questions.
He crouched down and positioned the wreath just as I would have done it myself
if I had been strong enough. At one point, I squeezed my eyes shut again and
started crying so much that he immediately jumped up and hugged me tightly.
We stood there for a long time. There were many things I wanted to say to
Sonny, but my mind was so chaotic that I couldn't think straight. I tried to explain
to him what had motivated me when I ran into the forest, to apologize to him, but
each time it ended in a wave of tears.
Eventually I started shaking from cold and too much emotion. Will wanted to
give me as much time as I needed, but when he realized that I could stand by
Sonny's grave all night and would rather collapse than move, he gently insisted
that I come back.
I felt like I didn't deserve a warm home, while my bodyguard was doomed to
freeze alone in a cold, dark grave beneath the dirt and snow in this empty,
terrifying cemetery. So I continued to cry and cuddle into Will, who wrapped his
arms around me so cleverly that I didn't even realize it as we started moving
back to the car.
We drove home in sad silence, broken only by my sniffling. We reached the
residence in the evening. Will asked me to take a warm shower and bundle up
for the night, staring at me worriedly as he helped me take off my coat. I sat
down on the steps and carefully bent down to take off my boots. I was about to
put them back in the locker when there was a loud clang upstairs.
I looked up and so did Will, who immediately started moving

onto the stairs, frowning and gesturing for me to stay where I was.
– What happened there? - he called, slowly climbing the steps. – Which one
is what?
I looked at Will's back and felt uneasy. Villa. I rose quietly
and I clung to the railing, terrified that something bad was about to happen again.
“Will,” I murmured so quietly that he didn't even hear me.
I watched tensely as he went upstairs. When he reached the top of the stairs,
he must have seen something there, because he stopped sneaking, straightened
up, and quickly moved forward, disappearing from my view.
“What's up, hey,” he asked in a low voice, and I strained my ears for an
answer, but all I heard was muffled clatters. – Damn, wait, watch out…
Will definitely didn't sound like there was a burglar upstairs, so emboldened, I
slowly followed his lead. My fingers gripped the railing tightly as I silently climbed
the steps.
I held my breath, afraid of what I would find, as I had become even more fearful
after recent events.
I stopped in the hall and opened my eyes wide when I saw Will trying to grab
Vincent's arm, who was leaning sideways against the wall with his eyes closed.
There was a broken whiskey glass lying on the floor.

My world spun.
“Watch out for the glass,” Will said.
It looked like Vince was heading towards the bedroom, probably on his way
from his office. He must have drank more there, otherwise he would be able to
immediately shoo Will away and growl something coldly at him.
My favorite brother had trouble holding Vincent up on his own, and he kept
closing his eyes as if he was falling asleep. I wanted to help.
I forced my legs to move and jumped to the door of Vince's room, which I
immediately opened wide and held open.
The room was dim and quite cool, like a crisp morning.
“What the…” Dylan's voice caught in his throat as he stopped at the top of the
stairs, completely surprised by the sight he found in the upstairs hall. Was
shirtless, in short sweatpants, with a towel over his shoulder and damp hair.
He was probably just coming back from the gym, and it was great because he
had the opportunity to use the strength of his muscles and help Will.
So he did, immediately flying over and catching Vincent from the other side.
He put his arm around his shoulders and he and Will led him into the dark
bedroom. Vincent wasn't completely drunk - he moved his legs quite
consciously, but he probably had a problem with his labyrinth, because he kept
closing his eyes and shaking his head sometimes, as if he didn't believe that
what was happening to him was real.
“You screwed up, bro,” Dylan commented, trying to sound amused
cover your anxiety.
They placed Vince on the bed. Will began to take off his shiny shoes, and
Dylan went to the windows and closed the curtains, probably so that the bright
daylight wouldn't rudely wake him up in the morning. After all, Sam had had
experience waking up with a hangover.
“Bring some water,” Will told me. I wanted to help him with the second one
shoe, but I changed direction.
My thoughts were racing in my head as I ran down the stairs. Knowing that
Vincent had reduced himself to such a state was like having the lifeline ripped
from the arms of a drowning man. Now it seemed that the entire family and
the Monet Mansion were in a state of inebriation along with him. It began to
feel as if the lights had dimmed, the walls had faded, and the silence in the
halls had become so deafening that my ears began to ring. As I poured water
for Vince, I squinted and tried to control my imagination.
Before I took the glass of water to Vince's bedroom, I also grabbed an

aspirin from the medicine cabinet. I remembered what I used to self-medicate
after my few adventures with alcohol.
I passed Dylan in the doorway as he was leaving, sighing heavily and
rubbing his wet hair with the towel still slung over his muscular shoulders. We
looked into each other's eyes briefly.
Will was still in the bedroom, putting his coat aside
a chaise longue standing against the wall. I couldn't imagine Vince ever using
this piece of furniture to relax.
Now he was lying on his side on the bed, without his shoes and jacket. Will
wanted to hand him a glass to moisten his mouth, but Vince must have really
not been as drunk as it seemed at first, because he shook his head quite
consciously and resolutely, then waved his hand as if he wanted to get rid of
all the intruders in his house. bedroom.
Will pursed his lips but didn't comment, just informed him that he had water
on the nightstand if he needed it, and then placed his hand on my back. When
he left, he closed the door behind us.
“We need to clean up the glass,” I said to break the gloomy silence.
- I will tidy up.
– I can do it.
– You're not allowed to bend down so much, I'll do it. You were supposed to take a
warm shower, remember?
I couldn't argue with that argument, especially not with Will, who was
breathing and blowing on me, so I nodded, but stopped in the hall and turned
around. Will didn't move - he just stood there, staring blankly at the broken
whiskey glass.
– Is Vince okay? – I asked like a child
wishing that an adult's words would bring him relief.
“He'll be fine,” Will said, giving me a slight, and to me rather forced, smile
before walking away, probably to get a broom and a rag.
Lying in bed, I couldn't stop thinking about Vincent. Knowing that my oldest
brother would always take care of everything gave me great comfort. In my
naive mind, I believed that whatever problem arose, Vince would go to the
forbidden corridor and solve it there. Well, he portrayed himself as an
omniscient lord of the world who never needs help and knows what to do,
even in the most hopeless situations.
Today I saw that he is human like all of us. Human,

which also has limits and whose limits have just been crossed.
Vince intoxicated by alcohol is definitely not the version of Vince I wanted

to see. I remembered that he always had good whiskey, as well as a number
of other spirits in his office, and I was afraid that he had long since become
addicted to them, something he had learned to hide well. Vince also had a
hard time getting attention or taking care of him.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin to hide her trembling. I didn't want him to
become an alcoholic. I wanted him to remain as he was in my head - great
and invincible.
Naturally, in the wake of these thoughts, I remembered Winter. Even though
her situation was a hundred times worse, I started comparing them and became
terrified of what would happen if Vince lost control of his life in a similar way to
what happened to Win's father.
In addition, he insulted his daughter and lost interest in her.
I felt sad.
I remember that even Ruby, who deals with similarly difficult cases every
day, frowned sympathetically when I told her that Winter couldn't even go back
to her own home for fear of what she would find there...
One sec.
I shivered and sat on the bed. The blanket slid off my torso.
I stared at the semi-dark floor, and my hands, which were resting on the
mattress, began to tremble. I knitted my eyebrows, thinking hard.
Have I talked to Ruby? At Vince's engagement?

I remembered the smile with which she greeted me. She asked me about
the foundation and whether I planned to get involved in it in the new year. She
talked about a new project. Something about enabling primary school students
to go on two-week stays in London. And then…
I froze and suddenly started breathing heavily. As if together

she swallowed concrete with air. I swallowed, but it didn't help.
I blurted out to Ruby everything about Winter's situation.
I put my hand to my mouth and then removed it to breathe loudly.
“No, no,” I whispered. – Tell me it's not true. You didn't do it.
I jumped out of bed and walked barefoot around the room, tangling my
fingers in my hair.
“You saw Ruby at the party,” I told myself frantically. – You were happy
to see her. You talked and now... Already?
I stopped and wrapped my arms around myself. Not anymore. You talked to Win.
Ruby smiled widely at me. I liked that she was always so kind to me. She
complimented my lavender dress and loose hair. She said I looked like a
star, and then in a low voice she joked that I must be better looking than
Grace.
I returned her cordiality and giggled with satisfaction at the mention of
my brother's future fiancée. Anyone who didn't like her automatically got a
plus from me.
"Uh, Ruby?" – I asked when she was about to leave. – I have one more
matter.
- Yes? - She stopped.
– I recently found out something...
What was driving me? Jealousy of Leo or maybe resentment towards the girl
about the matter with Ryder?
Maybe it was the realization that I had to go to the Canary Islands, take
a break from school again, and therefore from Leo, while Winter was still
living with him. She managed to get me out of her life.
I don't know if I really wanted to be angry at her, and if so, whether it

should have been so important to me at that moment. Maybe I was just
accumulating too many negative emotions that I could easily release by
blaming it all on some random girl. But she still had a fucked up life. There
was no need for me to fuck it up even more for her.
Apparently I did. My memory revealed new sights and sounds to me, like when
Adrien visited me in the hospital and I found out that I had met Keira.
– My boyfriend's friend, Winter Hansen... is in a difficult situation.

I think he needs help, I said, clearly remembering Leo telling me in a firm voice that Win didn't
want any help.
As soon as Ruby realized what kind of matter I had for her, she immediately
became serious and put on a professional expression on her face, listening
carefully to the report she was receiving from the sister of the foundation's
president himself. It made sense that he wasn't going to ignore it, but rather make
it a priority.
And apparently she took care of him in no time, if Leo's words in the hospital
are to be believed. He visited me a few more times after that, but he didn't
mention Winter again, he didn't tell me anything about her, even when I asked.
Maybe he knew I was the one who complained about her? He knew, but he
needed confirmation and didn't want to ask me directly? Could this have been the
case? I paced back and forth across the room, thinking frantically.
God, what have I done?
I'm the worst.
I wanted to immediately pick up the phone and call Leo and explain everything,
but it wasn't that easy because I wasn't sure how much he actually knew. I had to
talk to him about it face to face.
I held my new cell phone that Vincent had recently given me in my hand for a moment
and wondered what to do. Finally, I put it down with a gloomy face. What if I call Leo and
Winter is there? Does she know that I was responsible for making her life even more
complicated? I didn't like her, of course, but I didn't want to become a villain.
I was sitting in the luxurious Monet Residence with five boys who were really
at my beck and call, while she was condemned to the mercy of her friend and his
mother, without family support, hurt by the illness and incompetence of her own
father.
That night I had a terrible dream. I finally got back under the covers and
soon fell asleep, but there were too many heavy thoughts in my head to be
able to rest.
In the morning, after waking up, I was in a state of blissful unconsciousness
for only a few seconds, and then the beer I had brewed spilled on me. It left
a trail of guilt that would stink and stick to me all day long.
On top of all this, fear for Vincent didn't help. As I walked past his
bedroom, I listened to see if he had gotten up yet. I was thinking about
knocking, looking at him and maybe offering to help him with something, but
I changed my mind. Like I said, Vince is not an easy person to care for. At
the speed of light, I would be politely but firmly asked to leave his bedroom.
So I didn't see my oldest brother until the afternoon.

Feeling morose, I hid from the world in the library, wading through one of the
books, one with a quite nice plot, which I would have read much better if my
mind had not been consumed by nerves and sadness.
Vincent found me there.
82
UNPUNISHED
I can't describe how relieved I felt when he said hello

with me in his usual strong voice. As always, his hair was neatly
combed back and shiny, his eyes were focused, sharp and sober, his
clothes were ironed, fresh and elegant, and instead of the smell of
expensive alcohol, there was only the discreet smell of toilet water
around him.
I lowered the book, enjoying the sight of my oldest brother
in his usual great form.
His movements were graceful again as he sat down on the couch across from
the chair where I was slumped.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Usually when he said those words it made my hair stand on end, but
this time I knew that the topic of our conversation would not be any of
my antics for which he wanted to reprimand me, so I shifted in my seat
to make myself more comfortable.
“First of all, I'm sorry for what you witnessed yesterday, Hailie,” he
began in a gruff voice, his eyes staring straight at me. –
I admit, I drank too much whiskey and lost control, which shouldn't have happened.
– It's okay, Vince, it happens. I shrugged, but he shook his head.
- You are wrong. There is no excuse for my condition yesterday, certainly not
now, at such an important time. I am responsible for many things, including you,
and getting drunk is extremely childish behavior that I do not tolerate in others or in
myself.
“Come on,” I sighed, tired of his harshness. – You had the right
until a moment of weakness, there is a lot going on.
– Precisely because there was a lot going on, I had no right to it.
– I don't think anything happened.
Vince looked at me closely with his pale blue eyes.
– You got scared.
I parted my lips and didn't say anything for a moment.
– For what?
“Me,” he replied calmly.
- NO…
– Hailie, I know you do.
I sat with my mouth open for a moment, and then I said, "I... I'm always
afraid of you."
I failed to make him laugh.
– It was a different kind of fear.
I stopped denying it.
– Hailie, it won't happen again.
“Okay,” I muttered.
Even though his gaze, as I often point out, was icy, it was
I felt like it was so hot now that it was burning holes in me.
– Were you in pain today? – he asked, pointing his chin at my stomach.
- Not really.
– Did you apply oil to the wound?
- Yes. – I suppressed an impatient sigh. I heard these questions several times a day
from each of the brothers.
– Apply it again before going to bed.
There was silence. I traced the tip of my index finger along the corner of the book's
hard cover. I looked somewhere to the side, between the window and the secretary. I felt
Vincent's eyes on me. I knew that since he wasn't out yet, he had something more to tell
me. I waited.
– Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?
He used to ask this question in a cold tone that suggested I was in trouble that he
already knew about and thus encouraged me to admit it. But now his voice sounded
gentle and not at all like he was pressing me. I looked at him.
There were many things I would like to discuss with him right now. So many that they
were swirling around in my head and overwhelming me, leaving me hanging open and
unable to form any coherent response. So I closed them, shook my head and after a while
said in a hoarse voice:
- And you?
He might have dressed in clean, ironed clothes and sprayed himself with expensive
perfume, but that strange look in his eyes that had already bothered me in the hospital
had not gone away.
Vince shook his head and stood up, but stopped as if he wanted something else
add to leaving.
– If all goes well, maybe you will be able to return to school from mid-February.
I raised my head and looked at him.

- To school?
– Approximately. We will need to discuss this with your doctor first, of course.
– Will you let me go back to school? – I was amazed.

Vincent sighed.
– Locking you at home obviously didn't work. And since Clarissa was behind
most of the attacks on you and will no longer pose a threat to you, I don't think
it's worth limiting you and forcing you to homeschool.
I looked down at the book and Vince headed towards the door.
He stopped again as I spoke again, very quietly this time.
– I don't want to go back to school.

He turned around.
- I'm listening?
I looked at him, a little scared and without courage, as if what

I said aloud, it was just dawning on me.
“I don't want to go back to school,” I repeated. – I prefer to stay at home.
Vince frowned and was silent for a moment, then moved towards me. Seeing
this, I put the book aside. Tears distorted my vision as his arm wrapped around
my back and my cheek pressed against his side. I wanted to explain something,
but my throat tightened.
“Shhh,” Vince whispered soothingly, stroking my shoulder blades. - It's your decision,
Hailie. You will do what you want. I promise.
“I want to stay home,” I cried again, hugging him. – I want to be home for
now. Long.
“Then you will stay,” he said. – This is your home, Hai lie.
You can stay here as long as you want. No one will ever kick you out of here. You have
my word on that.
In Vincent's strong arms, with my head filled with his assurances, I slowly
began to calm down. I didn't plan on falling apart like that, but I ended up feeling
a little better.
– Can you take me out of school? – I asked when I regained my speech. I
was sniffling slightly and there was no way I was going to let him go just yet.
– Wouldn't you rather wait? – he replied with a question. - Maybe

Will you change your mind yet?
He tucked my hair behind my ear. I lived for the gentleness with which he
treated me now.
“If I wait, I'll definitely change my mind,” I muttered. –
And I don't want to change my mind, Vince.
- All right. We can go there tomorrow, after your morning

rehabilitation and therapy.
I nodded, both relieved that it wouldn't take long to sort this out, but also
drowning in regret that I had actually made that decision.
I liked school after all. I felt sad.
– When I get better, will I be able to… fly to France? - I asked
in a thin voice. I urgently searched for comfort.
– When you get better, you'll be able to fly wherever you want.
I shuddered.
– And… – I tried again – and will… will I be able to study abroad in the
future?
Vincent was silent for a moment, his arms around me as if
slightly stiff.
– You'll be able to study, Hailie... wherever you want.
My head shot up. I couldn't believe those words came out of his mouth,
even though I had seen his lips move just now.
- Really? – I whispered.
I felt his thumb wipe a tear from my cheek.
- I want you to be happy. You deserve it. After all this…” Vince trailed off,
his gaze sliding over my stomach. – … you deserve all the happiness this
world has to offer.
My chin started shaking. Vince brushed his fingers against it as he tasted it
lift to meet my eyes.
– I hope that soon I will see that honest, wide face on your face again
the smile we all have such a soft spot for.
If I could, I would have given him that smile right then and there, but it only
made my lips quiver and another wave of tears flow from under my eyelids.
Unexpectedly, Vincent made me feel emotional, sad and even almost happy at the
same time.
– Vince?
– So?
– I would like to see a smile on your face too.

He tried to smile, but it didn't work very well. I shook my head.
– Not like that. This one doesn't reach your eyes. I see it, Vince.
He tilted his head down, I tilted mine up and we watched
at each other, reading each other.
– Everything will be fine, Hailie. Don't worry.
– What will work out? What should I not worry about? – I asked. I had
Enough of such empty messages.
- About me.
“You need some rest, Vince,” I said, my voice going from quiet to firmer and
more determined. – You can't worry so much.
“Now, now, don't get excited,” he admonished me. - I'm fine.

– You're tired.
– There's a lot going on, I told you.
I tightened my fists on his shirt.

– You have support. You have us, I said.
This time he actually smiled slightly and even patted my head.
– I know, Hailie, I know.

Suddenly a thought came to my mind and I felt my face
hardens. I moved away from him slightly to get a better look at him.
– What about Grace? - I asked. – Does she support you too?
I knew there was no engagement, but they definitely talked to each other. I had such a
low opinion of Grace that I believed she was the type of person who would blame Vincent
for a failed party, and if he would just confirm it to me now, I swear I'd be ready to run out
of the bookcase, jump into my Porsche, find this witch and scratch her perfectly smooth
face with your nails.
“Grace is not in my life at the moment,” he finally admitted.

My heart stopped in shock for a moment, and then immediately swelled with a large
dose of hope.
– R-really? Did you break up with her? – I asked, feeling joy rising in my heart for the
first time in a long time. I had a hard time hiding my signs of excitement and Vince looked
at me askance.
- NO.
The elation left me immediately. Anger replaced them and I frowned.
– She broke up with you?!

- It's complicated. We won't talk about my relationships now.
– If neither of you broke up, what happened?
– What about your friend? – Vince asked. – I expected you would want to go back to
school as soon as possible so that you can see him regularly again.
While saying this, he gently stroked my back, probably because he realized that this
was a very sensitive topic for me. I was making progress in therapy and recently even
allowed Leo to hug me when he visited me, but I was so distant and struggling so hard to
keep my negative feelings in check that I couldn't concentrate on the conversation and our
meeting ended. just like all the others lately, i.e. awkward.
– Are you talking about Leo? - I asked.
– Are you dating any other boy? Vince raised an eyebrow.

– No, but actually I barely date Leo either – I noticed

avoiding his gaze.
– I know it's hard for you, Hailie. I talked to your therapist recently.
He says you're making progress.
He seemed to speak in his typical, calm voice, but to me he sounded a bit
desperate. He really wanted me to get better, and it broke my heart so much that
I desperately wanted to get better, at least for him.
“We do,” I confirmed quietly. – But I don't want to talk about it, not yet.
- All right.
“It's weird with Leo… I don't know,” I sighed, then tried again: “I guess it's
weird… especially since Ryder came back…”
Vince remained silent and I looked up.
– Do you even know what's going on with Ryder? – I asked softly, somewhat
fearing the answer.
My brother slowly untangled himself from my embrace and then took a breath
and combed his hair as if he was returning to a difficult reality.
– Since he is a witness in Clarissa's case, he is needed by the Organization
for now.
I narrowed my eyes at the memory of the Organization. Since returning from
the clinic, I had been waiting for Vince to share with me the explanation my father
had promised me. And I thought I was very patient, but now that he mentioned
this still completely enigmatic name for me, I wasn't going to miss my chance.
– What do you need it for?

I saw hesitation in Vince's pale irises. He was seriously considering whether
this was the right time to reveal the family secret to me. When he entered the
library, he certainly hadn't planned it, but now, when our conversation had turned
from his stiff apologies into such a private discussion, he was clearly changing his
mind.
– Maybe we can take a walk? – he suggested, looking at the window, behind which the
white of fluffy snow on the ground merged with the white of fluffy clouds in the sky. – You
should go outside for fresh air every day. That's what the doctor ordered, remember?
I agreed because although I didn't feel like going out into the cold outdoors, I would even
be ready to roll in a snowdrift to talk about the Organization.
We remained silent as we put on our coats and shoes. This time, no one had to force
me to put a hat on my head. I wrapped my shawl around me and clung to Vincent's side as
soon as we stepped outside. I was looking for warmth with him, but I also didn't want to lose
the closeness to him that I felt in the library.
I expected the wind to be stronger, but unexpectedly the weather, although frosty, turned
out to be quite pleasant for a short walk.
I missed the sun, which would gently shimmer the snow, but there was no chance for any
ray to break through the thick clouds. We walked in silence towards the gate, the snow
rustling with each step we took. Once we were outside the mansion, Vince lit a cigar with
his exclusive white gold lighter, making sure the smoke wouldn't blow into my face or settle
in my hair.
“The organization is looking into Clarissa's case,” he said, his voice perfectly matching
the snowy scenery. – Mainly because she attacked us at my engagement party. And apart
from me and my family, other members were also present, which makes it an attack on the
Organization itself. This, in turn, is a very serious crime.
– What is this Organization? – I asked, looking at my feet so as not to trip as we walked

among the trees, and then at Vince, who was staring straight ahead with narrowed eyes,
bringing his cigar to his lips from time to time.
“It still doesn't seem right,” he muttered to himself.

– Hm?
– I don't think I should let you delve into the affairs of the Organization. This seems
inappropriate.
– Vince…
He looked at me.
– I'm trying to protect you, Hailie.
I shook my head slightly.
– What terrible deeds are you committing in this Organization that you are so reluctant
to tell me about them? After all, I've seen a lot myself. I guess a lot. I know you are not
saints there.
– It's not about actions, but about awareness.
I didn't even notice that I was pressing myself even tighter against his side, hypnotized
by our conversation.
– Consciousness of what?
Vincent's eyes seemed to bore into my soul and his mouth barely moved as he replied,
"Power."
83
BEYOND MAFIA
ACCOUNTS
I felt the taste of saliva in my mouth, which I quickly swallowed.
“I already know that you have a lot of power,” I whispered. Even the cops
have your number on speed dial.
– "A lot" is quite an understatement.
“It won't impress me, Vince,” I said dryly. – No, when
this power of yours is insufficient to get your father out of prison.
– My father is in prison not because the system wants it, but because the
Organization wants it.
I frowned.
– Aren't you the head of this whole Organization?
– There is no boss in the Organization.
I fell silent. I waited for him to continue because I had so little information that
I didn't even know what questions to ask. But Vincent really tried to make it as
difficult as he could for me.
“Tell me what it is,” I asked, trying to keep my voice clear

sounded confident.
– The organization, dear Hailie, brings together a handful of the most influential people
in this world.
– Businessmen?
Vince took a drag from his cigar.

- You could say.
– Are they just the richest people? – I pulled his tongue, and at the same time I felt
sick at the thought that my own brother was among such a select group.
“Of course the richest,” he confirmed. – However, you won't find our names in any
rankings.
– Are you saying that all these online lists of the richest people in the world are fake?
– We arrange them ourselves. We, the members, prefer to remain in the shadows from
the public eye. It is safer for the Organization and, therefore, also for us.
I stared at him in disbelief. What he was saying was too abstract for me. He returned
my gaze calmly, although his face became a little darker.
– And what else are you doing there? - I asked. – Do you see presidents or something?
It was supposed to sound casual and maybe a little witty, but Vince didn't laugh.
– We rarely let them in. Only if we need it.

-Vince, are you kidding me?
– I warned you.
– Not before the Organization's definition sounds so absurd!
– Now this is shocking and absurd for you, it's natural. Once these feelings pass, you
will begin to realize the true power of your name. And she may lose you someday.
– What about the boys? How much do they know?
– A little more. However, my father worked hard to raise us all so that we would
not be too disconnected from reality. And yet, even though our Hailie brothers have
good hearts, you know that sometimes they play with the world like rulers and kings.
– Are you afraid that the soda will go to my head because my brother is in a secret
organization?
– I'm afraid you will feel unpunished. This feeling is like a drug. It's sweet and it
tastes like relief and it's easy to get addicted. And as a result, you get used to it,
eventually losing contact with reality.
You have to be very careful.
– Are we really unpunished? – I mumbled.
– The organization is governed by its own laws. Not many, to be sure, but they
should be respected. Violating them may result in problems, but this is the only real
threat. Our father is a good example of what happens when she gives in.
– You couldn't defend him?

– Father wanted to belong to the Organization and at the same time... clear his
conscience and conduct only legal business. Vince shook his head slightly. –
Unfortunately, it's not fair to the rest of the members.
So he messed up, eventually faking his own death, and then, when he got tired of running
away, and take my word for it, dear Hailie, that hiding from the Organization is a difficult
task, he agreed to go to prison to pay for his mess and dishonesty towards to the rest. You
must not make fools of the members of the Organization. These are serious people who
don't like to be cheated.
– Will they finally let him go? Will he come back to us? - I asked.
– He certainly won't return to the Organization, although that doesn't matter
because I took his place as soon as he left. As for his punishment, I think there is little
chance the Organization will ever agree to his release.
He upset a lot of people. He knew what he was doing. Now he must atone for it.
I lowered my head and looked at the snow-covered toes of my shoes.
I felt sorry that a group of important people didn't like my dad and because of them he didn't like me
he must remain behind bars.
“Father is in hot water,” Vince continued, as if he sensed my rebellion. – I

know that in your eyes, Hailie, his image is idealized, and that's good, because
he really loves you, but it may make you miss his flaws. And he, like every other
person, also has them. And he is not infallible. Don't ever believe otherwise.
“For me, you and Dad are both infallible,” I admitted.

Vince smiled slightly, exhaling smoke and looking straight ahead.
We walked in silence for a while. I tried to organize the new information in
my head. I almost tripped over a rock once, but I kept my arms around Vince's
shoulder and didn't fall.
– Maya and Adrien's fathers are also members of the Organization, right? –
I asked at one point.
My brother nodded.
– There are a maximum of five on each continent.
– In Antarctica too? - I was surprised.
– No, not there, dear Hailie. On every continent except Antarctica. – With a
small smile he commented on my nature as a perfect student.
– How come you, Adrien and Charles all live in Pennsylvania?
– On each continent there is a designated neutral territory where the

members of the Organization have their permanent place of residence. In North
America, that place is Pennsylvania in the United States.
– So here in the States you all have to live in Pennsylvania?

– This makes the most sense, because the territory of this state formally
belongs to all of us.
– What about the rest of the continent?
Vince simply shrugged and put the cigar to his lips.

– It is to be divided.
I grimaced.
“Paranoia,” I commented, looking up at my brother and trying to detect some
change in him. I always thought of him as someone important, maybe I didn't
necessarily expect him to be in control of world-wide matters, but he was already a
great authority for me and now my impression only deepened.
- Charles Geras, Ricardo Sanchez, Adrien Santan and Rodric Retter.

Remember these names, he said, his voice hoarse. Maybe from the cold, maybe
from the cigar. Or maybe the importance of the topic we touched on. – It's best to
keep your distance from these people. Or pretend you don't know anything about
their affiliation with the Organization, as you do so far.
– Why should I pretend?
– Because sometimes, Hailie, it's better not to know. Vince looked at me. – Your
ignorance was, in a sense, your weapon. But you're growing up.
And maybe your father was right that it's time for you to understand the importance of your family.
– I don't think I still understand.

– Stay away from the people whose names I just mentioned. If you must contact
them, treat them with respect and leave at the first opportunity. Never touch them…
- What? – I raised an eyebrow.
– It's an old rule. It was originally introduced so that members of the Organization
could protect themselves and their families from misunderstandings, such as
confidential gestures that could be misunderstood.
It is deliberately assumed to be taken literally. No one from the Organization has
the right to touch you because you are my sister.
– But you, for example, touched… Grace, right? – I bit my lip because it sounded
stupid.
Vince glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
– Having previously received permission from the head of her family, then
member of the Organization, Egbert. Now Adrien is in his place. Just as I took our
father's place.
“Adrien touched me,” I blurted out.
- When? Vince frowned.

- At the party. When he saw that the sniper was aiming at me.
- Ah yes. Well, it was a unique situation. We won't do anything to him
problems due to this.
I nodded. I kept silent about the fact that I had once touched Adrien. When I
begged him in Vince's office not to betray my father. It's nice that he didn't start a
drama because of it. True, he had been rude in another way, and I still remembered
that, so I wasn't going to dwell on his kindness.
Although I had to admit that he also took well to that strange moment when I
threw a knife at him.
Apparently, luckily for me, he's not overly sensitive.
We walked in silence again for a moment. I looked at my shoes.
– You know, Vince, I thought you were the mafia.
He laughed quietly.
– Mafia has associations that are too vulgar or too lofty, depending on whether
someone has watched the new films or the old ones – he said. – It in no way
translates into what the Organization is, which is a much more exclusive and
unique group.
– But you're doing illegal things.
– In the light of generally recognized law, yes.
- What?
Vince snorted and rolled his eyes.

- Almost everything.
- All? – I gasped. - Really? All? What about killing
kids? Or human trafficking?
“By the Lord, Hailie,” Vince hissed sharply, frowning at me and shaking his
head. – Of course we don't do things like that. We are civilized people.
– So what, you only kill adults? – I swallowed bitter saliva. – Well then, it's easy.
“Did Tony teach you that dirty sarcasm?” I'll have to talk to him.
“Don't start treating me like a child again,” I warned. – And don't change the subject.
I know you have a lot on your mind. There are guns lying around the house, there is
even a shooting range.
– Generally, few people have the nerve to actually attack anyone in the Organization,
although your experience may suggest otherwise. However, if it occurs to someone,
and many people certainly dream of breaking the Organization or breaking into it, it is
good to be able to defend yourself. And to have something. Usually, however, we don't
engage in idiotic squabbles and mindless shooting games.
– If you are so above ordinary mafia settlers, what are you doing? – I raised an
eyebrow. Treating the Organization with a pinch of salt, and even making fun of it,
certainly allowed me to become more familiar with the awareness of its existence.
– Meetings are arranged once a quarter. And believe me, Hailie, there's never a
shortage of things to figure out.
– That sounds like boring.
– It's very good that you think so. – Vince raised the cigar to his lips.
– What do you decide, give me examples. Please, I pressed, hanging on his arm
and glancing between his feet and his focused face.
He sighed.
– Okay, an example is discussing what's happening on social media. Have you
ever wondered why some of them are so popular?
“No,” I replied honestly.

– The more people create accounts there, the larger the database we have and, at
the same time, the greater our reach. If necessary, manipulating public opinion is very
simple.
– What's that for?
– There is rarely such a need, but it happens. When a scandal breaks out.
Sometimes it's enough to cover it with another scandal. Sometimes it's worth changing
people's perceptions of certain things. Or when there is a new business or

product that needs to be brought to market for someone's benefit.
Usually ours.
– Change perception? – I stared at Vincent with fascination and slight
concern.
– If we wanted to, Hailie, with the power of all the media channels under
our control, we could convince people that water is poison or that breathing
oxygen will kill them. “Vince stared hard ahead and tasted the cigar smoke
again. – They would believe it.
I felt chills.
– Do you do this often?
- NO. These are huge projects. Some last months, others years.
They require a lot of commitment and basics for implementation.
– It sounds like a movie.
– This is reality. Tell me, dear child, how many times have you thoughtlessly
accepted cookies on a website you visited?
I was silent.
Vince glanced at me, but then shook his head and continued: - Fortunately,
you don't have to worry about protecting your data, because I will take care
of it, but hundreds of millions of people every day are deprived of their privacy
and information about themselves, and the Organization it takes advantage of
it and grows stronger. – Vince smiled grimly, with a twinkle in his bright iris. –
As if she wasn't already powerful enough.
I absorbed all this information, feeling like I was becoming smaller compared
to what the Organization does and how many things I was unaware of and still
don't realize.
– What I'm telling you now, Hailie, is a secret you will now have to keep.
This is not a topic for chatting with friends. I believe this is obvious and I don't
need to emphasize it, but I wouldn't want to leave any doubt about it.
I nodded stiffly.
– And I ask you to remember that you still function in this world, so you should
follow its rules. “Vince suddenly stopped and grabbed my chin, his gaze becoming
piercing. – You're not indestructible, Hailie. Get these words into your head. And if
you start to believe otherwise, come down to earth immediately.
I nodded excitedly and he resumed his walk, though his jaw was set and I was
almost certain that part of him regretted that he had just revealed a fraction of the
truth about the Organization to me.
I was immersed in my own thoughts and struggling with my demons. One of
them bothered me so much that, afraid that something bad had started happening
to me some time ago, I gained the courage to confess to Vince right away.
“I've already done something bad,” I whispered.

He immediately looked at me sternly.
“Tell me,” he demanded. – Always tell me.
Then I described Winter's situation to him and admitted that I had spoken out to
Ruby on purpose. It was very important for me to highlight my motives. I wasn't
going to lie to myself or Vince that I did it out of concern for Leo's close friend. I
wanted to make it clear that deep down I wanted to get her out of my boyfriend's
apartment and maybe rub her nose in the face as well? I blushed with embarrassment
when I talked about it.
“I wish I could undo this somehow,” I muttered. – Can something be done about
this?
Of course, this question was supposed to be worded differently. Something like "Can you
do something about this and save me from endless regrets?"
Vince was smart, so he understood. He didn't look thrilled, but just sighed quietly.
– In fact, your motives were not praiseworthy, so it is worth working on such

behaviors – he emphasized. – However, from what I hear, your friend should
definitely qualify
the foundation's aid program, regardless of whether it likes it or not. She is still a
minor.
– She doesn't want help. Not like that. She would like to live with Leo. He gets
along with his mother, she supports her very much. Leo said there was an idea for
Gina to become her legal guardian, but she probably wouldn't meet all the
requirements. Do you think it would be possible to... something...
Vincent looked at me for a moment, then nodded.
“I think so,” he replied briefly. He still sounded dispassionate, but the meaning of
his words mattered more to me than the tone in which they were said.
– And… – I hesitated –…do you think Leo will hate me?

Vincent seemed to be going to skip talking about my love life, but when he
glanced at me and saw me falling apart, he sighed, took his free hand out of his
pocket, and wrapped it around me, hugging me to him.
“Vince, I'm afraid he's going to break up with me,” I cried.

It's unbelievable that I confided in my oldest brother.
About two years ago, I was getting mad at him for even mentioning meeting my
boyfriend, and now I was sobbing into his coat as I told him about my fears about
ending the relationship.
Vincent wouldn't be himself if it weren't for my teenage problems
he rolled his eyes, but also hugged me tightly and whispered:
– I don't know what decision he will make, Hailie, but personally I don't think this
is a good reason to break up. If he does, it means he absolutely doesn't deserve
you.
We stopped, which I forced myself to do, because it was hard for me to
concentrate on taking steps when I was bursting into tears, which quite unexpectedly
attacked me with such force.
– Vince, what if he doesn't break up, what if I have to do it then?
I think I confused him.

– Hailie?
- I don't know…
My head was such a mess! I couldn't clean it up, so what I said didn't make
sense. Vincent consoled me, increasingly dissatisfied with the fact that I was
tormenting and tormenting myself so much, and all this because of some boy who,
in his eyes, was not even worthy of me.
And I just needed to cry. In the hospital and around the boys, I tried to keep my
emotions in check. I didn't want to bother the twins with tears, Dylan was already
going through a lot with me, and I would break Will's heart with every sob. I wanted
to spare Vincent too, I really did, but at some point, at that moment, I lost control.
My moment of exuberance was ended by his phone, which suddenly, in the

silence of the forest, started ringing.
84
LOVE IS A GOOD REASON
My brother reached for himself with an extremely violent movement

to the camera and glanced at the screen, one hand, extremely tense now,
still hugging me. When he saw who the call was coming from, he immediately
relaxed, but I stared at him suspiciously.
He murmured into the phone that he would take care of something within two hours,
and then he hung up and put the phone back in his pocket.
Tears were still flowing from my eyes, but I ignored them for the moment.
I looked at him with sharp eyes.
Vincent seemed to know that I found his sudden gesture so unlike him
and so suspicious that I was now waiting for an explanation, so he
deliberately avoided looking at me, hoping that I would let it go.
– Are you waiting for a call? – I finally asked.
– I'm waiting for many calls.
I saw pain and concern in his eyes that I wasn't used to. Not in his cool
blue irises, which over the months have become the definition of stability
and certainty for me. It was like confirming my fears.
Until now, I might have thought that the dark circles under his eyes, his
unhealthy pallor, and even his recent whiskey incident were caused by his
worry about me and the engagement, but now, as I saw him rushing to the
phone, I realized there was something else.
Vincent had some other big problem and it absolutely terrified me.
Is it something to do with the Organization? Or maybe with your father? Was he sick?
I started sobbing again, unable to contain all these worries and annoyances
in my head. Why can't we be a normal family? I would give all this power and
money to sit in the living room with my five brothers, order a pizza and watch
a bad movie, laughing blithely at its idiotic plot.
And then I looked around. I admit, I did it consciously for the first time
since we left the house and out the gate. And I realized that we were walking
in a snow-covered forest.
My bodyguard lost his life in a similar way.
I stiffened so much that it felt like my heart was slowly stopping pumping
blood. I was starting to choke and I knew I was in for another panic attack. I
could barely hear Vince calling my name.
“Listen to my voice, Hailie, take breaths,” he said to me in a strong voice.
I tried to follow his instructions, but it was incredibly difficult.
– Deep breaths, Hailie. Deep.

I was choking, but it didn't help. I hated this feeling, this lack of control.
The therapist advised that in such situations, try to calm down, listen to your
body, and try to relax. What idiotic advice on how to relax when Vincent and I
were standing here in the woods, at the mercy of a sniper! What if Vince gets
and…
I imagined him falling to the snow-covered ground, a stain of blood growing
on his white shirt. I was able to recreate this image in my head without any
problem, because I had already experienced a painfully similar sight.
I don't know how much progress I was making in my breathing, but after
imagining that scene, it all went to waste as my lungs closed again.
– Hailie! Look at me, do you hear me? You have to listen to me, Hailie, right now.
His hand tightened around mine.

I was half listening and half not, but when I opened my eyes at some point,
I realized that we were no longer standing. I sat in the cold snow as Vince
crouched next to me, still pressing me against his side. He also grabbed my
hand and pressed it to his chest, where his heart was beating steadily.
I wanted to say something, but my lips were trembling and I couldn't because of the
tightness in my throat.
– Hailie, oddech…
Vincent didn't know what to do, but does anyone know what to do in a
situation like this? Anyone who isn't a paramedic with a syringe of sedation?
– Hailie…
Every breath hurt, so I didn't want to breathe.
– I'm going to have a baby.
I choked.
A sharp pain pierced my heart and a point in my head. Suddenly I felt
that hot stream of tears on my cheeks and the pain in my stomach, lungs and throat.
But I finally managed to focus on something other than panic.
– W-what? – I wheezed.
I looked up at my face, which was tense and as white as snow around me
Vincent crouching next to me.
– What did you say, Vince?
I clenched my fingers, which were still touching the place where his heart
was beating at an accelerated pace under the fabric of his shirt and his skin.
“Probably,” he added.
His eyes were strange, a mixture of emotions seemed to be raging in them, but his
voice sounded rough.
– Vince…
I coughed again, and then, accompanied by his brief and specific instructions on my
breathing, I began to come back to reality. I felt the cold coming from the ground and the
pain in my lungs, strained by the effort.
Slowly, when the time came, Vince helped me to my feet. My legs felt like jelly and the
snow soaked my pants and coat.
I relied on his support, trying to obey his orders politely, without looking at the forest around
us anymore. Instead, I stared at my brother's face, and at first he was good at avoiding it.
He helped me clear myself up and finally looked me in the eye.
He brushed the hair from my face and wiped it with a piece of my scarf, shaking his head
slowly.
I let him do all this, patiently waiting for him to pick up the thread.
I knew he didn't want to do it. He wouldn't have told me anything if he hadn't been terrified
of my condition.
But I waited.
Once he was sure the worst was over, he put his arm around me and started
pull towards where we came from.
I denied it. Then he smacked his lips in irritation.
“We're going back,” he ordered sharply.
-Vince? – I mumbled innocently, looking up at him with still teary eyes.
He sighed heavily.
– I'll tell you when you move.
I started walking immediately. It was quite difficult for me because I was a bit blind
on his feet, but it was enough for my brother.
He started telling me things I didn't believe I would ever hear from him.
– One of the reasons I allowed myself to be… distracted last night is because the
woman I had been dating shortly before I decided to get engaged to Grace informed me
that she was pregnant.
– Oh my Lord! – I exclaimed, and my strained throat throbbed painfully. I covered my
mouth with my hand, but quickly pulled it away. - Pregnant! With you?!
– Hush, Hailie, don't shout. – Vince looked around the empty forest. – Probably yes,
with me.
- Probably?
He pursed his lips. I guess he didn't expect me to talk about it
he was talking, and it must have seemed extremely out of place to him.
– We weren't in a long relationship. But I don't think she has the nerve to do so
lie to me. She's not a stupid girl.
“And she's pregnant with your child…” I whispered to myself, crumpling his coat in my
fingers, which I was still clinging to.
– Of course I will want a paternity test to confirm this.
I raised my eyebrows.
– What you said just now made it sound like you trusted her.
– I trust it, but this is too serious a matter for me to take anyone's word for it.
– Oh God, Vince, it's wonderful, it's… – I stopped speaking, swallowed hard, and
suddenly I burst into tears again today.
Partly from such unexpected joy, and partly from pain. – It's so wonderful!
He remained silent and just stared ahead with an unreadable expression on his face.
- How is she like? This woman? Is she nicer than Grace? – I asked, wiping my cheeks
with the back of one hand. – Oh, it definitely is. Everyone is nicer and better than Grace.
He still didn't speak. Only our footsteps could be heard.

– And there will be a baby! "I called out, a little too loudly again. – God, there's going
to be a baby…
Vince grimaced, then held up a hand, no doubt to curb my enthusiasm.
– It's unknown.
– You said she was pregnant and that you believed it was with you.
– We don't know what he will decide.
The slight smile that had so unexpectedly managed to illuminate my face
for a moment today began to fade.
- What do you mean?
I don't think he's ever spoken to me with such difficulty.
“I gave her an ultimatum,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. – Because
in this situation I only foresee three options.
I felt my body stiffen.
-Vince, what's the ultimatum? – I asked carefully, afraid of what I might hear.
“The situation is complicated,” he said, giving me a quick look

look. – We broke up, we didn't plan to get back together.
– What ultimatum?
“My child,” Vince began, and I couldn't believe how abstract these words
sounded in his mouth, “will live and be raised under my roof. And in this field I
leave no room for discussion or compromise.
I nodded while biting my lip.

– What about his mom?
– He can live with us or just visit us. It can also disappear right after birth if
it prefers.
He spoke with such cold determination that I was sure he had already
thought it all through.
– So you will agree to get involved with her again?
– If that's what she wants, yes, I'm ready to create a relationship with her.
– Okay, and if not, will you let her go or only see the child occasionally?
Vince nodded stiffly.

– Does that count as two options? So what is the third one?
He answered only after a while, in an extremely colorless tone: - I'm not going
to force her to carry this pregnancy to term and give birth to a child.
I lowered my head. I understood all too well what that meant and I felt sad.
The silence spread between us again, this time a little thicker

and definitely more grim. My momentary joy was suppressed.
– Do you already know which option he's leaning towards? – I asked hopefully.
- NO.
– So the decision is entirely hers now?

– There you go.
– What would you like? – I tilted my head.

– It doesn't matter, because if…
– Which of the three options you presented to her appeals to you the most? – I
repeated the question, unceremoniously interrupting his words and challenging him with
a sharp look to pay attention to me.
He didn't return it.
Instead, he looked at me for a moment and then replied, "It would be good if
my child's mother lived under the same roof as him."
– So you would like to go out with her.

Vince, rather reluctant to be dragged, finally nodded.
– Have you told her that?
- NO. I'm waiting for her to make her own decision.
“I think if she knew what you just told me, she might
be easier for her to take.
“I'm not going to manipulate her choices,” he said firmly. – This decision will affect
her entire life, and if she chooses to spend it with me, it will involve many sacrifices. I
won't convince her to live with me and then watch her ideas brutally collide with reality.
– But maybe it's enough for you to make her realize that if anything happens,
even if it gets hard, she will have your support.
– I already told her she would have them. No matter what he chooses. I am
ready to support her mentally and, of course, materially - I will pay for her the best
health care.
– So the only scenario you don't agree to is the one in which
the child stays in her care?
“My child will grow up under my roof,” he repeated
Vincent emphatically. – I will not make the same mistake as our father.
I looked down.
– When will you know what she decided? – I asked in a whisper.
– The most important decision is whether or not she will have an abortion. Time is running out,
and the fetus develops. I expect to hear from her within a few days.
– God, Vince, is that why you're so stressed? – I sighed
sadness and understanding, remembering how he rushed to the phone.
– First of all, I'm stressed because my sister went through hell. But, as I said,
there's a lot going on.
I rested my temple against his side and sighed heavily.
- You love her?
He was silent for so long that I didn't expect him to answer me.
- Maybe.
– Then why did you get engaged to Grace?

– Because Grace fits into this world and Anja doesn't.
I smiled slightly at the sound of her name on his lips.
It sounded… nice. And nice.
That bitch Grace's name sounded better than ever in them.

“Women are stronger than you think, Vince,” I said firmly.
– I know it perfectly well. But I had no good reason to condemn a girl who led a
relatively normal existence to live in such extreme conditions.
I shrugged.
– I don't know, Vince, love is a good reason for me.

He did not answer.
On the way back, every time my next breath hurt or my lungs or heart
burned, I imagined that a small child was running around the Monet Residence,
looking at the world through innocent, pale blue eyes.
For the first time in a long time, the corners of my mouth lifted without any
coercion.
85
WALL
Vincent was really ready to go with me the very next day

school to take my papers. Even though I wanted to get it over with as
quickly as possible, I asked him for one day's delay.
I needed to sort out a few things in my head. In addition to visiting the
principal's office, I also planned to talk to several people and I had to
prepare for these conversations.
Plus, Will agreed to take me to Sonny's grave again.
And because of my mandatory rehabilitation, therapy and massages, I wouldn't be
able to go to the cemetery and school on the same day.
This time the cemetery was not empty. So we immediately noticed
two figures in the distance. One was slender and dressed in a black
jacket with fur, jeans and high boots, white as the snow lying around.
The second figure reached the first one's waist. It was a child, wearing a
bright purple jumpsuit and a pink hat with a pompom.
Halfway there I felt numb, and not from the cold. I took steps as if in a trance and it
became increasingly difficult for me to breathe. I didn't take my eyes off the woman and
child who were standing, of course, over my bodyguard's grave.
Will's hand wrapped around me protectively, as if he wanted to comfort me and

protect me at the same time. I was sure that in his head he was cursing this coincidence
that was happening to us. He even slowed down a bit.
As we got closer, the rustle of our footsteps caught the attention of Cali and little Lea.
I knew it was them from the beginning, but when the little girl turned around and I saw
the resemblance to Sonny in her cute face, I felt my throat tighten.
“Mom,” she whispered, tugging at the woman's sleeve.

Cali looked at us and recognized me immediately. I saw her forehead wrinkle, the
muscles around her mouth tense, and the fire of obvious reluctance awaken in her eyes,
framed by long false eyelashes.
The look in those eyes bore into me until I shrunk into myself.
Cali took a step towards me, away from the gravestone of her former partner and the
father of her child. I saw bravery in her attitude, such readiness for an aggressive fight.
Her nose was red, either from crying or the cold - or maybe both. She must have been
crying because her makeup was a little blurry.
She looked at me as if I were her greatest enemy, and the sight of her and little Lea
in the cemetery crushed my heart so much that I was ready to accept from her the
greatest reproaches, the worst words and insults that she could come up with. I wanted
her to hit me. I even turned my cheek to her.
But Cali wasn't going to hit me. She might have wanted to do it, but Will's presence
restrained her because he would never allow anyone to raise a hand against me around
him. However, I had the strange feeling that the urge to drag me down disappeared
when she saw my compliance.
She probably didn't enjoy kicking someone lying down, so apart from an unpleasant,
very telling moment when she glared at me with hatred, there was no other interaction
between us.
Cali held out her hand and little Lea immediately hugged it.
They passed me and Will, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the little girl staring at
me, confused. She must have recognized me and was probably wondering how it was
possible that the first time she had a father, I was so nice and cheerful to her, and now I
had turned into a gloomy one.
a girl who can't even return her gaze, let alone smile.
Well, she lost her father because of me. I will never get rid of this burden for the rest
of my life.
The emotions on my face motivated Will to wrap me in a tight hug. I buried
my face in his coat and burst into tears.
I ruined that girl's life.

This time I devoted all my time at Sonny's grave to
reciting an apology in your head.
I know I was breaking Will's heart. This made me feel even worse.
I was stuck in a vicious circle and I couldn't get out of it.
The only thing that could give me a ray of hope for future happiness was
the news about Anja's pregnancy, which I was eagerly awaiting. Every time I
saw Vincent, I stared at him anxiously, waiting for any information. But he
avoided my gaze most of the time.
He also experienced this unknown. Vince may have been cold as ice, but I
knew him well enough to know he wasn't indifferent to the situation.
The next morning, as I was finishing breakfast and he walked into the
kitchen, I looked up at him, hoping that he would finally give me the news I
had been longing for. Although the Monets are not religious, I prayed in my
mind that Anja would decide to carry the pregnancy to term.
That's all I wanted. That's all I was waiting for.
As far as I could tell, Vincent was waiting for this too.
Today, unfortunately, as usual, he shook his head without saying a word.
This meant there were no new messages.
I looked down at the bowl of cereal in front of me and returned to it
mindlessly stirring it with a spoon.
I moved the rehabilitation and massages to a very early morning today so
that they could take place before the therapy and I could go to school before
noon. I wanted to have a session right before mine
showing up at the academy because I had a few conversations planned and I

wanted to have peace of mind.
As I sat in Vincent's black, sleek and luxurious car, I realized that this was the first time in
my career as a student that my oldest brother had driven me to school. The first and also the
last.
The only thing missing was Sonny's SUV faithfully following us.
I didn't wear a uniform, but I dressed very elegantly. I put on a loose, short,
very pleasant to the touch cream sweater over a white shirt, and I chose a
regular, tight, mid-thigh black skirt. I bought it quite recently along with many
other clothes. It was one of my new ways to kill time and sadness: buying
things. It's not very ecological or economical, but I found great pleasure in it.
The mentioned skirt is a breakthrough in my wardrobe. I don't used to wear

clothes like that. I remembered that my brothers were still allergic to anything
short and tight in my wardrobe. However, I noticed that their purchases were
less and less controlled and I definitely took advantage of it.
I wore thin black tights with the skirt and very high, knee-high boots that
stuck to my legs like a second skin.
I made a mental note of the moment when Vincent gave me a long look,
probably mentally debating whether to rush me back upstairs and tell me to
change right now.
But he remained silent. Especially when I put a long coat over my shoulders
and tied a scarf around me. I thought he had given up, because in the light of
so many important things that were happening at the moment and engaging
our attention, my clothes seemed to be the least of my problems.
Vincent was wearing one of his expensive suits, a long black coat, and if, in
your opinion, his wardrobe alone did not reflect his elegance, you could always
look at his discreetly shiny watch or signet ring.
My goal was not to make senseless pimps to make a show at school. The
fact that Vincent and I looked like stars together
movies, it seemed to me as natural as the seasons, the functioning of the respiratory

system or, I don't know, the process of photosynthesis.
We arrived at the academy building before lunch break.
We stopped at the Monet parking lot and weren't even surprised that it was
free.
I realized that this was what I expected, this was how it was supposed to be. It
was supposed to be waiting here for me, because no one ever knew what day Hailie
Monet would show up at school.
I took a breath in the cold outside and exposed my pale face to the sun.
Vince locked the car, the keys rattling in his hand.
He stood in front of the stairs leading to the school to let me go ahead.
We walked down an empty corridor, greeting the lady from the concierge,
who blinked when she saw us and almost spilled the tea she was holding
to her mouth. We passed her and pretended we didn't notice. I held my
chin up and knew that Vince, walking next to me, was doing the same.
The director was already waiting for us in front of the office. She was a
mature lady with a neat bun and a neat costume. Just at the sight of us, her
dark lipstick-covered lips began to quiver in a nervous smile. She reached
out to my brother and then to me.
Maybe it was because of my decision to leave school that I no longer felt like I belonged
there, but it was nevertheless interesting that when I looked at the headmistress of the
academy, I didn't think of her as an authority. I treated her as an equal, as someone with
whom I could cooperate, and she allowed me to treat her this way without hesitation.
She didn't try to intimidate me, bring me down, or treat me patronizingly.

She accepted the fact that she was no longer dealing with her ward, but
with a member of a respected family who donated a lot of money to the
facility she ran every month.
“I really regret that our school is losing such talent,” she said as soon as
the door to her office closed behind us. – Please, I want you to know that
Miss Monet will always be welcome at our academy.
I nodded, accepting her kindness.

Vincent handed her a leather briefcase, and she took it without hesitation
take a look at his signet ring.
Everyone was always looking at him. And everyone thought their look was discreet.
There was no.
The director looked over the documentation. Did she know that my brother was in
the Organization? And even if she did, did she know what this Organization was? Or
maybe she just knew, like me until recently, that the Monet family was in possession
of enormous power and that knowledge was enough for her to show Vincent infinite
respect?
The woman took a few breaths as her eyes ran over the written pages. She
checked that everything was correct in the application and, seemingly disappointed,
she finally nodded.
“Our family owes a lot to the academy,” Vincent said. – For this reason, it will
continue to support your facility until further notice.
We all knew what kind of support Vincent was talking about. Corners of the mouth
the directors trembled slightly.
– Mr. Monet, your decision means a lot both for the school and for our students –
she said, putting her hand to her chest.
Then she looked at me. – Hailie, we will really miss you. I wish you luck. You are an
incredibly talented young woman and I believe great things await you.
I smiled politely, but my heart skipped a beat at her words.

I experienced all this as if some very important era was ending for me, and this was
not what I expected. I hoped that withdrawing from school would not affect me
emotionally - too many other things had already left their mark on my psyche, I didn't
need any more intense experiences.
Meanwhile, when I left the principal's office, I did not feel the freedom and breath
of freshness that I had dreamed of. Instead, I was greeted by dozens of curious pairs
of eyes – we were on break.
The school corridors, now that they were crowded, made me emotional. I was
never to rush through here again to get to class or find Mona or Leo. I was never
to grimace again at a toilet left in an unsightly condition or sit on a wide window
sill with a book in my hand.
People were burning holes in me and Vincent with their stares.

Or at least they tried, but we both were made of fireproof material today because we were
walking hand in hand without either of us reciprocating.
I met Leo and Mona near the cafeteria. Lavinia was here, too, and the rest of
the small group of people I'd had lunch with recently.
Everyone looked at me carefully and distantly, immediately noticing the change
that had occurred in me. It wasn't just about my demeanor, my behavior or
Vincent's presence by my side. The first thing that drew a thick line between us
was my clothes.
I walked up to Mona, who smiled shyly at me.
“You look good,” she said.
“Thanks,” I replied, and the corners of my mouth turned up slightly.
However, I quickly became serious. – I won't come back here again.
Mona glanced over my shoulder at Vincent, who was waiting a little ways
away. She probably just met his gaze, because she quickly looked away from
him, as if she was embarrassed.
“It was my decision,” I added. – I missed school more than I went to it.
– True, but I liked knowing that you could always show up.
Mona lowered her eyes. - I will miss you.
– We will still see each other. Outside of school.
She nodded, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. It won't be the same
anymore.
– Who will motivate me to study now? – she asked and laughed,
to mask the fact that her eyes were watering.
– I will write to you and check on you – I promised.
– What if I block your number?

“You'd better not do that,” I warned her in an ominous tone. – If I will
If she had to come to you, you'll be screwed.
I made her laugh again and seeing her eyes shining with emotion, I opened my
arms and hugged her to me. She was really okay.
It's my fault that my life is so messed up that we couldn't be friends in a normal high
school way. On average, once every few months I had a problem such that someone
wanted to take my life - friends our age should only talk about love failures.
Of course, there was no shortage of such things in my life. When

I released Mona from my arms and it was time to head towards Leo.
It was even harder for me to bear his gaze. His
his honey eyes became gloomy, as if he already knew what was coming.
I asked him to step aside with me - out of respect for our privacy, I preferred to do
it away from the others. He followed me, looking a bit like he was in a trance. I was
there too.
But I knew I had to be strong. I raised my head and looked confidently into his face,
wanting to show him that I wasn't playing with his feelings at all. I wanted to show that
what I was going to tell him now was not a decision made in a hurry and under the
influence of emotions. I wanted him to know that he was too important to me to treat
him this way.
“Leo,” I started with a heavy heart, but for a moment I couldn't say anything else.
“It's good to see you're feeling better,” he said quietly, and his voice may have
wavered slightly.
“It's much better,” I confirmed, giving him a short smile, but I quickly stopped being
happy because the information I had to tell him wasn't happy. – Leo, I have to tell you
something, I have to do something.
– You want to break up with me, right?

I fought with myself to keep my eyes open. He didn't deserve this.
– There you go.
He took a breath and hung his head himself.
– I kind of expected this… I… We… Things have been weird lately.

“It was,” I confirmed. – It's my fault, Leo. There are a few things I need to
deal with. I need to sort them out to be able to function normally. If I don't do
this, I will never be able to have a healthy relationship. And until I do that, I
shouldn't be in one.
I was aware that it sounded like I was quoting my therapist, but I had gone
through this topic very carefully in my head, so I spoke fluently, without
stuttering or stuttering, even though I was distracted by Leo's beautiful eyes.
“I…” he started, but had to clear his throat. – I always thought that the fact that my
girlfriend was Hailie Monet was too good to be possible.
I tilted my head.
– Leo, don't say that…
– I hope, Hailie, that whatever you need to sort out, you manage to do it
quickly. You deserve, as you said, to function normally.
– Maybe one day… when that happens… we'll be more… I'll be more, I
don't know, ready…
– We'll see, after all, life surprises you, right? – Leo winked at me, but I
could tell he was trying to smile and be happy. I saw very clearly how I had
just hurt him.
I made sure that no muscles in my face twitched.
If I allowed myself to get emotional, in an instant I would turn into a crying,
shaking mess that others would have to scrape off the school carpet.
– One more thing, Leo. – I took a breath. – I was the one who complained to social
services about Winter's situation.
I told myself to hold his gaze, however disappointed or scandalized it might
be. But not much had changed - it still seemed just as bleak.
“I thought so,” he finally admitted. – No one said it out loud, but it was
obvious when the Monet Foundation took up the matter.
- Yeah. – I bit my lip. “I did it at Vincent's engagement party, right before…

that commotion.” I only recently remembered this. I promise to try to undo
it. I will help Winter, this time the way she wants.
Leo stared at me and then said, "You're good, Hailie."
Don't cry, don't cry, I told myself. I played the tough girl because I didn't
want the academy to remember me as desperate. I wanted to leave a better
memory. A strong girl, Hailie Monet, who made her own decision to
withdraw from school.
Not little Hailie, known only as the sister of the Monet brothers, the hoot,
terrified and constantly roaring.
“Thank you,” Leo whispered and approached me slowly, and, practicing
therapy exercises, I discreetly took a deep breath, closed my eyes and
allowed him to hug me.
I could feel his uniform jacket under my fingertips and his muscles
beneath it. I remembered our close-ups - beautiful and a bit embarrassing,
if we remember our first time. It was extraordinary that we shared such
intimate moments and that they were written in the pages of our shared
book that no one else had access to. My relationship with Leo is a part of
me and my person, I owed him so much. I remembered how much
happiness our moments together gave me.
And then I felt his hand on my shoulder and a snapshot of the chamber
in the villa of that woman, Clarissa, flashed before my eyes. Her painted
lips, to which she held a cup of tea, and her eyes, with which she watched
the big man deal with my dress. That filthy paw of his that was holding me
weighed on me then, just like Leo's hand does now...
I wanted to flinch, but I held it back.
In therapy, I learned to unload this memory from emotions, yes

to react indifferently in such situations.
I was making progress, but I hadn't mastered the skill yet, so I let go of
Leo and moved away from him as quickly as possible, trying to mask my
suddenness with boldness.
Vincent was watching me intently, I could feel it, so I didn't return his gaze
even when I retreated to him.
He stood there, straight and proud, ignoring the gaggle of kids around him in the hallway
who were glancing at him with a mixture of fear, admiration, and fascination.
As I said my last goodbyes to a group of friends, I felt my otherness
perfectly. I knew I wouldn't eat lunch again in the cafeteria where they would
soon disappear. I won't hide the books in the locker, the rows of which I
passed in the corridor, and the bells will no longer herald lessons and breaks
for me. The
realization of these changes was very stunning to me. I wasn't sure how
to deal with her yet, so I just held my head up, focused on taking confident
steps and keeping a steady face. Vincent, who was one of the masters of
self-control, gave me the strength to do this, and the aura of cool authority
radiating from him also flooded me.
I wanted to leave the walls of this school as quickly as possible, but I was in no hurry
and walked slowly, trying to imitate the grace of Monets, which was in my blood.
Outside, I shivered from the cold. I moved slowly so as not to slip on the
stairs, although if I did, Vince was walking right next to me and I'm sure he
would have caught me. He even put his hand on my back as we approached
the car and opened the passenger door for me.
- Everything's all right? – he asked quietly.

– They're staring at us, aren't they? – I whispered back.
- Of course.
I didn't give them the satisfaction and didn't let my gaze move to the
windows that overlooked the parking lot. I knew that half the school was stuck
in them. Instead, I let Vincent kiss the top of my head, just one more time
before I got into the car, knowing that he was doing it primarily for me, to show
me affection and support, and at the same time to show others that he is
always ready to give it to me, no matter what.
I didn't even look back as we left the academy grounds. I didn't shed a
single tear when I thought about saying goodbye to the school I loved so much.
The wall I left there is now covered with high-voltage barbed wires.
I won't have the best average anymore.

I left Mona and a handful of friends at school. My bond with the latter was
so tenuous that it had probably already loosened by the time I got home. My
friendship with Mona, on the other hand, was about to seriously weaken. We
will lose a huge common topic, i.e. conversations about school and everything
related to school, which is such an important issue in the lives of seventeen-
year-olds.
I left Leo too. I won't have a boyfriend. I won't receive a message from him
that will make my mouth smile. I won't see any "good morning" on my phone
screen in the morning and "good night" in the evening. He won't send me a
kiss or a heart. I won't get in my Porsche and go to the Hardy bakery.
We won't come any closer to each other.

I'll be lonely. Surrounded by five wonderful brothers, but lonely.
86
VINCE
We drove in silence. I didn't cry. I tried to be strong. Vincent too

he didn't cry, even though he was in a much more difficult situation than
me. He had the phone close to him, but it was still silent. And yet Vincent
kept his feelings in check and just stared at the road with concentration.
I also kept my head straight. I was strong. As him.

Just as we were getting out of the car in the mansion's garage, Vince's
cell phone rang, but it was a work call, and Vincent answered it by running
his fingers through his hair and clenching his jaw tightly.
It was too much, it all overwhelmed me too much.
I left it in the garage and went into the living room of the house, and there I
got in someone's way.
I looked up. It was Dylan who was stopping abruptly in front of me. I
immediately thought to myself – no, not him! Why does he have to be the
one to witness the moment when tears burst from under my eyelids?
I didn't want to cry so much in front of him, another brother who didn't
deserve any more pain. By the Lord, he has already suffered so much.
Dylan wasn't wearing a shirt, just gray shorts. He had a towel in his hand. Dark
eyes were intense after a hard training session, hot blood was still pulsating in his
veins. For weeks he had been spending even more time at the gym than before. I
knew it was his way of dealing with difficult experiences. It was his personal drug,
something that numbed his endless pain.
And just as he took his daily dose, ready for relief, na

I stood in his way - the source of his worst torture.
– Hailie?
It was too late, he saw me like this, so I couldn't run away from him now.
He will worry and worry. My lip trembled as I spoke, "I-I dropped out of
school."
He didn't back down, he didn't hesitate. He immediately hugged me, even here
in the safety of our home, willing to put my comfort above his own. He gave me the
closeness I needed, even dropping a towel on the ground.
And, selfishly, I wrapped my arms around him too.

I cried into his freshly showered skin.
- Why? Hey, why, Hailie, girl? – he asked and stroked my back.
I shook my head, exhausted by the fact that I couldn't answer him.

- I could not…
– What couldn't you do?
I was trembling.
“Dylan, this isn't for me,” I sobbed.

He hugged me tighter.
– What's not for you?
- This life. I feel like this is not my life. “I took a deep breath and sniffled, rubbing
my eyes with the sleeve of my coat. – School, sitting at lunch with a friend,
gossiping in the cafeteria, boyfriend. Everything is not okay.
“That's not true,” he argued and pulled back to look at my face. –

You know that's not true. Hey, who deserves all this if not you?
– It's not about what I deserve. I tried to deceive myself, I argued with Vincent
about school, with you about Leo. And everything always ends the same.
“It would be different now,” he said, taking off my hat, and then he started helping
me unwind the scarf from around my neck, looking hard and determined into his
hands. – Now you could go to school normally. And this Leo, well, maybe if he came
again... I mean, I could, I don't know, tidy myself up a bit, or...
I shook my head.
“I dropped out of school,” I repeated dryly. – And I broke up with Leo.
Dylan glanced at me briefly, then worked on the buttons on my coat. It didn't bother
me that I was standing in front of him, being served by him like a four-year-old coming
back from sledding. There was something charmingly sad about our little scene
together.
– You broke up with him? Isn't he with you? – he made sure.
It was funny how I could see his muscles flexing under his skin with my naked eye.
“Yes, I do,” I confirmed. – Don't worry, you don't have to hit him.
- Pity.
I slapped his bulging arm, and in retaliation he took the fingers of one hand away
from the button for a moment to pinch my chin, which I quickly moved away from him
with a frustrated huff.
“I think it'll be better this way,” I muttered, massaging the burning sensation
chin. I took off my coat too, and Dylan stepped aside to hang it up.
I sat down on the steps and bent down to take off my shoes, and my nose started to smell
there was a runny nose and I swigged it again.
– Of course it will be better.

– But… I'm sorry.
Dylan came back to me, sat on the step next to me, and hugged me again.
– I know, little girl, but don't cry. Not worth it.
– Don't say that, he was good to me.

– Don't cry anyway. Hey. - He grabbed my chin again, but this time more
gently, just to look into my eyes. – No matter how fucking good a guy is to
you, he's never worth your tears. Can you hear what I'm saying?
“It hurts me, Dylan,” I cried.

– Being stabbed hurts, you know? Breakups are just ticklish at best. Do
you understand? Fucking ticklish, he said, and first he touched my side,
then my stomach, and then he actually started tickling me so much that I
flinched, squealed, and ended up laughing through my tears.
Even though I didn't feel like laughing at all.
– Dylan! - I cried, doubling over. - Stop!
I finally freed myself from his attacking hands, jumped to my feet and
jumped to the side, and when I saw he wasn't going to let up, I ran into the
living room. Dylan followed me, got me again, and we both ended up on the
couch. Interestingly, he was busy tickling me and didn't even touch my skirt,
which was shorter than usual.
– Leave it alone! – I screamed, giggling against my will. I even kicked him
in the stomach, but it didn't hurt him. – How do you even know how much it
hurts to be stabbed, huh? I was the one who was stabbed.
Dylan froze.
- Well, I guess I realized that it wasn't pleasant when you bled out in front
of me, right?
- Exactly. – I nodded, wiping the tears from my cheeks and sitting more
comfortably. – In front of you. You can't tell me that I suffered more than you.
– Are you feeling well? “Dylan stepped away from me, his eyebrows raised so
high they almost touched his hairline, and he spread his arms as he said, “See
what happened to me?” You see? Let me tell you, exactly nothing happened to
me. At most, I don't give a damn about hypersensitive ones right now.
– Teeth are nothing to joke about.
– You better shut up. Dylan shook his head, grimacing.

– Look, the truth is, I was just lying there! – I threw my hands up in the air. – You did all
the work. Don't tell me I put so much effort into it.
– Stop irritating me, little girl. What you experienced there is only you
You know. When that guy came for you then... - He paused.
– I didn't have time to think then! But you had a lot of it.
– But you were the one who was traumatized! In the hospital you tensed just from being
touched, do you think no one saw it?
– You were traumatized too! And it affected you too, and don't tell me it didn't.
“And…” Dylan looked away. – Don't talk.

– Someone has run out of arguments.
Dylan gave me a warning, pseudo-threatening look, and then
he sighed and rubbed his eyelids.
– No, because if someone had told me a few years ago that a little girl would come and
make such a mess, I would have laughed at them.
– If someone had told me a few years ago that I would live with five children
older brothers whom I love so much, I would laugh at him too.
With that one, most important word, I brought his gaze back to me.
- What? – I snorted. – You love me too. You said it yourself, I remember.
“I'd give my life for you,” he said quickly, then lowered his head, mumbling, “And that
scares me.”
I lifted the corner of my mouth and clung to his muscular hand.
– Me too, for you.
He jerked his arm away just to shake his finger at me.

– That's it! Don't you even dare say that. I'm serious, you understand? Then, when you
took the fucking knife out of your stomach, ready to die there next to me... Don't you ever
dare do it again.
– If someone stabs me again, I will remember this.
– Don't be smart, this is a serious matter. I don't know if you even understand
what you've done, girl...
He shook his head, lowered it, and ran his hand through his hair. He hid from me
face and I blinked.
“Dylan…” I spoke gently, leaning over him, surprised by his sudden change. –
Dylan…
– They kidnapped you and I couldn't even save you and then what, were you supposed
to die there? Was that your plan? Why did you even come back to the basement for me
after you broke free? Why did you come back?!
I moved away from him abruptly because he suddenly looked at me with red
eyes, glittering not only with tears, but also with reproach.
I dug my claws into his bare arm.

– I was supposed to leave you? For you to die? Would you like it that way?
How do you think I would feel about it? Do you have imagination?!
– I could handle it!
– What if you didn't?
– I would.
– What do you eat…
– I'd give it, damn it! – he roared. His chest was heaving violently, and I was just
discovering how many emotions he was holding inside. – You can't risk your life for
me… or the rest of the boys…
– I only have you!

Dylan blinked and opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him,
overcome by strong emotions myself. They welled up inside me and raged inside
me like a tornado.
– You are my only family, you are the most important and yes, I will risk my life
for you if necessary, because I know that you would do the same. Whether you like
it or not.
He looked at me and I think I managed to bend him. He didn't speak for a long
time, and I also used this prolonged moment of silence to reflect on myself
control.
Finally he rubbed his eyes again and I was getting ready for the next session
screams as he simply gasped, "You're
annoying." – If only you
knew how annoying you are.
We sat in silence for another moment, both of us processing in our heads the amazing fact
of how far our relationship had come. I never imagined having such a strong bond with anyone.
It is also a completely different type of agreement from the one I had with my mother, or I
hoped I would have with my husband or partner in the future.
This kind of understanding was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Strong and
indestructible.
The silence was broken by Dylan's phone ringing and I suspected it was Martina,
even before he silenced his cell phone.
– Why don't you answer? - I asked.
– Because I'm busy.
– Then answer the phone and say you'll call me back.
– I'll call you back later and then tell you I was busy.
“Dylan,” I sighed. – Is everything okay between you two?
“Yeah,” he muttered, and a moment later he added reluctantly, “It'll be there soon.”
She complained that I was ignoring her.
– Maybe she's complaining that you're ignoring her because you're just ignoring her?
- NO. I ignore her because she complains that I ignore her. If I ignore her now, she will see
that I wasn't really ignoring her before.
– I'll repeat the question: is everything okay between you?
He tilted his head back.
– He wants to meet. I guess she was hoping that, I don't know, I would be there more often
he went to New York.
– But that's why she took advantage of the student exchange program, right? To be
together with you on the same continent, and so that you could meet more often.
– Yes, but there's been a lot going on lately, so I don't have time or mind for it
to rush to the city every now and then.
– Why doesn't she want to come here?
Dylan glanced at me.
– She… I don't know. I think he wants to.

I raised my eyebrows.
– Then why doesn't he come?
– Because I don't invite her?
– Dylan?
– Co?
– And then when she visited me in the hospital? Where did she sleep?
– I organized the hotel for us. – He shrugged and I gaped

Eyes.
– You're kidding me. Why didn't you invite her here?!
– Because this is our family home?
– Dylan, how is she supposed to feel when you didn't even take her to your house? Have
you formally introduced her to Vincent? Will?
– I don't know… No.
– You're in a relationship and she probably feels that you don't take her seriously.
– I take her seriously, I've never taken any chick more seriously,
I don't know what more she expects from me.
– So that you wouldn't just say that you're serious about her, but also show it to her, maybe?
– Well, what should I show her? After all, he doesn't belong to the family.
With a concerned face, I changed my position to see him better.
– Dylan, but you're with her because you hope that maybe one day she'll belong to her,
right?
He closed his eyes.
– She has to be patient.

– You need to give her the motivation to be patient. So that she can see that it's worth
waiting and that you don't just want to play with her feelings. You have to do this, Dylan,
or she might leave, and I don't want that to happen because I can see that you care about
her.
“Okay, okay, I'll sort something out,” he muttered and sat in silence for a while,
grumpy, enduring my intrusive look until he made a reasonable decision in his head and
took the phone out of his pocket. He stared at the screen for a moment and would
probably have stared at it even longer if Martina hadn't decided to call again.
He put the phone to his ear, stood up, and walked out into the hall, rolling his eyes at
my smile and thumbs-up.
I leaned back on the couch and took a breath.
I was really rooting for Dylan and Martina. I liked her, she was nice to me, she also
seemed smart and she coped with the difficult character of my mean brother in an
exemplary manner. She supported him, so I didn't want his relationship to fall apart. Mine
fell apart today and the feeling was terrible. I didn't wish the same for him.
“What is this,” Shane muttered, shaking his head, but his face lit up
when he saw that I was in the living room. – Oh, hello, girl.
- What's going on?
Shane threw himself on the couch in the same place as before
Dylan was occupying, and waved towards the corridor.
– Some love drama on the line. Dylan is talking to one woman, Vincent is talking to
another...
– Yes, Dylan is talking to Martina. – I nodded. – And Vince with some guy, on business.
– Dylan agrees. If the guy Vince does business with is named

Anja, that's correct too.
- What? – I jumped up. – Did you say: Anja?
– That's what I heard him say on the phone. – Shane moved
shoulders and frowned. – What, do you really think this is someone he's screwing around with?
I gulped, trying to stop myself from running out of the room in search of my oldest brother.
– When he answered my phone, he was talking to a man. I heard.
– Geez, maybe I don't know, he got a second phone call?

– What did he say exactly?
– I don't know, Hailie, it's Vincent. When he saw me, he immediately waved at me to
disappear. You know what a pleasant guy he is. Shane rolled his eyes, then narrowed them.
– What, do you know something?
– What does she know? Tony asked, joining us in the living room. He held a chocolate bar
in his hand, one of the larger ones, which he chewed like a candy bar.
– Something about Vince's new girlfriend.
– He has a new girlfriend? – Tony muttered, sprawling on the other side

the sofa, then added indifferently, "What about Grace?"
“Who cares,” I muttered under my breath, craning my neck,

as if I could see Vincent from the position I was in.
– Nobody, right. – Shane nodded, staring enviously at his twin's chocolate for a moment,
but then he snapped out of his trance and nudged me. – Tell me what you know about this
Anja.
– I don't know anything about her, leave me.
– Anja? What kind of name is that? Tony snorted.
- What name? – asked Will, who was the next Monet in the living room and also chose the
seat next to me, which I responded with a smile, sent especially to him. In return, he put his
arms around my shoulders and hugged me to his powder-smelling blue shirt, not caring that it
would cause it to wrinkle.
“Well, Anja,” Shane replied.
– And what's wrong with him?
“It's a cool name, but there must be something wrong with the girl who has it if she's having
an affair with Vince,” Shane muttered, and Tony chuckled, rustling the paper.
Will raised his eyebrows.

– How do we know if Vince is having an affair with someone? – Because I was hugging
to his chest, I could feel it vibrating as he spoke.
– Hailie said so.
- I did not say! – I protested immediately, opening my eyes. – Shane said so.
– She knows something.
“I don't know anything,” I defended myself. – This is our brother and his love life,
leave him alone.
“That's right,” said Dylan, who had returned to the living room,
still with the phone in hand. – Leave me alone and take care of yourselves.
I covered my eyes with my hand.
“But what's your point, no one's talking about you here…” Shane raised his eyebrows.
– So which brother and his love life are we talking about, right? – he growled
Dylan.
– We're talking about Vincent, you idiot.
– Oh, really?
Everyone fell silent because, as if on cue and as a complement to the Monet
picture, the eldest brother appeared in the living room, and his cold voice froze us
all.
"No," Tony muttered, taking a large bite of chocolate so he wouldn't have to say
anything else.
“We're talking about Dylan, though,” Shane said, looking away.
Will and Dylan snorted, and Vincent swept everyone with his favorite,
with an icy look.
Everyone but me. He avoided me because he felt I was hitting on him
impatient look, waiting for information.
Vince, I said his name over and over in my head, trying to get his attention
telepathically.
– So, how's it going with Martina, huh? Shane nodded at Dylan, stifling a laugh.
– Don't worry, fringe.

I grimaced and moved closer to Will as Dylan and Shane began to push
past me. My favorite brother was laughing at these two idiots, and Tony was
craning his head to get a good view of the fight.
With everyone's attention focused on the struggling brothers, it was the perfect moment for me
to finally make eye contact with Vincent.
I was about to open my mouth and call him when finally he, still standing
there like a statue, looked at me. Only then did I see that he had put on a tight
mask on his face, which was supposed to not allow any emotions to pass
through. But when he saw how concerned I was, it relaxed because a muscle
twitched.
He didn't say anything, but for a moment I thought there was some kind of
gentleness, maybe even relief, in his pale blue irises?
He nodded barely noticeably.

I held my breath.
Did I predict it?
Oh my God.
A spontaneous scream escaped my lips even before I could muffle it with

my hand, which immediately went to my mouth. With this unexpected sound, I
caught the attention of my brothers, who looked at me just as a fountain of hot
tears gushed from under my eyelids.
Everyone stopped, Dylan and Shane stopped struggling.
– Hailie! Will immediately rubbed my arm, startled by my sudden condition.
- What is?
- Something
hurts you? Tears were flowing freely down my cheeks and I was even starting to choke.
So, unable to say a word, I just shook my head.
- Something happened?
– Why are you crying?

I stared at Vincent, who was frozen in place, as if he was trying to keep

himself in shape, until finally, without taking my eyes off him, I managed to
say, "It's because of
happiness."
The corner of Vincent's mouth twitched. I swear I didn't see it coming and
he actually flinched.
The boys looked at each other, probably thinking I was crazy, but soon enough
they noticed those glances between me and our oldest brother.
- What is? Shane frowned.
I shook my head and wiped the tears from my cheeks, and when I tried to
meet Vincent's eyes again, all I saw was his back as he left the living room.
I didn't stop him, I didn't run after him. I wanted to give him this moment of
peace. Maybe he needed to be alone.
It wasn't like he needed comfort.
“It's just,” I said aloud to the rest, wiping my cheeks, “
finally something good is happening.
My bathroom smelled of sweet orange and cedar.

I breathed deeply as I stood in the shower amidst the steam, washing away
the cold events of the day with the warm water. I massaged my wet, slicked
back hair with my fingertips for a long time until I finally turned off the water
and wrapped myself in a large, soft towel.
I made a face mask, deciding that since I had been torturing my poor skin,
first stretching it to the limit and then flooding it with salty tears over and over
again, it now deserved some indulgence.
I dried my hair and then put on my favorite sweatpants, which, due to the
season, I also liked to sleep in. However, before I headed, fresh and fragrant,
to bed, I went out into the corridor, closing the door quietly behind me. I ran
down the empty corridor straight to the forbidden place for me
part of the house and, with a cautious distance, I passed the bodyguard, Vincent,
who probably hated me.
I was let into my brother's office without any problem, and there I found him
sitting at a desk in the dim light of a lamp, with a laptop in front of him. Right next
to the equipment was a glass of water, which I was silently happy to see.
Vincent looked at me without impatience or irritation, nor was he surprised. I

approached him slowly, smiling gently.
I still couldn't smile openly and spontaneously from ear to ear, but I finally felt the
fire of happiness in my heart that caused this type of smile. It's true that it was just
getting lit there, but I saw in it hope for a big bonfire in the future, and maybe even
a fire.
– What do you need, Hailie? – my brother asked, as reserved as ever.
I placed my hands on the edge of the desk and leaned on it slightly. I didn't take
my eyes off Vince. He lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes slightly, and yet I could
see the question marks there, as if he were wondering what the hell was happening
to me, but true to his nature, he didn't use his tongue to ask again.
“You're having a baby,” I finally said.

He took a breath and looked down at the laptop keyboard, then raised his eyebrows.
“Everything points to that,” he confirmed dryly.

– Do you already know if it's a girl or a boy?
He blinked.
- NO.
– Would you rather have a son or a daughter? - I smiled more and more boldly,
seeing his confusion.
– By the Lord, Hailie, a child is a child, I see no difference. Vincent shook his head and
reached for the glass. I thought disappointment flashed in his pale irises when he
remembered that there was water there instead of whiskey, because he didn't take a sip
from it but put it back on the counter.
– Do you already know whether Anja will live here?

“Probably so,” he muttered.
- How wonderful…
– I said probably.
– Tell me, Vince, when will I meet her?
- Soon. We'll see.
– And when will the rest of the guys find out?
“Soon, too,” he sighed and rubbed his eyelids with his forefinger and thumb.
“I can't wait for them to find out,” I said, still leaning against the desk. – I
think they will go crazy with joy.
Vince looked at me in disbelief.
– Hailie, I'm not sure you understand the gravity of the situation. A lot will change.
– If you throw me out of the house, I will fly to France, to Maja – I said. “I
plan on doing it soon anyway.”
– Don't rush with these travel plans, first of all – he started
Vincent, examining me carefully. – If you are making plans for the near future,
you are still obligated to inform me about them and obtain my consent.
I rolled my eyes.
– Hailie, do you understand what I said?
“Yes, Vince,” I replied, trying not to fall over
eyes once again.
Generally, I thought that my oldest brother's child would win his father's
lottery, but there were also little things like this that I did not envy for his future
descendant.
– And secondly, no one will throw you out of the house. I've already told
you that. No one will ever kick you out of it. There will always be a place for
you and our brothers here.
I smiled a little wider and walked around the desk. Lately, I've been receiving
more affection from Vince than usual, and I vowed to take advantage of his
gentle side as much as I could.
“You'll be a great father, Vince,” I whispered to him, wrapping my arms around
him.
Vincent put his hand on my arm and didn't say anything for so long that I
didn't expect any reaction to my words, but eventually I heard him answer:
– Thank you, Hailie.

I straightened up, but I didn't leave his side yet.
– Was I the first to find out about this whole situation?
He nodded.
– Even faster than Will? – I made sure.
– Only you know.
I hugged him again.
“It's hard for me to understand, my dear child, what you're so happy about,”
Vincent confessed, and when I pulled away from him again, I saw him frowning,
genuinely confused.
I touched his arm, hidden under the expensive fabric of his jacket.
“Vince, it's hard for me to understand that you don't know this yet,” I replied. -
Do not understand? Your happiness is proof that each of us has a chance.
Today I broke up with a boy I cared about, I dropped out of the school I liked, I
have long rehabilitation and therapy sessions ahead of me, I'm in mourning for
Sonny... For a moment I thought it was over, and suddenly you find love, you're
supposed to become a dad, and that gives me so much hope, Vince! – For the
thousandth time today, tears came to my eyes. – Hope that it is possible, that
everything is possible and that happiness is waiting somewhere for each of us!
“Hailie,” he spoke, after staring at me for a moment. His voice became slightly
hoarse and he grabbed my hand. – I have no doubt that you will be happy. I
don't see any other solution here. That
all the people in the world, I wish it to you, my dear child, the most.
– But we will have a child at home! – I whispered excitedly. – Vince, I'm

already so happy!
Vincent didn't let go of my hand as he stood up. In an instant, he towered
over me, and I stared boldly at his intimidating figure.
He didn't take his cool blue eyes off of me as he grabbed my chin, lifted his
too, and said clearly, calmly, and without a stammer, almost icily, "I love you,
Hailie."
I didn't lower my eyes, I didn't turn away. I didn't close my eyes or bite my
lip. Returning his gaze, I replied with the same confidence, "I love you too,
Vince."
Satisfaction flashed in his eyes. Maybe because we fulfilled each other

so perfectly in this confession? Honest, short and specific, that's what it was
said on both sides.
I don't know if anyone has ever been able to return Vincent's intense
gaze for as long as I can now.
Maybe Anja?
Let's hope Anja. This woman must be brave if she is to marry Vincent
Monet and start a family with him.
My brother finally shook his head, and his fingers tightened gently on my
chin. Now he looked like I was a sculpture he was looking at.
“Younger sister,” he whispered to himself and shook his head slightly as if

with amusement and disbelief.
I smiled, slowly showing my row of teeth, until finally
I decided to interrupt his rigid analyzes with true tenderness.
And I hugged him as tight as I could.
18 BIRTHDAY
I clenched my fists in boxing gloves. I returned blow after blow

in quick bursts, just like I was taught. I was careful to breathe and focus on
technique, not necessarily strength.
I had been training for a long time and was getting better at it, but no punching
bag had ever given me back, so I straightened up and jumped back as it leaned
towards me at an unnatural angle.
– Not bad, girl.
My eyes widened. My mean brother peeked out from behind the bag, his lips
stretched into the evil smile I longed for.
– DYLAN!
I jumped at him, immediately throwing my arms around his neck without bothering him
taking off your gloves beforehand.
- What are you doing here? – I sighed. I melted as I felt his arms wrap around
me and his broad chest against which I pressed my cheek shaking with laughter.
“Little Hailie's birthday,” he replied. – I wouldn't miss it.

- Tomorrow! Tomorrow is my birthday, and we were supposed to meet in Spain, that was
the plan!
– Correction: that was your plan. Mine is a little different.

I broke away from him to look at him suspiciously.

– But wait, are we going to Madrid? I talked to Martina. Everything was confirmed…
- Yeah. "Don't be afraid, the little girl will get her little party," he sneered. – It's
about spending tonight together, you know, as a whole.
– And you came here specifically for this? – My mouth spontaneously formed a
horseshoe shape.
– It's not every day that little sisters turn eighteen.
I clung back to him.
- You're the best.
– Of course.
I didn't let go of him for a long time, so he finally started hurrying me up by patting
my shoulder.
– But first, take a shower, because you stink.
I obediently moved away and with impatient movements I tore the boxing gloves off my
hands, helping myself with my teeth. I left them on the mattress and almost ran for the
door, but Dylan called after me almost immediately.
I stopped as if on command and turned around.

“Show me,” he demanded, lifting his chin imperiously.
I licked my lips before they stretched into a wide smile and then
I raised my hand, tensed my muscles and clasped my fingers into a fist.
Dylan moved closer to me, scanning my bicep with a critical gaze. I pretended it
didn't hurt at all when he squeezed it.
Finally he nodded in approval.
– Well, it's better.
“I exercise regularly,” I boasted, lowering my hand and pushing my chest forward.
– You can see the effects. You finally stopped slacking off.
– I've never slacked off.

– Go take a shower now.

I turned on my heel, ready to run away again, but Dylan was back
he prevented me from doing so.
-Eh! – he growled.
He was pointing to the corner of the room and I knew exactly what he
meant, so I wordlessly moved there and grabbed one of the stacked water
bottles. I left the gym, swallowing it in gulps, not stopping anymore.
I heard the twins whispering as I passed the living room, but I didn't
stop to listen. I was too excited and wanted to join my brothers, sit on the
couch with them and feel what I had been missing since they were gone.
Shane and Tony arrived a few days ago and that was already a huge
attraction for me. We played on the console, went to the shooting range
and ate unhealthy food, which I had learned to limit since they left. I knew
they were homesick too, because even though they had only recently left
home to study in Europe, it was quite a change for them. Officially, they
came to accompany me on the flight to Spain and to fulfill the role of
uncles, but I knew that they were also recharging their family batteries
here, which had been drained by being away from home for a long time.
I jumped up and down the steps, and the shower I took in my bathroom
was quick. I put on comfortable, light sweatpants and left my wet hair
loose after washing, not even wasting time to dry it. I also sprayed
perfume on myself so that Dylan wouldn't be able to say that I smelled
anymore.
Surrounded by a mist of May rose and jasmine with citrus notes, I was
ready to go downstairs when someone knocked and a moment later it
was Tony.
Tony visiting my room was a rare sight, and yet he stood there
in person and even came inside when I invited him.
His pale blue eyes scanned my bedroom, glaring as surly as ever.
Their wild expression had much of the way
the way our father looked at the world. Except Cam's irises were dark, so they seemed
more diabolical.
I didn't notice the sketchbook Tony was holding in his tattooed hand until he raised
it. He handed it to me without a word, and I let out a strangled cry. It was open to a
page with a drawing that I immediately knew that my talented brother had created
especially for me.
The pony sat and looked at me shyly. His thick mane was arranged in beautiful
curls. He smiled slightly, but that was where the innocence of the image ended, because
he had a gun in his mouth and there was subtle madness in his eyes. I had already
become familiar with Tony's style enough to know that he put every line on paper by
relying on his extraordinary, slightly crazy imagination. Moreover, the drawing had this
uniqueness that was inimitable, just like every tattoo on my brother's skin.
“Tony…” I whispered. – How wonderful…

– Yeah? – he muttered indifferently.
I looked up at him.
– Pony! With a gun…
“A ponytail because it reminds me of a small child, i.e. you…” he explained, tracing the
sketchbook with his finger and ignoring my raised eyebrow. – And the gun refers to our
activities at the shooting range and the fact that sometimes, very rarely, but sometimes
exceptionally, you show your claw.
I hugged him to show my gratitude and hide the fact that my eyes were watering
Eyes.
Today I was clearly experiencing a day of tenderness with my brothers and I had
absolutely nothing against it.
– It's amazing, thank you. “I blinked for a moment, then a thought occurred to me
and I pulled away. I looked at the drawing again, this time holding it in both hands and
almost sticking my nose into it. Then I lifted my head and looked into my brother's face
with a small, still innocent, but slightly devious smile. -Tony? Can I get it tattooed?
Tony turned behind him, as if checking to make sure none of my overprotective

brothers were standing behind him and listening, even though he had closed the door
behind him earlier. Then he leaned towards me and narrowed his eyes.
“Listen to me carefully now,” he began ominously. – The official story is that I
sketched a picture for you so you could hang it above your sweet little desk, okay? -
He glanced behind him again and lowered his voice, continuing: - But if you think about
getting a tattoo of it, you should come to me, because I'm the only guy I know who
won't fuck it up for you.
I couldn't suppress the squeal that escaped my lips. I clung to him again.
– You designed my tattoo! – I exclaimed.

– Be quiet.
“I'm going to have a tattoo,” I whispered.
"I only did it because you were moaning about your scar."
I blushed, remembering the unexpected conversation I had with Tony a few months
ago. I was having a terrible day, and he happened to come over and listen to me
complain about the spot on my stomach that Clarissa had forever disfigured with a
knife.
"You can cover it up now if you want," Tony said with a shrug.
– You said she was awesome.

- Do not swear. That's what I said and I still think so, but whatever
roar because of it, it's better if you don't have it.
I pushed my hair behind my ear and hesitated before answering him.
– I don't know, you know what, she doesn't seem to bother me that much anymore…
Ever since you told me it was a part of me, I somehow even liked her… – I shrugged.
– Maybe I could get a small tattoo on my back?
Or more to the side, right here?
I started to twist and bend, and then Tony rolled his eyes and left my room. When I
realized that he was leaving me, I quickly put his sketch in a drawer, thinking that he
would still
the time would come to brag about it and show it to the world, and then I went
after it.
In the living room, Shane sipped a Coke and sighed as the refreshing drink
quenched his thirst. In his other hand he held a rattle, which he must have found
on the chair in which he sat down. He shook it lazily from time to time. It was gold
and with amber stones that sparkled nicely when the rays of the setting sun fell
on them.
Vince's baby, as you might expect, got about five of them.
Tony lay down on the couch in the most Tony-like pose, the one that I would
forever associate with him. Earlier, he grabbed a bag of chips, one of several that
were on the table. The twins bought a lot of unhealthy snacks. Dylan, to which I
smiled, decided to give dried fruit a chance, which I, in turn, had recently been
stocking up on in abundance.
“What is this shit?” he asked, biting into a dried plum, and then the spell was
broken.
– When we arrived, there wasn't a single bag of chips here. Hailie
She and Anja made some kind of fit-eco-bio pantry - Shane complained.
– If I had known you were coming, I would have bought some garbage – I
defended myself. – We try to eat healthily every day.
“She's into Will,” Dylan commented.
- Not good. Shane shook his head.
– Stop whining, I feel fantastic. – I waved my hand and sat down next to Dylan.
– What kind of box is this?
It was at the foot of the couch, right next to Dylan's leg. It was large and half-
open, carelessly and loosely tied with a ribbon, and when Dylan patted it with his
hand, it moved.
- Oh my God! – I called out and I hadn't even sat down properly yet
I threw myself on the ground to open my wings.
Inside, surrounded by a cardboard void, a small kitten lay on its back, curled
up like a shrimp. He had his front paws tucked in and was staring at me with his
big blue eyes.
- What is?!
I immediately held out my arms to him, and he meowed long and loudly in
protest, trying to run away somewhere to the side. He immediately calmed down
when he discovered that he felt more comfortable in my arms.
- Is for me? – I was delighted, stroking the baby's head.
His fur was shiny, fluffy and ash-colored, and all four of his paws were black, as if
someone had put socks on him. – What about the no gifts rule?
“It's your eighteenth birthday, girl,” Dylan reminded me, staring suspiciously at
the raisin he held between his fingers. – It's time you understood that we follow our
rules, unless
we will decide otherwise. Today we decided differently. Easy?
“Simple,” I replied. – He's so sweet.
“He's a little devil,” Shane said. – Then you should get along.
– He looks like an angel.
“Yeah,” Tony snorted and held out his arm. – See this? It scratches like crazy.
- I can not see.

– Is… – Vincent, who had just entered the living room, paused
as soon as he saw what I was pressing to my chest. - What is this?
“It's a cat, Vince,” Dylan replied, and the twins suppressed a snort.
– What is it doing here? – our oldest brother growled, frowning.

He must have greeted Dylan before because he didn't seem surprised to see him.
– It's a gift for Hailie.

– Are you serious? What do you imagine? Put it down, Hailie.
I didn't even look at him, drowning in the kitten's blue eyes,

who I could have sworn shook at the sound of Vince's voice.
“Come on, I need company,” Dylan said. – She's lonely, especially since we're
in Europe and Will is in Florida…
and what... she only has you left, and let's face it: you're not particularly
entertaining.
– A baby lives in this house. There is no place for animals here.
– Children should grow up with animals. “It teaches empathy and all that,”
Shane interjected.
– I don't agree to any cat. – I could actually feel Vince shooting lightning
bolts from his cold eyes. He paused for a moment, then added, "I'm allergic."
There were snorts.

“Don't worry, Daddy, this breed is hypoallergenic,” Shane said, almost
shaking with laughter. – Tony and I did some tests.
– Tests? I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“The cat alternated between the twins' and Vince's bedrooms during the
day,” Dylan explained.
"He was rolling on your pillow," Tony muttered to his oldest brother,
failing to hide his laughter.
– And we didn't even notice you had a cold, daddy.
I glanced at Vince, who looked like he wanted to choke the whole thing
their siblings. Finally he raised a finger at the twins and said,
– I'm leaving for a moment. When I come back, I don't want to see any trace
of this cat. Understood? – He turned to me. – Can you hear me, Hailie?
Hailie.
“Mhm,” I replied, giggling because the cat's claws were caught in my blouse
and I was trying to help him free them.
The next thing I heard was the garage door slamming. Still absorbed in the
living creature in my arms, it took me a moment to realize that the boys were
planning something, as they shot each other knowing glances and craned their
necks after Vince to make sure he was gone.
– Okay, so what, are we doing this? – Shane asked.

Tony nodded, pushing himself up into a sitting position.
– Didn't he say he was only going out for a while?
– If he gets angry, we'll run away to Spain tomorrow anyway, we have nothing to lose
– said Dylan and stood up, clapping his hands.
– What are you talking about? – I raised my head, giving my brothers distrustful glances.
“Move and you'll find out,” Dylan replied.

I was the last one to leave the living room, following the boys. I was keeping an eye on
the kitten and it meowed again, dissatisfied with the change of position.
I held him tightly as I climbed the stairs, scanning my brothers' backs with suspicion.
When they turned into the once forbidden corridor, my first thought was that we were
going to the shooting range, and I opened my mouth to protest and draw their attention to
the presence of a kitten who would surely be afraid of shots, when Dylan's hand tightened
on the doorknob. to Vincent's office.
- What are you doing? – I asked in a frantic whisper, turning behind me as if I expected
my oldest brother to be right behind me. – Are you crazy?
– Luz, young one.
I raised an eyebrow, but I didn't stay behind, I just crossed the threshold of the office.
I got a little goosebumps because it was cold inside. I looked around.
The room was empty without Vincent, but there was an aura of menace in it, as if the room
had a life of its own and was not happy with our intrusion.
I looked around, my head full of various memories of this place.

It's good that I was here with the guys, because they lightened up the dark atmosphere a
bit. Tony threw himself on the couch just like in the living room, Shane took one of the two
armchairs at Vince's desk, and I stood in the middle and watched in disbelief as Dylan
walked over to the bar and reached for one of the fancy-looking bottles of whiskey.
“He's going to murder us,” I said, hugging the kitten tighter.

– He won't find out.
“We're literally sitting in his office and you're drinking his whiskey,” I said. – Of course
he will find out.
"He left," Tony muttered.

- Be right back!
– He won't look for us in his office.

– But…
“Hailie, relax,” Shane sighed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
I stroked the cat and bit my lip.
“Come on, sit down somewhere, girl,” Dylan told me, and then he turned away from
the shoulder, waved his hand wildly, and bowed his head dramatically. - Make yourself
comfortable.
Over the time I got to know Vincent, I learned to love him as he was,
even his coldness and rudeness, but I still felt great respect for him,
which is why I was hesitant to invade his private sphere, which was his
office. However, I had no intention of leaving here, running away, or
separating myself from the holy trinity, so I stood and waited for events
to unfold.
Dylan opened the bottle and rattled the thick-bottomed crystal glasses.
Taking this as a sign that the matter was already decided and there was
nothing to fight for, I, defeated, had no choice but to take my place with
the boys. I was supposed to sit in the chair next to Shane, but on impulse
I walked around the desk and made myself comfortable on Vincent's
large, almost leather throne.
Shane whistled and Tony laughed.
“Good, girl,” Dylan praised my choice.
I curled my legs and placed the kitten between my thighs and belly.
He fit in there with pleasure, using me more and more boldly as a pillow.
I leaned back in Vincent's chair, appreciating its comfort.
Dylan set the glass in front of Shane and placed the other in Tony's
outstretched hand. The boys were a bit silly. Tony lifted it and let the light
from the lamp reflect on it, creating a glow. Shane took a sip and savored
it for a moment like a world-famous whiskey connoisseur. I was so
entertained that I almost missed Dylan placing one of the glasses in front
of me.
I snapped my head up, expecting to see a mocking smile on his face, something that
would prove he was teasing me. I was sure he was going to take the vessel from under my
nose and wave his finger at me, saying something like, "Nu, nu, nu, girl, little Hailie is not
allowed to drink alcohol."
Even though his lips stretched with suspicious mockery, he didn't take anything from
me; on the contrary, he moved the glass even closer and laughed at my surprise.
I blinked, unable to believe that my brother, who was probably the most obsessive
about the alcohol ban next to Vincent, was offering me such a strong drink.
– Dylan, are you okay? – I asked to make sure it was there

aware of what he is doing.
– This is a foretaste of what awaits us in Spain. Get ready, girl.
When it was clear that I was still in disbelief, Dylan became serious and leaned slightly
towards me.
– I promised you, didn't I? – he muttered quietly.
I nodded, a chill running down my spine as I recalled the circumstances in which that
promise was made. – Just so I don't keep my
word. “He relaxed and winked at me.
I grinned with excitement.

– So I can officially drink and you won't pick on me?
– Only with us and only in Europe, unless exceptionally with us in the United States,
when it's your birthday – he explained to me, and then raised his glass. – Here's to you,
little girl, and for putting up with us for so long.
– I should have had a whole bottle of this whiskey for putting up with you.
- I do not see a problem. - He smiled. – Vince has a lot of wrestling and it's a long
evening.
“Too little Hailie,” Shane muttered and took a long swallow, and Tony nodded and did
the same.
Dipping my lips in the drink, I looked straight into Dylan's eyes, and he
he looked back at me.
I've never drank whiskey. I never drank much alcohol because of my
overprotective brothers, although I did know the burning taste of tequila. The
whiskey was similar, or maybe completely different, but I definitely winced just as
much when I tasted it in my mouth. Seeing Vince so eagerly sip it so often, I
imagined it would be something sweeter, especially with that inviting amber color.
My brother's whiskey proved impossible to drink, but I wasn't about to take the
glass away from me. There was something magical about drinking it in the
company of boys.
I soon came to the conclusion that whiskey tasted like celebration. It is as sharp
and expressive as changes in life, as well as the strength and courage to introduce
and experience them. With that thought in mind, I felt attracted to her much more
pleasantly.
One sip at a time.
I had to hold the kitten on my lap because my stomach hurt from laughing so hard.
I didn't know where to put my hands, whether to grab him, whether to hold the animal,
whether to wipe the tears from my face, and at the same time I wanted to reach for the
glass to which Dylan kept pouring more alcohol.
Not to mention the fact that in our discussions with the boys, we were constantly
shouting over each other, so much so that I felt a great need to reinforce my
statements with gestures.
– No, because I agree that our whole family is crazy, but I think
that the biggest idiot is Dylan, I said.
- I? Am I crazy? “Dylan almost slid off the desk when he twisted his body
towards me.
– You both are. You two are a hell of alike in that way, Shane said. He, in turn,
was sitting so low in the chair that he, too, almost fell off it onto the floor.
“That's not true at all,” I protested.

– And what about Anja's birth? – Shane reminded me, and Tony tilted his head
back and laughed loudly.
- What about her? After all, this is perfect proof that I have mastered everything
perfectly - I said and clapped my hands twice, adding: - Everything went at chop
chop speed.
“Yeah, you got it all figured out,” Dylan snorted. – You panicked so much that
Anja later regretted that she hadn't locked herself in the bedroom and given birth in
secret from you.
I pointed my finger at him.
– You were the one who gave us colostrum in the clinic, I remind you.
– It's not my fault that only idiots work there.

– From what Anja said, you were the ones who panicked the most –
Shane reminded us.
– You know this, Anja, she was giving birth. She couldn't remember everything as it was.
– I don't know, I somehow believe in her version more than in yours –

zachichotaÿ Shane.
– Wait a minute, what is it? – I exclaimed, spreading my arms. I felt a little

indented, and the boys acknowledged it with smiles. – Everything went like clockwork,
I wonder how you would have reacted. I was at the gym with Dylan, we were
exercising, there was music playing, everything was la, la, la, and suddenly Anja
shyly peeked in and said, and I quote: "Er, I think my water broke." – I paused for a
second. – Well, I'm sorry, but how else can you react to something like that? I almost
dropped the weight on my foot!
– And then you started squealing that Dylan the car, Dylan the bag, Dylan that,
“Dylan shit,” Dylan snorted.
– Because we had to get to the clinic quickly, Vince was out of the house, and
you stopped dead in your tracks and stared at her with your mouth open, as if you even
he heard for the first time that she was pregnant.
“I wish you could see Anja in that car,” Dylan laughed and shook his head. – She's
sitting in the back with Hailie, Hailie keeps saying something to her, some bullshit, and
Anja leans her head back, looks at the ceiling and you can see that she's praying not to
punch her in the mouth.
– You were no better, you drove like a maniac, you stopped in front of the clinic with
tires screeching! And then, listen, Dylan rushes in and screams that a woman is in labor.
He even called someone names there.
Dylan shrugged, and the twins were already laughing their asses off.
– Because they punched me in the face with the forms! I told them to take care of the
birth first, out of Your grace.
– I remember Vince saying that you made the atmosphere so tense that when he got
to the clinic, he had to throw you outside. Shane's shoulders were shaking with laughter.
– Because they wanted to be alone! And that was absolutely sweet, I said, petting the
kitten behind the ear.
– Vince says he didn't faint, but I saw he looked pale for the next three days. Dylan
couldn't stop laughing, making it difficult to take another sip of whiskey.
“Almost like you did when you found out you had a baby,” I pointed out to my brothers.
– No, because it was enough of a shock for me that Vince even called a dinner at
which he was supposed to introduce his partner to us. Shane shrugged. – I didn't think it
would ever happen. And suddenly he says that Anja is pregnant and will have a baby.
Too much information to absorb.
"That's right, Vince is a father," Tony snorted, shaking his head. – Abstraction.
– Anja sat there, poor, so stressed, and just watched, like everyone else
They choke when they hear that she's pregnant, I giggled.
– Well, Shane almost gave up his life at that table.
– He choked on a rib.
“It's the hot sauce,” Shane muttered.
– No, but I would like to tell you that you are all lovely. Your reactions and
support for Vince... it's amazing - I sighed.
– Oho, Hailie drank and it's making her sick.

“He doesn't make me feel bad, I feel grateful,” I protested and would have
nudged Shane if he had been sitting closer. – I'm just the only person in this
family who can put my emotions into words, because my brothers are thick-
skinned boors.
“He's about to start roaring,” Tony said under his breath, rolling his eyes.
“It's roaring already,” Shane whispered, swirling his glass and watching the
drink swirl inside.
“You're stupid,” I sighed, but I actually rubbed my eyes because they were
unnecessarily glazed over. – What I mean is that it's adorable that you turned one
of the guest bedrooms into a playroom especially for the child, and that you
bought so many things, and that you took over the outdoor playground, and that
you breathed down the nanny's neck so much that she almost quit her job on the
very first day. the day that Tony drew such a beautiful picture on the wall in the
children's bedroom that... well, everything.
“Listen, Vince's kid got such a father in the lottery that... Well, let's just say I
don't envy him, no,” Shane muttered. – So it's our duty to at least make our
uncles cool.
“Vince is a wonderful father,” I said confidently.
“Vince is getting scarier every year,” he said
Dylan.
“It's because he's getting tired right here,” Shane said,
pointing somewhere in his face.
"I think he's squinting more and more and it makes him look like he's
constantly analyzing something," Tony grumbled.
– Maybe he needs glasses? – I thought about it and snorted with the boys.
The alcohol we drank was strong and our spirits were high, so we could easily
burst out laughing at even the weakest jokes.
Dylan soon poured the next round. I was smaller than my brothers and
less hardened, so I should have been able to get drunk faster, but I also
drank less than them and slower, so in the end everything probably evened
out.
At some point the boys started muttering something about food.
Dylan ordered a pizza, but it had to wait for delivery, so Shane came up
with the idea of stuffing ourselves with snacks that we left in the living room
and kitchen. No one wanted to move to go with him, so when he returned,
he was offended and put all the bags of unhealthy chips next to him, and
put a bag of dried fruit into Dylan's eagerly outstretched hand.
Dylan rolled his eyes, but was also proud and decided to give my
healthy snack a second chance. The topic of conversation then turned to
New Year's Eve, which we planned to spend in Italy. Recently, I called
Martina on camera and we booked a house by the lake together. This is a
responsibility that fell on our shoulders because my brothers lacked the
patience to scroll through dozens of websites looking for the most
interesting options. Now I answered their questions and assured them that
the house would have all the bells and whistles, such as a foosball table,
billiards, a bowling alley, a large jacuzzi and car-sized speakers to play
New Year's hits.
Dylan brandished a dried apricot as he told us that after our New Year's
Eve, he had booked a romantic trip to Venice for himself and Martina.
Shane said that he would have to quickly return to Bologna, where he was
currently studying on exchange, because he already expected that he
would have to make a retake in some exam.
Tony, on the other hand, boasted that he was going to have a lot of fun,
so I quickly suggested that after the fun, I would fall on his head. He was
studying in Berlin and I had been planning to visit him there since he left,
and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. I made a mental note to talk
to Maya, because maybe it would be a good idea for me to visit her in
Paris straight from Germany. After all, I haven't seen her for about four
months...
Such arrangements literally took a moment, because that was the only
time our inebriated brains could work sensibly. Just after
We got distracted by some stupidity that made us cry with laughter.
The kitten seemed to be getting tired of my fits of amusement.

He ran away unexpectedly, but I quickly jumped up from the chair and ran after him, grabbed
him in my arms and started stroking him to calm him down.
“You can't run away, cat,” I whispered into his pointed ear as I returned to my seat.
– You called him "cat"? – Shane was surprised, licking a cheese puff.
- NO. I called him "cat" because he's, you know, a cat.
– You should name him something.
– I have no idea… – I deliberately scratched the animal behind its ears, because then it
raised its muzzle and I could look at it. – I don't know what name suits him.
“Tony,” Dylan whinnied.
“Dylan, I guess,” Tony growled.
Dylan stopped laughing for a moment, then made a stupid face. Tony threw a peanut at
him. He fell to the ground and then Shane kicked him somewhere under Vince's desk.
The boys were talking to each other, but I was looking at what Dylan had just taken out
of the fruit bag. Lost in thought, I turned my head to the side and then looked at the kitten.
– Maybe… Date.
Shane raised an eyebrow and Tony pursed his lips.
“What a stupid name,” Dylan snorted and shook his head, nothing
unconsciously throwing a dried date into his mouth.
“I think it's cute,” I said, scratching the new family member's head. – What do you think,
kitten? Do you like it? I see that yes.
Are you Dactyl? There you are.
“She's going to go crazy with that cat,” Shane muttered.
– Don't choose names when you're drunk, little Hailie.
– I'm not even drunk. And Dactyl, for some reason, seems like a great choice to me.
The kitten looked at me with big eyes, as if looking for confirmation that
it had just been named. I nodded at him and kissed him between the eyes
as I held out my glass for Dylan to pour me more whiskey.
The next stage of our drunkenness began when we could no longer discuss
any normal topic, we just had fun with everything. To create decent
conditions for Dactyl, I placed a free armchair next to me, grabbed a
blanket, made a comfortable nest and placed it there. I also brought two
bowls.
The boys had previously provided me with cat food, which Daktyl eagerly
ate. I also gave him water, and Shane even helped me set up the portable
litter box in the office.
By then I was sure Vincent was going to murder us.
Dactyl sat curled up in his chair and closed his eyes sometimes, but
most of the time he was watching me. I thought we wouldn't do anything
again in our eldest brother's office, but, Lord, I was wrong.
Dylan was sprawling more and more across Vince's desk. The countertop
was tidy, but there were some individual things lying on it, which Dylan had
no qualms about moving sideways with a wave of his arm to make more
space.
“I guess this is a good time,” he said suddenly, and the twins tightened their grip
fingers on their glasses and nodded.
– What's going on again? – I asked, watching with interest as Dylan rose
and stood next to me, leaned over to one of the drawers in the large desk
and pulled it out. - ABOUT.
Dylan took out a large box made of solid wood and opened its lid,
revealing neatly arranged side by side the most exclusive cigars I had ever
seen. They didn't compare to the cheaper, plump roll that fell apart in your
hand
I was swinging in Saint-Tropez. These cigars were like works of art, they must have cost
a fortune, and Dylan had just shamelessly taken one out and put it in his mouth.
He looked like the biggest thug with his muscles, mischief shining in his eyes and a
cigar in his mouth.
I blinked for a moment, completely surprised, because since I'd met him, Dylan had
been upholding all the numerous bans I'd received, ready to take me down for the
slightest infraction, and yet here he was standing in front of me, pouring me whiskey
and offering me a cigar to boot.
I wasn't going to say no, finally feeling that equality between myself and my brothers,
something I'd been waiting for since I first stepped through the doors of the Monet
Mansion. So I reached out my hand, but Dylan moved the box a little and his finger
appeared in its place with a raised warning finger.
“Remember, little girl,” he began seriously, with a slight lisp through the cigar in his
mouth. – Today we celebrate together, so we make an exception. However, if I normally
see you drunk or with a cigar or a pipe, I will scream at you. Seriously, Hailie, I'm going
to do a drama for you. Nothing has changed. You're still a little sister and I'm still
watching over you, okay?
– Dylan, I'm an adult now.
– Alcohol and tobacco are stimulants and you shouldn't use them unless your older
brother tells you otherwise, capisci?
– Okay, now. - I rolled my eyes, and Dylan stared at me a moment longer, then lifted
his chin, narrowed his eyes, and finally offered me Vincent's cigar.
- No no no! – I exclaimed. – I know how to show it better! I've already played it!
– If you don't mature, you will lose access to your accounts

banking,” Shane said, lowering his voice as much as possible.
- How old are you? Get serious, start studying - Tony hissed,
and a cloud of smoke spread around his head and he blew it out of his mouth.
“Father won't be happy,” Dylan interjected, wagging his finger again.

this time to no one in particular.
– You're weak, I'll play Vince the best – I said and stood up,
to prove it.
Holding my cigar in one hand, I glanced briefly at Dactyl, checking that
he was asleep and safe. He lay comfortably, but looked at me disapprovingly,
as if he didn't approve of my antics. I winked at him to let him know
everything was fine and started climbing onto the desk.
“Oh, you're going to fail,” Dylan growled at me, immediately stretching out his hands,
to keep me safe.
“I won't,” I muttered, putting my feet on the counter.
– You'll do it.
– There will be crying.
“I won't,” I repeated and straightened up. I swayed for a moment and

had to squint because I had never seen Vince's office from this height
before. I felt Dylan's hand tighten on my calf to help steady me.
None of my brothers approved of my idea of crawling on the furniture,

but I definitely managed to make them laugh when I put on my show. Tony
turned red with laughter and Shane had to stop eating, crumpled up the
bag of chips, set it aside, and doubled over himself.
“She's good,” Dylan admitted, still laughing.
“Get out of my sight and don't show your face until you get better,” I said
as coldly as I could.
Shane lifted his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. He had such a
funny expression on his face that my lips began to quiver, even though I
didn't want to, because I wanted my show to be as authentic as possible.
– I can't, Hailie, well, I love you.

I stopped for a moment and looked down at him, but he continued
laughing as if nothing had happened. I glanced discreetly at Tony and
Dylan, but I didn't see any surprise or even mockery from them either.
These words were so natural and obvious that they no longer impressed anyone.
“I love you too, Shane,” I murmured, my heart warming.

He looked up at me and winked, and after a moment I snapped out of it when I
realized the others were glancing at me, hoping I'd goof around a bit more.
I immediately put on my appropriate Vince mask and put it on

I grabbed my cigar and growled coldly,
"Dear child, are you enjoying this?"
Dylan let go of me for a moment because he had to rub his eyelids, which were
probably starting to sting because tears were gathering under them.
I tried not to laugh so as not to spoil my performance, so I tried to calm myself down
by sucking on a cigar. I told you I'd play it the best. I pushed my hair behind my back
and looked, proud of myself, at the faces of my brothers – Shane, Dylan, Tony, Vince…
Vince’a.
I looked back to where I thought I saw Vince's face. I was sure I was imagining it,
but no, he was standing in the doorway, himself. He stood and looked straight at me as
I danced on his desk, drunk and surrounded by gray smoke, with a cigar in my hand,
parodying him.
I lost my balance and staggered, but then Dylan came in handy and held me again,
and then the boys saw where I was looking and started turning there too.
There was silence.
Shane shifted in his seat, Dylan straightened up and held me tighter, and Tony
flattened himself on the couch even more, probably wanting her to engulf him.
Vincent stood still in the doorway, dressed all in black. His hair was traditionally
combed back and his eyes were sharp as a razor. There was also a look of tiredness
on his face, but it seemed to have disappeared now.
Will was standing right behind him. He didn't even try to control his shock.
His mouth hung open and his blue eyes stared at me as if they were seeing
me for the first time.
I lowered the hand that held the cigar, even though everyone had already seen it. There
was also a gray cloud floating around the office. I planned to get off the desk and run away,
but at the same time I didn't want to draw attention to myself, and if I started scrambling
downstairs, the opposite would surely happen.
No one had the courage to break the silence. It was uncomfortable, and our
oldest brother skillfully stressed us out.
Finally Vincent took a step forward. One, then another, until he passed us
and reached the bar. There, he looked at its missing contents with a disgruntled
look and took out a glass. His movements were as unhurried and graceful as
ever. He poured himself a whiskey, tilted his head back and exhaled quietly.
Then he took a sip and slowly turned to us.
We all watched him with interest. Nobody knew how he would react. He
looked at us with an icy gaze, which finally stopped at Dactyl. The kitten felt our
family atmosphere phenomenally and probably already knew that you shouldn't
mess with Vince, because he hid his face in the blanket and kind of pretended
he wasn't there.
Vincent narrowed his eyes.
– You were supposed to give back this cat.
And just like that, we suddenly knew we had gotten away with it.
We relaxed as if by magic.
Shane started chomping loudly, Tony yawned, Dylan drank, and Will moved
towards me at the same time I started explaining to Vince that Dactyl was now
part of the family. Vincent was frowning, irritated by my tangled tongue. I
stopped when Will stood at the desk and held out his hands to me.
“Come on, or you'll fall,” he said quietly, shaking his head.

– I won't fall.
“I can't watch you wobble.
I came to the conclusion that he was right, I was indeed wavering and maybe
it was time to leave the stage after all. I was blushing a little from the burning
alcohol and the fact that Vince had probably heard me imitating him.
Will lifted me easily, but when he set me down on the floor, I didn't move away
from him. I looked at his tanned face and kind eyes.
– You came! - I was happy.

“Of course it is,” he replied, but he was still serious and approached the situation he
found here with some distance. – I wanted to see you before you run away to Spain. I didn't
think you'd spend the evening like this.
I bit my lower lip to be as innocent as possible

respond to his slightly stern look.
– Dylan let me.
– Watch out for that cigar.
– Don't take him away from me. Is mine. – I hid them behind my back.
– I won't take it away, but don't swing it like that and be careful, you'll burn yourself.
“And the cigar is mine, I dare say,” Vince interjected coldly.

I didn't answer because he was right.
Will brushed a strand of hair out of my face and looked at me carefully, then
sighed.
– Little one, I'm not ready for this.
I didn't know how to act and it seemed like a great idea
taking a drag from his cigar, and Will raised an eyebrow and shook his head again.
“Go, you'd better sit down,” he instructed me, gently pushing me towards him
Vince's chair, which he guessed I occupied.
“Okay,” I replied, walking over to the desk and nudging the lamp on it, which
moved noisily.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vincent close his eyes.
A chuckle escaped me.
Vincent and Will sat down on the couch that Dylan and the security guard had provided.
That couch in the hall outside Vince's office, the exact same one I used to
hide behind when I was younger and just discovering the secrets hidden by
the brothers and the Monet Manor.
There were two bottles of poured whiskey and a wooden box containing
Vince's cigar collection floating around the room. No one was smoking any at
the moment, because the food had finally arrived and now there were boxes
of pizza lying all over the place. As usual, Dylan ordered way too many portions.
We talked non-stop. I talked about my home education and how it went
well with traveling. And when Will talked about his stay in Miami, I kept adding
something, because since I stayed with him for almost two months in the
summer, I felt I could afford to supplement his statements. We all had the
opportunity to visit the fabulous villa where he lived, but only I spent enough
time there to discover the best restaurants and beaches.
Vince, being secretive as ever, couldn't answer our questions about his
new role as a father. He said the baby only eats and sleeps, but when I
pressed him, he admitted that he was adorable. Once, he even received a
call from Anja, who was visiting her mother today and had just returned to the
residence. She was tired, so she went straight to bed and promised to say
hello to everyone at breakfast the next day.
I was almost sure she didn't want to disturb us either - the six of us had less
and less opportunities to see each other together, but also without additional
people.
Of course, we still met often, because in this family distances were covered
by private jets and money was never an issue, but I appreciated Anja's
generosity.
Shane gushed about how he loves Italian food and is happy to study in
this country because he eats at delicious restaurants every day. Tony
appreciated Berlin's artistic side out loud, and Dylan boasted that he had
taken more than just classes this semester.
in English, but also in Spanish, which was supposed to require more work from
him, but he claimed that "he can handle it because his Spanish is awesome."
Sometimes I noticed Will and Vincent glance at us, their younger siblings, with
indulgence. We were slowly becoming more and more unbearable, but there was
something beautiful about the evening we spent together drinking whiskey in
Vincent's office.
At one point, when Vince started complaining about the cat again, I stood up,
picked up Dactyl, and placed him on his chest.
Vince started and tore it from his shirt in irritation, lifting the animal in his open arm
so that the cat was centimeters from his face. He squinted and looked carefully into
the blue eyes filled with sweetness and innocence.
I swear I saw my oldest brother swallow. His face was still stern as he told me
to take Dactyl from my hand, but he didn't bring up the topic of throwing the cat out
of the house again.
At midnight the boys sang Happy Birthday to me, and then we sat there for a long
time, stuffing ourselves with pizza. Vince's whiskey supply was running low, but I
guess in the end he wasn't too angry about it. Even he enjoyed the time the Monet
siblings spent together.
The next day we drank a lot of water, and Anja joined us for breakfast, as
promised. I also said goodbye to the baby, and until I left, I looked through the gifts
that came to our residence by mail on the occasion of my birthday. They were
mostly flowers - mostly various bouquets of roses, although there were also pink
daisies among them, which I thought about for a moment before closing my suitcase
and leaving the residence in the company of the holy trinity.
I experienced the most wonderful party of my life in Spain, and there were even
more to come. I finally got to enjoy time with my brothers so much that I could keep
up with them and have fun.
I was happy. And I secretly believed that this was the happiness life had in mind
I have even more in store.
And when there were moments when I felt bad, when dark memories
from the past caught me in their clutches, when sad thoughts or
memories sometimes came to me, when I had a bad moment... I went
to the children's bedroom, sat in the rocking chair next to the bed and
relaxed. while watching Vincent's napping daughter.
You&YA
MUZA SA
ul. Sienna 73
00-833 Warsaw
tel. +4822 6211775

e-mail: info@muza.com.pl
Online bookstore: www.muza.com.pl
Electronic version: MAGRAF sp.j., Bydgoszcz

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Dylan stared at her in disbelief, but also a pinch of fear, it seemed to

– Wait, wait… – Dylan looked at the floor, thinking hard.

Dylan blinked, unused to hearing so many threats at once.

- What? – he gasped, almost spitting.

snatch. Unfortunately, it was just a false impression.

If I can survive this "later".

– Hailie. – It was Dylan who hissed at me in warning. – Stop.

My heart trembled as I wrapped my arms around her stocky figure, hidden

“I'm sorry,” she whispered.

She didn't have a knife in her hand.

I let out a long breath that seemed to last forever.

- NO! You'll bleed out!

- NO!!! – he let out a panicked cry. His face hovered above

Dylan placed his hand on my wound, causing it to rip through my body

“Wait, hold on, wait…” he panicked and cried.

– EY!!! – he shouted at me when my eyes closed. He jerked me around in his

Exit, where is the exit...?!

There was a garage there, right?

I thoughtlessly stretched out my hand and at the last moment I snapped my

Dylan turned to him.

– Please, damn it, please! – Dylan shouted.

“It hurts,” I moaned.

It was night. Another reason to fall asleep.

navigate to the nearest hospital.

Something was pressing into my wound, something was missing from

- Gate? Is the gate open...? – I groaned.

“I think I'm dying,” I muttered.

– They were, Dylan.

-I don't want it to hurt...

“Remember…” I gasped, trying to form a sentence. – … when I visited Maya and

– Then we went to a party and… got drunk.

– Maya knows what's good.

I frowned not only from effort, but also from surprise.

– We also smoked… then… a cigar…

Because I didn't know yet that I would die myself.

There was a hiss as Dylan took a sharp, deep breath.

I felt his hand on my cheek. This time he didn't pinch me

I heard what he said too.

My last thought was that at least Dylan was going to die

Just once, I'm begging you.

In his desperation, Vincent reportedly threatened doctors. Dylan was

Third time lucky.

I was scared of something.

“It hurts,” I sobbed, staring at him with teary eyes.

-Sonny? – I croaked. I looked at Will, and when he looked down, I looked at

“Sonny's dead,” Vince said, bravely holding my pained gaze.

The boys looked at each other.

I felt a painful twinge in my heart.

“We know you're sorry you couldn't be there…” he added hastily

After this exchange, I realized that I was actually starving.

– He drove home for a moment, as he said.

and where are Tony and Shane?

– They went to get food.

The officers raised their eyebrows.

– Mhm, I'll be a fucking angel. – My father winked at me while he was being

From the moment I woke up from the coma, I refused to be touched.

I trusted my brothers, but my relationship with my father was something special.