Chapter 28: Olivia
“What the hell are you doing here?”
The sound of Davis’s uncharacteristic yell startles me awake, but the noise is nothing compared to the abject confusion I experience when I see Kieran Ridgeway standing in Davis’s bedroom. It’s been over eight years since the last time I saw him, but he hasn’t changed much. Still put together and polished, he has this look of smug satisfaction on his face as his eyes flick dangerously between Davis and me like a flame nearing the end of a detonator string on a stick of dynamite.
“I have so many questions,” Kieran offers slowly, pulling up his arms across his chest as he speaks. His tone doesn’t match the obvious rage pulsing through Davis as he feels around the floor beside the bed for his pants. “Just an unbelievable number of questions.”
Finally clothed, Davis rises and crosses the room in a couple of strides. With both hands, he shoves Kieran out into the hallway before he slams the door behind them.
I’m left staring at the door with my mouth agape, still dumfounded at what has just transpired. The room rings eerily silent until the muffled shouts begin somewhere in the apartment. My shock keeps me in bed for a few more minutes. Once I catch my bearings, I dress and then try to listen through the doorway. I can only catch snippets because Davis is doing that thing where he paces back and forth across the room.
I called you a thousand times.
I told you to leave me alone.
Dad wanted me to come stay with you—
Bullshit. Dad would never.
Don’t try to distract from the fact that she is in your bed, Davis.
She. That’s me.
I choose that moment to emerge from the bedroom and make an appearance in the living room, where Davis is now standing by the fireplace and Kieran is seated comfortably on the couch. Both brothers grow silent when they see me, matching sets of brown eyes following my movements as I tentatively enter the sitting area.
“I’m going to go,” I explain, gesturing towards the front door.
“Don’t go,” Davis protests as he takes a step closer to me and then stops suddenly like he’s remembering that Kieran is there. He shoots a glance in Kieran’s direction that would have made Voldemort himself cower. “If anyone needs to go, it’s him. I don’t even know how the hell he got in here—”
“Your doorman let me in. I’m your brother, after all,” Kieran chimes in with a haughty look on his face.
“Not my brother,” Davis murmurs under his breath, which makes Kieran let out an extended sigh.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, raising his chin at Davis. “Davis wills it, so now it’s true. I’m your brother, asshole. If you weren’t so sensitive—”
“I’m never trusting you again,” Davis interjects, finally turning to face Kieran. His voice is sharper than I’ve ever heard it. “I don’t know why you’re here and I don’t give a shit. I told you years ago: We’re done.”
Done. Hearing the finality in Davis’s tone, the seriousness of his falling out with Kieran finally strikes me. It’s so much more severe than he made it sound when he told me that his relationship with Kieran changed after Amsterdam. Changed? It was clearly destroyed—reduced to a fine powder and spread to the wind.
Because of me.
Countless times, the world tried to drive wedges between Charlie and me. It was a wonder that our relationship didn’t crumble from the pressure. There were so many threats. When it comes to Davis and Kieran, I’m a wedge. I’m a threat.
A lump forms in my throat as I look between these two brothers—men who grew up together and now operate as no more than strangers, if not antagonists.
Kieran meets my eyes, his expression confused and serious all at once. He tightens his brow lightly before he lets his shoulders relax. “You, of all people,” he mutters, the words tinged with disgust.
When he sees his brother looking at me, Davis practically springs between us. “Don’t talk to her—”
“Why not?” Kieran demands swiftly, shooting a glare at Davis. “Olivia and I have had plenty of good talks before.”
“Enough. I’m going to go,” I repeat as I head towards the door. Head is an understatement though; I move so quickly that I’m practically jogging.
Davis follows me and when he catches me by the front door, his expression shifts into disappointment—briefly. Another glance at Kieran sitting stonily on his couch, his posture tight like he’s braced for a fight, is enough to make Davis realize that this is how it has to be.
“I’ll call you,” he promises, giving me a remorseful, lingering look.
But I’m not quite sure why he feels so much remorse when he’s the only one without fault in this situation.
When I get to work the next morning, I present to Lana and her team first-thing. It feels like a real capstone, where she has booked a conference room and ordered coffee and I have to stand at the front of the room with my PowerPoint deck projected on the massive wall-mounted television behind the head of the table. By the end of it, I feel surprisingly calm, as if presenting like this is completely natural. As she’s leaving the conference room, Lana squeezes my shoulder reassuringly—the universal tacit sign of a good job.
I practically float back to my office, trying to suppress the urge to text Davis and tell him how well it went. My delight is short-lived, however: Kieran is in my office, waiting for me.
“Hey there,” he says from my chair as soon as I walk in. “Busy?”
I am, but I know I can’t say that to him. Stoically, I close the door behind me and motion for him to get out of my seat.
To my surprise, he actually does it. He makes himself at home in the chair on the other side of my desk. “Well, this is cozy,” he murmurs, all sarcasm. “I take it you’ve seen Davis’s office. It’s much bigger than this one.” Kieran smirks widely, showing the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how nefarious he can be.
“He deserves it,” I contend, working to keep my tone even as I reattach my laptop to its adapter dock.
Kieran cocks an eyebrow, looking equal parts handsome and heinous. “Oh, you can’t believe that, can you? I mean, do I have to remind you what our last name is? Surely you’ve heard of a thing called nepotism.”
“Davis works incredibly hard,” I reiterate.
A sigh. “You think so?”