Page 4 of Feel Free to Scream

“But you wanted the notebook,” Octavia said. “I could tell. Now you can have it, and we match! Open it! Open it!”

Oh, fuck, I’m a little teary for some reason.

It’s stupid, really. But the thing is, I’m not used to presents.

I get one on my birthday and Christmas every year, of course. But as I said, my grandma isn’t rich. Evenshewouldn’t have dropped that much money on a notebook for me.

I unwrap it, and am completely speechless when I see a gift card on top of the notebook.

My gaze returns to Darius.

His blue eyes don’t look away, though he’s still taking on the phone—about finances, by the sound of it. I hear words like market, investment, trend, and stock.

“Octavia,” I say, because I can’t actually thank the person who did purchase all that. “This is too much. It was my absolute pleasure to chat with you for a few minutes; you really didn’t have to get me anything. But I’m very, very grateful.”

“It was my pleasure too! I like you, Claire.”

“I like you right back.”

She wraps her arms around my legs again, squeezes, and runs back to her uncle. He has the sense to take her hand as they walk away.

I stare at the gift card in my hand, and go back in the store for my folders.

2

KELLER

"So, who's the chick?"

I'm not surprised my sister asks the moment her daughter is out of earshot. Octavia's been home for an hour and in that time, she has simply not shut up about Claire. Claire this, Claire that. Does Claire like cake? Would Claire like to ice skate? Do I think she looks more like Sleeping Beauty or Elsa fromFrozen? Fucking hell. Not that I can blame her. That girl is the whole package, from the ribbon in her hair to the tips of her pink ballerina shoes.

Honestly, she'sridiculous. The very idea of any woman waking up some day and deciding to look that sweet is insane. Is she prepping for a Barbie commercial or what?

If you'd asked me yesterday, I absolutely would have said, without hesitation, that I don't do sweet. But fuck, I'd do Claire. She looks like I could break her in two, and I can't help it. I want to. I want to see the pretty, glossy pink lips parted as she chokes on my cock, those gray eyes wide.

No one's ever gotten such a strong reaction from me at first glance without even trying. She didn't flirt. She didn't look at me in any way to suggest she liked what she saw. She was more concerned about my niece than me. Hell, I could tell she was annoyed with me at first, for letting the little terror slip through my fingers. Which I relate to. I certainly was annoyed at myself.

I took Octavia this morning because my sister's dealing with her abusive ex; the divorce is getting nastier by the day, and she needs time. But technically, I work on my investment portfolio on Saturday mornings. I cancelled most of my appointments, but there were some time-sensitive decisions I needed to make. So yeah, I took a couple of calls. And yeah, Vivi is the kind of high-energy, mischievous, spoiled brat we can't leave alone for a second. I say that lovingly, and fully aware that I am the first to spoil her.We should have stayed in the house, really. It would have been safer. But I can't regret my niece's little adventure when it ended so well.

"First time I saw her," I reply, accepting the beer Lisa slides across the counter, taking a swig. "She seems nice."

"My daughter certainly thinks so," my sister muses, shaking her head in disbelief. "And she hates everyone."

I roll my eyes. "She doesn't hateeveryone. She loves me, doesn't she?"

Lisa snorts.

She's thirty-three, eight years my senior. Our mother had her when she was in her early twenties, and penniless. I can't imagine what it must have been like to grow up with Laura Prince as a single mother—particularly a poor one.

I was raised by my father, an ex-model, part owner of a multi-million-dollar fashion brand, and honestly, I had it easy. He might not have been present much, but I had my cousin, and the Goltzes—the sons of dad's business partners—not to mention their parents, as an extended family. My understanding is, Lisa didn't have anyone other than our pretty, flighty mom.

Laura flew in and out of my life, mostly showing up when she needed something.Lisa might be my half-sister, but I only saw her a couple of times until a little over six years ago.

Arlo, my father, always told her she could reach out if he could ever help her, like he would to any extended family, and she smiled, nodded, and never asked for anything. But one day, she showed up at our door, heavily pregnant, needing "a place to crash for a bit." One look at her bruises, and we had her safe inside, with a security team around her twenty-four seven. She's been at the main house since. I can't imagine her anywhere else now.

I was there from the moment Octavia was born. I even picked her name. She might go by Prince, but she's a Keller to us. She even calls my father Dada, at his insistence. We want Lisa's ex nowhere near the two of them—something the lawyers are working through at the moment—so he's her father figure. Frankly, he's doing a better job at it than he did with me, likely because he's now old enough to understand kids.

Being a Keller means having it all. The house, the cars, the clothes. Especially the clothes. We might not be the richest family in Thorn Falls, but that's only because this town is full of billionaires. And through my father's company, we're connected to the Goltzes, anyway.

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