“Weren’t you?” Arden pressed. “No rules apply to you, do they? You think you can flash your money, and the answer will always beyes.”
“Arden—”
“My art isn’t something to be controlled.I’mnot something to becontrolled.” She tapped the screen on her phone, and ear-splitting rock filled the speakers again. “You know the way back to the main house.”
Arden turned back to the canvas, dismissing me entirely. And I didn’t blame her. I’d royally stepped in it.
I glanced down at the gray beast standing between us. The dog glared up at me as if to say, “Get moving, pal.” I didn’t blame him.
Sighing, I stepped into the late-morning sun. It was already at least eighty and would soon be tipping even hotter. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I slid it out.
Philip Pierce
We have not received your RSVP for your sister’s wedding. Please rectify this immediately.
The slap of the text was a visceral thing. Far worse than the sting of Arden’s blade against my neck. My back teeth ground together as I stared at the words. It was a jerk on an invisible choke collar, and we both knew it.
The DNA donor known as my father was used to getting what he wanted by any means necessary. It was why he’d cut me off at age eighteen when I refused to follow in his footsteps. It was why my sister bowed to his every whim, even down to choosing the man she was set to marry in a matter of weeks. And it was why my mom no longer drew breath.
It didn’t matter how much I loved Ellie and wanted her to know I was there for her no matter what. I couldn’t spend a week at our estate in the Hamptons pretending I didn’t hate Philip Pierce with every fiber of my being.
I locked my phone, shoved it into my pocket, and breathed deeply. The scent of pine trees and fresh air filled my lungs. As I looked around at the place Cope had carved out for himself in the world, I understood why he’d chosen to build here.
The vastness and wide-open spaces reminded me to breathe, which was exactly why I was going to build my next chapter here. Away from the pressures of the city, my father, and everything else.
5
ARDEN
I scowledat the canvas as strains of one of my favorite bands pounded through the speakers. Usually, I could count on an old favorite to get me into my creative headspace. But not this time.
The canvas stared back at me, its blank spaces taunting me. It was all Lincoln Pierce’s fault. He’d come to my studio yesterday looking more like some dark, avenging angel than a billionaire business magnate. When I tried to focus on work, all I could see was his stupid smirk and how it made a dimple pop in his cheek.
My phone buzzed on the table for the dozenth time. I let out a growl of frustration, slammed my brush down, and picked up the device. Sliding my thumb up the screen, I unlocked it and tapped the text icon with twenty-three alerts.Twenty-three.
I hit the sibling group text chain, reading the first message.Kye has renamed this group My Organ Donors. It was a constant battle between us to one-up each other in renaming it. Well, it was mostly Cope and Kyler. But that wasn’t a surprise. Those two had gotten into more trouble growing up than the rest of us combined.
Kye
Too much? Your bullet hole still leaking water when you drink, Copey?
Fallon
That’s not funny, Kyler.
I wasn’t surprised that our most tenderhearted sister had jumped in to reel Kye back from the inappropriate edge. She was the only one he’d listen to anyway. He’d come to live with the Colsons at sixteen, furious at the world and two seconds from imploding. Fal had seemed to be the only person who could reach him, and their bond had remained.
Kye
Hey, I helped his ass to the bathroom for a week after surgery. I have earned these jokes.
Cope
No one cleans out a bedpan like you, buddy.
I didn’t want to admit the relief I felt at just seeing Cope’s name in the chat, cracking jokes like always. I could pretend that he was in hockey preseason instead of at some fancy physical therapy place Linc had set him up at.
Me