Living With The Bad Boy Who Hated Me

A sudden wave of discomfort hit the back of my throat, and I quickly averted my gaze, focusing entirely on the scuff marks on my combat boots. What exactly was she trying to orchestrate here? I could swear a distinct spark of calculated amusement was dancing in her almond-shaped blue eyes. 

"Wow, that's incredibly cool," Tina gushed, turning to nudge me. "Don't you think so, Aya?" 

I opted for total silence, refusing to take the bait. 

"He's currently out of the house at the moment," Linda added seamlessly, "but his schedule usually has him back on the property by seven in the evening." 

I offered a subtle shrug, still staring down at my shoelaces. Ultimately, his arrival time was completely irrelevant to me. Historically speaking, no guy had ever shown even a passing romantic interest in my direction, and it didn't bother me in the slightest. My mother used to consistently remind me that eventually, someone would cross my path who would cherish me entirely for my authentic self. I placed absolute faith in her wisdom. I had no issue playing the long game, regardless of how many years it took. Consequently, the daily schedule of this Callum character couldn't possibly mean less to me. 

Alastair abruptly excused himself from the room when his phone began vibrating against his palm, undoubtedly whispering a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was calling for providing him with a legitimate excuse to catch his breath outside the heavy atmosphere of the mansion. 

Linda seamlessly redirected her attention to Tina, continuing their upbeat banter. She even made an attempt to engage Jamey in standard small talk—which proved to be highly entertaining, given that his contribution consisted entirely of reciting highly specific, random historical data regardless of what question she posed. That was simply the standard operating procedure when attempting to converse with my younger brother. 

While I kept my own contributions brief and avoided asking digging questions, Tina seemed determined to systematically check off every single inquiry on her exhaustive mental list. 

"Callum is fundamentally a wonderful young man," Linda remarked thoughtfully, her tone shifting slightly. "But... well, the reality is that the parental separation impacted him deeply, and his demeanor shifted significantly after the divorce. Still, I hold onto the firm belief that he’ll eventually cross paths with someone capable of grounding him again. I have total faith in that." 

For reasons I couldn't entirely analyze, my head snapped up at her statement. It was likely a knee-jerk reaction to the heavy sensation of her gaze targeting me once more. Why did she consistently lock eyes with me whenever the topic of this boy's emotional rehabilitation came up? I began to seriously wonder if our hostess was missing a few screws. 

Eventually, I hit my absolute limit with the introductory social hour. I stood up from the plush leather sofa, doing my best to stifle a massive yawn that threatened to overpower me. 

"Oh, my goodness!" Linda noted, instantly picking up on the cue. "You all must be completely wiped out after a six-hour road trip. Come along, let me escort you up to your quarters." 

I nodded, offering a tired half-smile. With a swift sequence on her smartphone, Linda summoned a pair of security personnel who promptly gathered our assorted luggage. Alastair and Jamey slipped back into the house, falling into file behind Linda and Tina as we moved toward the main corridor. 

"Wait, do we actually get our own individual bedrooms?" Tina squeaked from the front of the line. "Oh my gosh, how many total rooms are engineered into this place? It feels like an absolute labyrinth." 

I leaned back just enough to throw a sharp, disciplinary glare over my shoulder, silently begging her to dial down the embarrassing display of astonishment. She offered a sheepish smile, shrugging her shoulders while silently mouthing, What did I do? 

"It's perfectly alright," Linda interjected, having easily witnessed the silent sibling exchange. "Her curiosity is completely natural." 

My cheeks instantly flared with a sudden rush of heat, and I gave a stiff nod, training my eyes straight ahead as we reached the foot of a massive, sweeping staircase and began our ascent. 

"To answer your question, Tina—yes, everyone has their own private space. The layout includes roughly twelve bedrooms in total. Additionally, if you follow the sliding glass panels at the rear of the ground floor, it leads directly out to the pool area. You’re more than welcome to head down there once you’ve had a chance to decompress." 

Tina let out a muffled shriek of delight directly behind me. "Thank you so much! I am absolutely hitting the water later." 

That was entirely predictable. My sister didn't suffer from a chronic aversion to revealing swimwear; I, however, absolutely did. The concept of wearing minimal clothing that exposed my skin was an immediate source of intense discomfort for me. I mentally resolved to avoid the pool deck entirely unless I could guarantee absolute solitude out there. 

Linda guided us along the first landing, pointing out two beautifully appointed suites designated for Jamey and Alastair. According to her architectural strategy, she figured the female contingent of the family would appreciate the isolation of the upper level, which featured direct access to an expansive rooftop terrace. Tina was instantly enamored by the setup, and the moment I stepped across the threshold of my assigned quarters, a similar feeling took hold. 

My private room was technically larger than the entire square footage of the house we had occupied back in Charleston. The sheer scale of it felt completely absurd and slightly intimidating. Yet, the moment I spotted the elegant French doors opening onto a quaint, private balcony, my chest swelled with a distinct, comforting warmth. 

"Is the space to your liking?" Linda inquired, a soft smile playing on her lips. 

Tina had been allocated an identical layout at the opposite end of the long corridor, positioned much closer to the primary staircase, leaving my room feeling like it existed in an entirely separate dimension of the estate. But the isolation suited me perfectly. 

I offered a genuine grin and a firm nod. "It’s absolutely breathtaking. Honestly, how could anyone find a reason to complain about this?" 

She stepped up to the exterior railing, mirroring my posture as she looked out over the vast canopy of dense trees and immaculate landscaping defining the perimeter of the property. "Very true," she murmured, her focus shifting toward a rustic, isolated structure situated right at the edge of the dense tree line. 

"What's the story behind that building down there?" I asked, my innate curiosity instantly piqued by the unconventional structure. 

When the silence stretched out a bit too long, I turned my head to find her staring at the cabin with a deeply solemn expression. "That is Callum’s domain," she stated simply, effectively planting a massive seed of intrigue in my mind. 

I refrained from pressing for additional details, instinctively sensing that she had zero intention of expanding on the topic regardless of what I asked. 

"Dinner is traditionally served promptly at six o'clock every evening," Linda noted, shifting back to her operational tone. "However, given your travel schedule tonight, we can easily adjust the timeline to whenever your family feels ready to eat." 

I smiled, arching a single eyebrow in amusement. "Why the sudden flexibility?" 

Linda let out a quiet chuckle, straightening her posture to face me directly. "Friday and Saturday nights are typically reserved for Callum's personal routines, you see. Especially when Mr. Brinkley is traveling internationally. During those windows, he grants the entire domestic staff a complete release from service for forty-eight hours." 

Before I could ask her to clarify exactly what "Callum's personal routines" entailed, the sharp ring of her mobile device cut through the air. 

A massive smile instantly lit up her face as she checked the display. "My husband," she explained, holding up the vibrating device in her perfectly manicured hand. "I suppose I’ll catch up with you all on Sunday morning? Just a reminder, I've left my direct contact information sitting on the main kitchen island. Don't hesitate to ring me if a single issue arises." 

I offered her a deeply grateful smile, and she turned, disappearing down the corridor. 

The afternoon sun was beating down directly onto the balcony, balanced by a crisp, slightly cool breeze while the faint sound of birds echoed from the distant woods. It was the kind of picturesque landscape you wanted to freeze in time and appreciate every single day. 

Turning back toward the interior, I left the French doors wide open, allowing the refreshing mountain air to completely flood my temporary sanctuary. 

I made a half-hearted attempt to unpack a few essential items from my duffel bag, but the sheer weight of the day's journey was catching up to me. A massive yawn forced my eyes to water. Abandoning my self-imposed mandate to remain productive and responsible, I collapsed onto the expansive queen-sized mattress, which was outfitted in crisp white linens and an incredibly soft, powder-blue blanket. 

As the quiet of the massive house settled in, a familiar ache took hold of my chest, and I realized just how desperately I already missed my father.