Page 16 of My Fixation

The two of them going back and forth has turned into its own kind of war, one that the rest of us just sit back and watch because it’s too ridiculous not to enjoy. Ollie adores all of us, especially my parents, with Liam being the exception. He has now made it his life’s mission to win Ollie over.

“Look, kid, I brought you a new teddy bear,” Liam says, holding out the oversized thing like it’s some grand peace offering, the stuffed animal nearly as big as Ollie himself.

Ollie takes it. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t react. He just keeps his eyes locked on Liam, steady and unblinking, before deliberately dropping the bear onto the floor without a hint of hesitation. Just that cold, assessing stare. I swear the kid is a psychopath, just like the rest of us. I laugh under my breath at the exchange, and that’s all it takes.

Ollie’s head snaps toward me, his entire expression shifting in an instant, a big, goofy grin spreading across his face as he takes off in my direction with surprising speed for someone his size.

“Up,” he demands, arms already reaching, voice full of authority like the tiny dictator he is.

I bend down without thinking, scooping him up easily before tossing him into the air, the movement smooth and controlled as I catch him again and immediately repeat it. His giggles fill the room, loud and bright, cutting through everything else as he throws his head back, completely unbothered by the height.

“I know he likes that, but it gives me heart palpitations every time,” Colton says, watching me like I’ve lost my mind. “It’s bad enough that you’re seven feet tall, but you’re throwing him ten feet in the air.”

“Six nine, not seven,” I correct automatically, tossing Ollie up once more before catching him securely. “And it’s closer to nine feet.”

“Like that matters,” Colton shoots back, shaking his head. “What’s a foot difference when you’re over hard tile floors?”

“I’m not going to drop him,” I say, completely certain of that fact as I lift him one last time before setting him back down on his feet.

I never used to think about kids. Not really. They were never part of the picture for me. Never something I let myself consider, but Ollie changed that without me even realizing it.

The thought comes out of nowhere, uninvited. Does Jaxon like kids? I glance around the room, at the chaos, at the noise, at the way everyone fits together in their own strange way, and I can’t help but wonder. How would he fit into this? The thought lingers for half a second before it’s cut off.

“What the fuck, Ollie?” Liam jerks back, stepping away as everyone’s attention shifts, and that’s when I see it, the bold red marker streaks running down the front of his pants like a crime scene.

“Liam, language,” Mom says sharply from across the room. “I will not warn you again tonight.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Liam says quickly, though his focus is still on the damage. “But do you see what he just did to my pants?” He looks over at Ronan, clearly expecting backup. “You really need to control your spawn.”

“Why?” Ronan replies, completely unbothered, a hint of pride in his voice. “He executed his mission perfectly. You never saw him coming, even though it was obvious to everyone else in the room.” He glances down at Ollie like he’s impressed.

“Besides, it’s washable markers. We already learned our lesson about permanent ones.”

“These are fu—” Liam cuts himself off, dragging in a breath before he can finish the word. “Tom Ford pants.”

“So buy a new pair and accept the lesson,” Ronan says, not even trying to hide his amusement. “You let your guard down around your sworn enemy and paid for it.”

The room erupts again, laughter bouncing off the walls, and I shake my head, but I can’t help the small grin that pulls at my mouth. Because, as chaotic as it is, this is still home and family.

Franklin, our private chef, announces that dinner is ready, his voice carrying easily through the house. We all start moving toward the dining room in a familiar flow that has been the same for years, a routine so ingrained that no one has to think about it. Or at least, it used to be. Now there are more chairs filled, more voices layered into the noise, and Ollie’s highchair sits at the end of the table like a small yet undeniable symbol that things are changing whether any of us expected it or not.

I take my usual seat to the left of Dad, the place that has always been mine, the unspoken claim of being the oldest, something no one has ever questioned.

Plates are passed. Food is served. Conversation picks up in pieces around the table as everyone starts eating, the normal rhythm settling in. I wait just long enough to not draw immediate attention, then lean slightly toward Dad.

“The name Manny Duluga mean anything to you?” I ask quietly.

Dad doesn’t hesitate. “Pissant,” he says immediately, cutting into his roast like the name barely registers as worth the effort. “He’s supposed to be some kind of capo or underboss of a wannabe mafia organization, but really he’s just running a bunch of half-assed thugs.”

He takes a bite, chewing as he watches me, measuring.

“Loan shark. Drugs. Small-time operations,” he continues after swallowing. “Nothing big enough to be on our radar yet.” A pause. “Why?”

“He’s messing with an acquaintance of mine,” I reply, keeping my tone even, casual enough not to raise alarms. “I want more information on him.”

None of what Dad says surprises me. Not really. I already did some digging after I found out Henry was tied to Manny, but I still haven’t figured out exactly where Jaxon fits into it. That part still doesn’t make sense.

“Does this have anything to do with the guy you’re stalking?” Finn cuts in, his voice carrying just enough to draw attention.