Page 32 of Broken & Bound

My heart hurt, and my mind spiraled in a thousand directions at once. The reality was it would be stupid for me to get my hopes up. He’d hate the idea, and a part of me knew he’d push back. It didn’t stop the little girl in me wanting to hear his voice.

Needing something—anything—to break the quiet that had swallowed Pasha and me, I spoke. “We’ll need to tell Mrs. Hawthorne about the doll room.”

“I have a feeling she won’t be too mad. With her beliefs and all,” Pasha replied, his grip steady on the wheel.

Before I could answer, my phone lit up and the call was announced on the car’s Bluetooth.

Incoming call from Sebastian James Caruso.

My heart lurched, but I tempered it. He would be angry. I stared at his name for half a second before bracing myself. Best to get it over with.

“What?” I said, sharper than I intended.

“There is no way in hell you’re using Nonno and Nonna’s money to buy that fucking property.”

No greeting. No build-up. Just straight to it. Yup. No surprise. Pasha cleared his throat and threw a glance my way. I pushed my bangs out of my face as heat flared hot and fast.

My jaw tightened, my teeth pressed together so hard it almost hurt. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re not tying their legacy to that place. Not happening.”

Anger rose quick, and familiar. “It’s not your decision to make, Sebastian James. It’s mine. That money was left to me—”

“Isabella Rose, I’m going to need you to listen and listen carefully to me—”

“Yeah, pretty sure you not the boss of me, brother. I am a grown ass woman. I’ll buy whatever the fuck I want with my money,” I hissed, my heart hammering a wild beat.

The absolute nerve of him. Pasha didn’t glance my way this time, but his hand shot out and found mine. He rubbed circles on my palm, trying to calm me down.

“For fuck’s sake, can you stop being a damn brat for one second and let me finish?” Sebastian cut in, his tone dropping just enough to slice clean through mine.

I blinked. The edge in me didn’t disappear, but it faltered. “A brat?” I repeated incredulously. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

“Yeah, I am,” he muttered. “But once again you aren’t listening. Let me know when you’re done ranting so I can speak.”

That set me off once again, and after swearing in every language I knew, calling him every vile, nasty name I could think of, the asshole chuckled. Pasha’s ears had turned red four insults back. I took a deep breath, ready to launch into another tirade.

“Are you done yet?” my brother asked.

I huffed, trying to still my racing heart. Silence stretched between us, I’d run out of steam. He was lucky.

“Fine,” I snapped. “Say whatever it is you think is going to change my mind. But just know you are wasting your breath.”

Another pause. Then he said something I would never, in a thousand years, have expected.

“I already put in an offer.”

Everything in me stilled. “What?”

“All cash,” he continued, like this was nothing. Like he hadn’t just upended the entire conversation. “Mrs. Hawthorne accepted it instantly. No questions asked.”

Instantly I felt small and couldn’t find my voice. Tears filled my eyes again, and all the animosity I’d been clinging to deflated. My grip tightened around the picture in my hands, my thoughts scrambling to catch up with what he’d just said.

The world beyond the windshield blurred. The trees, road, sky, none of it mattered. My brother had put in an offer. A cash one. For me. The realization left me dizzy. He’d done the complete opposite of what I’d expected.

He’d stepped in and carried the weight before I ever had the chance. The realization of what he had done, and why, broke me. My hand flew to my mouth to stifle the noise it unleashed.

“Sissy?”