Page 111 of Dallas Rivals

She doesn’t say a word. Just turns in my arms and holds me tight, giving me space to lose myself in her, to remember why I have to keep going.

“Oli…” she gasps softly.

I focus on her face, her eyes heavy with sleep and desire. The most beautiful sight I get to see every damn day.

“I love you,” I whisper against her lips. “Thank you for being here… for being mine.”

I rest my forehead against hers, my movements growing desperate, chasing that edge.

And when we both shatter, she gives me one of those smiles that undo me completely.

“I love you, Oli,” she breathes. “And I’m so proud of you. Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.”

Her words sink deep, silencing my mouth—but filling my chest in a way nothing else ever could.

My three brothers stare at me in silence.

All of them are seated in the living room of my home—because that’s what it finally feels like now. A home, not just a house. We’re alone, and I’m standing in front of them, my voice rough with anger and tears I can’t seem to stop, laying bare the pieces of my past.

Shame burns in my chest, no matter how many times Cala’s told me it wasn’t my fault—that nothing that happened was deserved, that the blame belongs somewhere else.

I’ve heard her. I’ve even believed her.

But deep down, I still feel it—that helplessness, that endless what if…

What if I’d called our parents?

What if I’d asked my brothers for help?

What if I’d fought back?

There are no answers. That wasn’t my reality, but this is.

The present.

The chance to reclaim my name, to put an end to this nightmare, and to finally stop him before he hurts anyone else.

When I finish speaking, silence fills the room like water rising around my throat.

Silas is the first to move. He grabs his head with both hands, elbows braced on his knees.

His voice breaks through the silence, trembling with guilt and pain. “Jesus, Oliver… I—I was supposed to take care of you. I was the one in charge—” His words hang in the air, heavy with regret. He can’t seem to meet my eyes, his head bowed as if the weight of responsibility is pressing down on him, threatening to crush him beneath memories he can’t rewrite. Each syllable is thick with sorrow, his hands clenched tightly in his lap as he fights to hold himself together. The burden of being the eldest, the protector, is too much for him to bear right now, and the anguish in his voice is almost too much for me to hear.

“No.” I cut him off, raising a hand. “The only ones responsible are our parents—for leaving four kids alone for a damn month. Don’t you dare carry that weight, because I don’t.”

Luca gets up, not saying a word, his body tight and shaking with anger. He paces around the living room, restless like a trapped animal. All at once, he grabs his phone and throws it hard against the wall. It breaks, the noise ringing out and leaving a neat hole in the drywall—a perfect snapshot of how furious he is.

I stare down at my palms. Lying there is Cala’s lapis lazuli necklace.

My grandma’s gonna give you strength, she told me last night when we planned this meeting.

I don’t know if I feel strong right now—but I do know my brothers need time to process this in their own ways.

Killian sits still, his tattooed hands clasped, face unreadable.

“I knew it,” he murmurs. We all look at him. “I suspected something. That bastard took control of the house like he owned it and your voice, Oli… I remember hearing you behind the door, upset. I told myself it was the illness, but deep down… I knew something was wrong.”

I nod silently.