The Four Brothers ~ Completed

Capítulo Sete: A Dica

Sorry about my sporadic updates. I've just moved into my college dorm and am now about to start school *panicked shrieking in the distance* and I'm also working on another book that I'm sort of in love with at the moment. My chapters in this book are around 1,000 words, this new book I'm writing is around 5,700 per chapter, which is a big change of pace for me.

I honestly kinda want to do a chapter that long just to show you guys what I'm doing. Let me know if that's something you'd be interested in.

Anywho, sorry again.

Gemma's POV:

Was it wrong for me to imagine smothering my brother with a pillow? I hoped not because I'd been doing it quite often. I loved Damian, I did, but I was going to murder him. Possibly with a pillow, possibly with whatever blunt object I got my hands on first.

"Would you stop?" My patience had worn thin with my brother throwing paper balls at the side of my face as I tried to focus on the book in front of me.

"Nope." He smirked, throwing another one. I'd turned my head just enough for the thing to nail me in the eyes.

I yelped, rubbing at the stinging sensation that brought about tears. Damian was instantly jumping over the couch he was hiding behind, cradling me in his arms as he apologized time and time again.

I hit him repeatedly with my book. He should've been thankful it was paperback but he was too busy complaining about me hitting him in general.

"Would you rather me get my frustrations out now or do you want me to tell Tobias?" I asked with a sweet smile. Damian's eyes widened, face going ashen when he realized I was serious in telling our eldest brother about him hitting me in the eye. Whether or not it was an accident wouldn't matter, as I was the baby and Damian the aggressor.

The joys of being the youngest.

"Fine, you win." Damian grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. I resumed my hitting him, but it was a lot less fun when he wasn't complaining. I knew it didn't hurt him, but it was funny that he was bothered by it in general.

We were both sitting in the kitchen, Damian making something for dinner as Zion had impulsively given the staff the night off. Damian had insisted someone keep him company but Tobias had a sudden business call and Zion remembered that he needed to fetch his dry cleaning from the cleaners. I wasn't sure where Sinclair was, but hopefully he had a better excuse for missing this than the other two.

No wonder I figured out their 'hidden' jobs. They were terrible at secrets.

Anywho, I got dragged from my comfy spot in the library to the kitchen. I was happy so long as I got to bring my book. Damian had gotten bored and started throwing torn up bits of paper towels at my head when something was cooking and he had a five minute break.

He'd turned back to the stove, mixing whatever was in the frying pan.

"What did you do with the ten million you stole from the cartel?" Damian asked, breaking the silence. I glanced up from my chapter with a sigh, keeping in mind my page number before shutting the book.

It took maybe fifteen seconds for my brain to freak out, making me think I'd lost the page or remembered the wrong number, so I opened the book once more and confirmed my spot. I snatched a halfway torn up paper towel and used it as a bookmark, happily shutting the book and moving it to the side.

"Well, seven million went to different charities in increments of $9,900 so it didn't get flagged by the I.R.S. The other three million went into several bank accounts under false names in Sweden." I explained, smiling at the pride shining in Damian's eyes.