Finding Family, Finding Love

Chapter 7

Elliot

Uugggh, the morning sun shouldn't be wasted on such a petty exercise as shopping. But my brothers seem to think that I don't quite fit into their league of luxury, so they've decreed that I need a wardrobe overhaul.

Apparently, they missed the memo where I declared myself financially unconscious and unable to spend a single penny. I mean, what part of I'm broke and happy about it do they not understand?

My wallet is on life support, and I'm not looking to flatline it just yet

Newsflash: their Gorgio Armanis and Italian suits aren't exactly my style. I mean, can't I just stick to my trusty old band tees and ripped jeans?

But no, my brothers are determined to drag me into the world of high fashion, whether I like it or not.

And school... oh, for the love of all things holy! I hate that place with every fiber of my being.

But my fate is sealed. I'm doomed to return to that abyss next week. And, to add insult to injury, I'll have to don the dreaded uniform, a constant reminder of my academic imprisonment.

It's like they're trying to suffocate my soul. Can't I just wear my black band tees and ripped jeans to class? Please, universe, have mercy on me.

But no, my brothers are thrilled to be dragging me back into the depths of educational despair.

They're probably plotting to buy me a tie and a blazer to complete the look of utter despair.

Spare me, Lord! I'll take a bullet to the brain over a calculus textbook any day.

We're embarking on a shopping spree of epic proportions, courtesy of my brothers' bottomless pit of wealth.

I mean, these guys are so loaded, their great-great-grandkids will be able to retire comfortably without ever lifting a finger.

As we pull up to the mall in our sleek Koenigsegg Agera (because, why not?), Eduardo's grinning like a Cheshire cat behind the wheel, Santiago's riding shotgun, and I'm lounging in the backseat with Matteo, feeling like royalty. We're not just arriving in style, we're making a statement, 'We're Here, We're Rich, And We're Ready To Blow Some Cash!'

All eyes are on us, their gazes fixed like magnets, drawn to the spectacle we've created. It's as if time has stood still, and the only movement is the subtle tilt of heads, the slight raise of eyebrows, and the whispered murmurs of wonder.

Some might be jealous, others intrigued, but all are captivated by the sheer force of our presence.

With a flick of his wrist, Eduardo opens the doors, and they emerge like peacocks spreading their tail feathers. My brothers may as well be bathing in gold coins like Scrooge McDuck.

I feel like a mismatched puzzle piece. My slender frame seems out of place amidst the muscle-bound figures of my brothers, their bulging biceps and physiques honed from countless hours in the gym.

My clothes, too, appear ill-fitting, my slender legs and arms swimming in the oversized fabric, which is apparently Matteo's. Despite the grand arrival, I can't help but feel like a small, awkward satellite orbiting a planet of giants.

And guess what I spot as we enter the mall? Guards. Oh, they tried to blend in, but their black suits are about as subtle as a neon sign screaming 'open' on the bar to my right. They're lurking around every corner, looking like they're ready to pounce on any unsuspecting shopper who dares to glance at my brothers' precious credit cards.

I mean, seriously, what's going on here? Do my brothers think they're royalty or something? Do they need a personal army to protect them from the rabble? It's like they're expecting a siege or something.