𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

29. BAD MEMORIES - ✭LUKE✭

Being in this home is a reminder of the ridiculous amount of the money that I come from. I take a sip from the gin and tonic in my hand thinking about how I'd never really liked living here. It was lonely for an only child. Such a big fucking house with no one to share it with but a fucking nanny and a handful of maids. My parents were constantly gone, off on some lavish vacation. They couldn't be bothered with me. Neither of them paid me much attention at all.

I look off to the family portrait on my left and roll my eyes. We were never a perfect family, regardless of what everyone thought. Yes, my parents doted on me but that's only because they didn't have to deal with me ninety-percent of the time. Other people got the responsibility of doing that for them. Other people got to make the man I am, the infamous Lucas Warner the Third. I can't help but roll my eyes again.

It was all just a big fucking joke. A giant fucking charade for everyone but my parents and I. They had to know what shitty parents they were. If they didn't I'd blame it on the endless amount of cocktails they consumed. Because when your son gets perfect grades, is the captain of almost every sport, Mr. Perfect that must mean you're the best parent in the entire world. Wrong.

I take another sip of my drink as I sit back in my chair in the living room. I'm looking out on a pool that has a waterfall flowing out of the second story balcony. Not many people can say they have a waterfall coming out of their house at all times but I can. Well, it was the family home which is now mine, my parents are busy living the rest of their lives on a yacht somewhere. So, this giant fucking behemoth of a house is now mine.

"You're brooding." I hear Malyssa say from off in the distance. "I've never seen you look at this house with such contempt before." Because I fucking hate it here. I also knew if my parents were aware of what I'd done with the man in one of the downstairs bedrooms they'd disown me. They'd probably take one look at him and judge him before they even knew his true deviancy.

"I don't have any real good memories here." I mumble out before taking my final sip.

"No good memories?" She cocks an eyebrow at me as she sits in the chair beside me. "You grew up here. You have to have at least one good memory."

I give a wry laugh and say, "yeah, no. There's no real good memories here. I hated growing up in this house."

"You would hate growing up in a place like this," she scoffs and gets up out of her seat, heading over to the bar. "Multi-million dollar home. The best education money could buy. I mean, better yet, the best of everything money could buy and it still didn't satisfy you." She pours herself a whiskey straight as she shakes her head in agitation. "Doesn't that just sound spot-fucking-on."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I stand up, heading toward the bar as well. I need to refresh my drink, especially if we are having this conversation.

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you fucking kidding me, Luke?" Her brows scrunch together as she shakes her head at me. "I grew up following my mother around from show to show. I slept in dressing rooms. I ate the scraps others couldn't eat because my mother was too busy getting high. You grew up with this." She gestures around us and says, "you still couldn't find any happiness in this?" Her brow furrows incredulously. "That's a fucking joke if I've ever heard one."

"This was all I knew, Malyssa. I didn't know any different." Neither of us chose our upbringings. Neither of us had a choice in who our parents were. It's not my fault they were so different but I know she knows that.

"Yeah, we've already had the conversation." Her statement confirms my previous thoughts. "We don't need to talk about your rich, spoiled-brat syndrome." Her offhandedness somehow infuriates me because she knows me better than that. It's not like she hadn't called me a brat before but right now I feel like she really, truly means that.