CHAPTER 28: CHAOS IN BRAXTON RESIDENCE

–Carrie–

I stayed in my bedroom for days after the incident. I cut off all contact with Richard. I was humiliated. And it hurt—more than anything—that my grandparents and my father started looking at me differently. The only one I still had was my mother. But even she was part of the plan from the very beginning.

"You need to eat." My mother placed a tray on the table and pulled open the curtains.

"Close it!" I hissed.

She drew them halfway, letting in just a sliver of light from outside.

"It seems our plan didn’t work," she said calmly. "I never imagined Livana would be this perceptive. She’s insightful—just like Ines was."

I stared at her, trying to read her expression. She was still so composed, like none of this fazed her.

"Do you even care about me?" I asked.

"Sweetheart," she said, stepping closer and brushing her hand against my cheek, "you’re my daughter. Of course I care—more than anything in this world."

I turned my face away. "It’s the Blackwells," I whispered. "It’s Laura... Livana is blind, Mother."

"She may be blind, but she’s not deaf. And she certainly isn’t powerless. She commands people. She doesn’t get her hands dirty." My mother sighed, sitting beside me and stroking my hair. "Maybe you should go abroad for a while. It would be best—for now. New York? Paris? Anywhere you like. You can come back once things settle down."

I froze when a sharp knock interrupted us. The door opened and Grandma Olivia stepped in. I thought—maybe—she’d offer some comfort. Instead, she tossed a clear plastic envelope onto the bed.

"Pack your things. You’re leaving the country tomorrow. Switzerland. There’s an apartment waiting for you. It’s been arranged."

"Grandma..." I looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. She was really sending me away?

"Don’t come back until everything’s settled. And forget about contacting the Knox family—you’re cut off. This time, don’t do anything reckless. I’ll have someone monitor your every move."

I broke into sobs, the disappointment on her face cutting deeper than her words.

"Madam," a voice called from the hallway.

I looked toward the door. A woman stood there—hair in a high ponytail, cat-eye glasses perched on her nose, a tablet in hand. Grandma’s assistant.

"Miss Livana called. She’s inviting everyone to a family dinner tonight. She’s even sent a private chef."

"Well, that’s... unexpected," my mother murmured.

A family dinner? What could possibly be waiting for us there?

"Don’t let Livana see your face," Grandma warned, pointing at me.

"Actually," the assistant added, "she specifically asked that everyone attend."

A chill ran down my spine. Something felt wrong. But maybe... just maybe... it was better than staying locked up here, drowning in shame.

"Then," Grandma said coldly, turning back to me, "dress appropriately for dinner. Casey, make sure you and your daughter are on your best behavior." She closed the door behind her without another word.

She hadn’t always been this cold—at least, not until Aunt Ines died. After that, something changed. They called it an accident, but Grandma’s warmth disappeared with her. I always envied Laura and Livana. She cared so much for them. Maybe out of guilt.

I sniffled, wiping away my tears. My mother was glaring at the door, her jaw clenched.

"Come on, sweetheart," she said. She stepped into the bathroom, then opened the pink fridge in the corner and pulled out a container of ice. After twisting my hair up with a clamp, she led me to the sink—a sleek glass basin filled with icy water.

"Get ready, okay?" she said gently. "You can still show your cousins that you’re stronger than this."

I was tired. I’m so tired. I didn’t want to get up at all.

–Laura–

It’s Saturday, and honestly, the best day after a long week of work. I turned to Damien, who was sleeping like a baby beside me. Typical. I slipped out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom for my morning routine. A good ice soak for my face, followed by brushing my teeth. It takes me about half an hour to get through everything, and that’s just the basics. I washed up a little, put on a comfy house dress, and realized I’d forgotten to open the curtains.

As soon as I did, Damien groaned and hurled a pillow at me.

"Close the damn curtains," he grumbled, burying himself deeper under the duvet.

"It’s Saturday," I announced like a town crier, "and we’ve been here for four days since the whole mess with your cousin Brandon. Today is the big day—Livana’s introducing your cousin to the family."

I opened the windows to air the room out and switched off the AC in favor of the ceiling fan. Then I clapped my hands loudly. "Get up, Damien!"

He groaned again, threw off the duvet, and dragged himself into the bathroom.

A moment later, I heard, "What’s with the ice bowl?"

"You can use it for your face. Mine’s already soaked, so... you’re welcome." I sat down with my notebook and checked over my to-do list. But at the bottom, there was a note that definitely wasn’t in my handwriting.

Have sex with Damien

I stared. Then I looked at the bathroom door like it had betrayed me.

"Damien!" I yelled.

No response.

"Damien!" I yelled louder.

He finally emerged, casually wiping his face.

"What?"

I held up the notebook and scratched the note out right in front of him. "Stop messing with my plans."

"That was my plan. Involves you, though," he said flatly.

"Asshole," I muttered.

"We could start now, just to cross it off properly."

I lunged at him, wrapped myself around his leg, and wrestled him down.

"OW!" he squealed when I bit his ear.

I let go, fuming. "Get ready. We have dinner at the Braxton residence tonight."

"That’s later," he said, rubbing his ear. "And why do I have to come?"

"They know you’re my best friend. Plus, you’ve been to the Braxtons’ before—remember? Because you were starving."

Back in high school, he dropped me off when my driver bailed. I invited him to dinner, and my grandparents didn’t say much as he devoured three plates like a man possessed.

I decided to check on Livana and Damon, so I went to their room. But as soon as I heard the unmistakable sounds of a couple going at it, I turned right back around.

"What?" Damien asked, flipping through my notebook again.

"It’s not even noon, and your brother is destroying my sister."

"That’s Damon. Stamina like a bull."

I folded my arms. "Damn it."

My phone rang—it was one of the maids from the Braxton residence.

"Yes?"

"Miss, your grandmother is sending Carrie to Switzerland tomorrow."

My hand flew over my mouth. "Wait—really?"

"Yes, it was quite the scene."

"Okay, that’s... good. At least Livana managed to handle it. We’ll be there tonight."

I turned back to Damien, who was scribbling in my notebook again

.

"Stop messing with my plans!" I scowled

"At least pencil in time to masturbate. Your toys are collecting dust."

I grabbed a pillow, ready to strike, but he tossed the notebook aside and bolted.

Damn this man. I love the bastard—he’s my best friend—but best friends are biologically engineered to drive you insane.

By four in the afternoon, I was dressed and ready. We were also officially moving out of the Blackwell residence. I could tell Aunt Amiliee and Grandma Isabella had taken a liking to Livana, but Grandpa and Dad? Not so much. She’s both a Carrington and a Braxton—double trouble.

I hopped into the van, Livana’s driver behind the wheel. I slid into the back seat and checked my notebook again. One of my tasks read: Make Aunt and Carrie uncomfortable. A noble goal. But at the very bottom—of course—was another Damien addition:

Give Damien a handjob

I scratched it out so hard I nearly tore the page. I shot him a glare. He was sitting in the back, smirking, well out of arm’s reach.

This asshole.

It was a two-hour drive to the Braxton residence. At the gate, the guard checked the driver before letting us in. I’d already confirmed with the maid that our grandparents were home, waiting in the drawing room.

As soon as we stepped out of the van, I helped Livana down. Damon and Damien followed behind. We made our way to the door, where one of the maids greeted us. But the moment she saw Damon and Damien, she froze.

Another maid dashed off, presumably to warn the drawing room that the circus had arrived.

"Livy!" Grandfather Edward was the first to appear, but he came to a full stop when he spotted the two men behind us. "What is this? Why are there Blackwells here?"

"We’re your guests, Grandpa. Be nice," Livana said sweetly—but firm enough that I knew this wouldn’t go over well with Dad.

Sure enough, Dad stepped in next, trying—and failing—to fake warmth.

"Livana, dear," he said with all the sweetness of vinegar. "Why are these gentlemen here?"

"We’ll talk over dinner. It’s nearly six, and I’m sure the grandmas and grandpas need to take their meds after their meal."

Enter Aunt Casey and Carrie, both of whom looked like they’d swallowed a lemon. Hard.

"Everyone," Livana announced. "These gentlemen will be joining us for dinner."

Silence.

"I also have an announcement after the meal," she added, her tone full of Chairwoman mode.

I glanced at Damon, who was visibly gawking. Yeah, he was probably imagining all sorts of things. I nudged Damien to nudge his brother.

"Good evening, everyone," Damon said with that overly pleasant smile of his, as Jane came in with baskets of... something. Probably a peace offering or some distraction he cooked up.

No one responded. Not even a fake smile.

"Let’s head to the dining room," Livana said, sounding like she ran the damn family.

And honestly? Maybe she should.