Chapter 23

Valentino's POV 

Are we returning to New York three days sooner as a result of Caylee's error? Alisa questioned me in a nonchalant manner as she set down the magazine she was reading.

Almost eight hours after I spoke to Myrah, we had arrived in New York and were already en route to my residence.

Kyle, Alton, and Caylee occupied a three-seater behind Alisa and me in our seats. Despite all her attempts, Caylee and I hadn't spoken much. She didn't talk to anyone, and she didn't eat either, and she appeared terrible. I had to devise a strategy.

"No", my dad is returning tomorrow, as I previously mentioned; therefore, I must be here. Ever since the wedding reception, I haven't seen him. I answered, taking her magazine, and began leafing through it as we too had a few things to talk about.

She asked the blatantly apparent question, "You are pissed about Caylee, right?"

I can see you're only here to make my wounds worse.

I wouldn't precisely say that, though. I'm here to support my best buddy, to ease my employer's tension, and to calm down my brother-in-law a little.

"Employer? Brother-in-law?" Alisa, some of your remarks are so shocking coming from you. I laughed, and she pouted nastily in response. This pouting behavior was unquestionably a Dante trait.

Well, for the upcoming few months, you are my employer. You're paying me money. You are my brother-in-law because you are married to my sister.

"Temporary." 

"Either way, you'll be my brother-in-law because after you divorce Myrah, you're going to marry Caylee."

"Okay, okay. Please allow me to rest. It seems like you've taken up nagging me as a new hobby. I have no desire to speak.

I am aware that I am superior to Myrah, though. Wait until she becomes accustomed to you and starts pestering you with questions about everything in the world, simply to irritate you. She described Myrah as "quite the drama queen," and I observed that she was grinning as she said it.

Do you already miss her? You know, I can always give her back.

"Miss?" No, we were simply accustomed to her presence, but taking a break from her is beneficial, she said, looking down at her nails and fidgeting with them.

These siblings were strange in some way. It seems that Myrah was the target of discrimination or something similar. Only time would reveal the secret they were keeping from the world.

Anyway, I simply wanted to express that your outrage over the Caylee situation is well-founded. Yes, I believe that what she did was wrong, but her job comes first. These occurrences occasionally occur on a professional level.

Show me a magazine cover where you aren't covered and a man is eating your lips and breasts.

Dude! You are quite direct. I'd never take that action. My mother would murder me. But kidding aside, Val and Caylee expressed contrition for her error when we spoke on the plane. She had never previously felt so helpless and shattered. She needs you in her life, and she loves you. Alisa softly said, looking at me so that I was the only one hearing what she was saying, "You need her too."

"I adore her as well. I cherish her greatly.

"We're all aware. Concerning that magazine, don't worry. I personally spoke with the magazine's owner and requested that they throw away all of the publications and Caylee-related images they had. The fact that they hadn't yet sold many copies is a plus.

"Really?"

Yep. I made sure Caylee wouldn't participate in similar ventures again and paid for any inconveniences that were brought about. An agreement with Chanel and Dior was later accepted by her. She'll spend at least two months working on those tasks. She will accept any more offers that are made so that she can support herself financially. Please stop being angry with her.

"I'll speak with her." We appreciate your work and being a kind sister-in-law.

"Oh, kindly. Anytime," she remarked, to which I replied with a frown. She grinned as we carried on, largely discussing her professional life. She shared many traits with Myrah.

We arrived at home after roughly 30 minutes. Since they were cooking and wanted everyone to try their meal, Nick and Monica urged that we all come. They were so good at cooking that we couldn't say no to them. They excelled in every endeavor.

When we got there, the driver let us off near the door and then parked the car in the garage. The employees would take care of the luggage.

As we entered the house, I caught a glimpse of Caylee pleading for my attention as she looked at me in my peripheral vision.

Monica, whose face was smiling with happiness, came and tightly hugged me, interrupting my train of thought. I adored how frenziedly energetic she was. She then heard Kyle say something about his hair, Caylee wished her a belated happy birthday, and Alisa gushed about one of her fantastic photo shoots.

Alton continued to stand outside, admiring some flowers. He preferred spending time in nature. Nick arrived wearing an apron similar to his sister's and greeted everyone in his outgoing, exuberant manner.

Although being together was enjoyable, we lacked something. I couldn't find the person I had traveled so far to see. I was dying to see her. I was really eager to see her.

Nick was busy pestering Caylee about her lashes when Alton finally arrived. If only he was aware of how much stress she was under.

Monica exclaimed, "Hi, Alton," and waved wildly at him. He squinted merely a wave. I was expecting more," he grumbled, nearly feigning a pout, a family matter.

"Should I give you a hug then?" Monica asked with an arched brow.

Boring, he complained.

The phrase "Kiss, kiss?" Monica provided.

He mumbled, "Yes, yes," a smile illuminating his features.

Dramatically scurrying in his direction, Monica was plucking at her lips. He could kiss her back quite well, and she could do the same for him. The show was cut off just as they were about to kiss.

Nick interrupted with a "cough," wrapping his arm around Alton's neck and tugging him to the kitchen while Alton laughed. It was amazing how fiercely protective Nick was of Monica. I cherished their partnership.

When we finally reached the kitchen, Myrah was there. She was chopping onions while wearing an apron. She appeared different from the previous time I saw her, and her eyes were wet.

Myrah had slimmed down a bit. She appeared to have recently come out of a difficult time in her life because of the pale color of her complexion. I was unsure of how to respond. Everyone just stared at her with the same perplexed expression I had.

When Myrah spotted us, she glanced up at us and wiped her tear-filled eyes. Her adorable pink lips began to twitch into a faint smile.

She said, "Hey everyone," tenderly wiping her hands before tossing the paper towel in a trash can.

"Gosh." What happened to you, Myrah? Alton inquired as he approached Myrah. She appeared to flinch while feigning a wet smile.

"Nothing. My eyes were watering from the onions," she said hesitantly.

"I'm referring to your weight." Are you sick? You seem smaller than normal, he said, his face laced with apprehension, yet Myrah was completely frazzled.

She appeared to be choking from all the questions and attention.

Oh, come on, you fools. Don't ask Myrah a million questions. Myrah won't be asked any questions from now on because, according to the doctor, who is also my brother, with whom I am really pleased, she has to rest and not be stressed out. I'll check to see if she is fit to respond to a psychotic question once you ask me. Okay, Myrah? Myrah's shoulders were softly squeezed as Monica chattered.

Sure! Forgive me. Myrah softly muttered, "I'm going to wash

my face. Please let me out between Alisa and Caylee, who are blocking the door.