Pregnant by My Bully's Billionaire Uncle

Some random bastard knocked her up, and she doesn't even know who the father is!

At the family dinner, Vivienne jabbed a manicured finger at my pregnant belly. She had made a sport out of poaching every single one of my ex-boyfriends, shamelessly calling it her eco-friendly recycling program.

Uncle Gideon, put her in her place. Tell her exactly who you are, Vivienne chirped, wrapping both arms tightly around his tailored sleeve like a leech.

Gideon, impeccably dressed in a bespoke suit, let out a low, chilling chuckle. His dark eyes swept coldly over Vivienne. "Nice to meet you," he drawled smoothly.

"I'm the baby daddy."

Chapter 1

Everyone at university knew I was Vivienne's obedient little lapdog. If she wanted me dead by five o'clock, I wouldn't live to see the sunset.

[ Maeve, can you grab me some fried chicken? And pick up some of those on your way? ]

Vivienne texted me in the middle of the night.

[ Now? ]

I replied.

[ Yeah. Bring it straight up to my room. You're the best. ]

I rubbed my eyes, my brain still foggy with sleep. Then I glanced at the calendar on my phone. Right. Valentine's Day.

[ What do you need those for? ]

I typed back.

[ Tristan is coming over tonight to celebrate with me. Don't tell me you forgot already? ]

Tristan? The last traces of sleep vanished from my head. I gripped my phone tighter. Right. Tristan and Vivienne made it official last week.

Tristan. My ex-boyfriend.

"She really knows how to make people sick," my best friend Brooke muttered when I told her. "She stole your boyfriend, and now she's making you run out to buy condoms?"

I let out a heavy breath. "I owe her, Brooke. You know that."

"You owe her your life, Maeve, not a steady supply of men. Besides, it's been years. You paid that debt off a long time ago."

I didn't say anything. I just stared at the floor.

At twelve-thirty in the morning, I handed the plastic bag to Vivienne. She stood behind her half-open dorm room door, taking it with a smirk. "Was he always this much of a freak?" she asked. "Making me wear stuff like this."

I took one look at her low-cut French maid outfit, paired with black lace suspender stockings, and rolled my eyes. "Ugly guys always have the weirdest kinks," I said flatly. "By the way, those condoms are going to be too big for him, but I'm not running back out to buy a smaller size. Have fun."

Tristan was filthy rich and a total player. I chased him for a solid year before we finally got together. But even then, the string of girls hovering around him never stopped.

From behind the door, Vivienne giggled. "Got it! I am definitely locking him down tonight."

I kept my mouth shut. Through the narrow crack in the door, my eyes landed on Tristan. He was slouched in Vivienne's desk chair, casually tapping away at a game on his phone. Still flashing that same bad-boy smirk.

A sharp ache twisted in my chest. I swallowed hard, the back of my throat burning.

I was the one who ended things with Tristan. He used the ten-second respawn timer in his game to type back, "Sure. Just don't come crying to me later."

No screaming. No messy fights. Just cold, flat detachment, as if we were nothing more than distant acquaintances all along.

By the next morning, he already had some new freshman hanging off his arm on his way to class. Vivienne and Tristan met at my birthday party.

We were playing Truth or Dare when some guy asked Vivienne, "How is the gorgeous Vivienne still single? What's your type anyway?"

She looked straight at me, her lips curling into a teasing smile. "I like guys exactly like my big sister's boyfriend."

The whole room erupted in laughter, turning to look at Tristan.

"Bro, you're taken, but you're still pulling the hottest girls!" someone yelled. "Some guys get all the luck."

Tristan just chuckled, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. He pulled out his phone without missing a beat. "Want to add my Snapchat then?"

"Really? Maeve, do you mind?" Vivienne gasped, feigning innocence.

Before I could even open my mouth, Tristan answered for me. "She doesn't mind."

I sat there in silence. My brain was too busy running the math.

Vivienne was exactly three months older than me. Even if she was born premature, she was still older. So why the hell was she calling me her big sister?

After they swapped contacts, I had no idea if they were texting behind my back. But exactly one week after I dumped him, Tristan posted a photo on Instagram, making it official with his new girlfriend.

Vivienne.

The rest of the campus reacted way harder than I did.

Chapter 2

Even in the elevator, some nosy girl pushed her luck. "Doesn't it gross you out, sharing a man with your bestie?"

I cut her off. "Not at all. One uses him during the day, the other at night. If you're so curious, why don't we try a threesome next time?"

Every single head in the elevator snapped up from their phones.

I knew the whispers behind my back. "She follows Vivienne around like a stray dog. She'll even hand over her own boyfriend just because Vivienne's family is loaded. She's desperate for cash."

I just gave a dry laugh. They weren't wrong. I was dead broke. And this wasn't the first time I had "gifted" a boyfriend to Vivienne.

Back in high school, I secretly dated the student body president. One day, my mom came home from grocery shopping and gave me a stern lecture. "Don't you dare copy Vivienne and start dating. Hugging that boy out in the open streetwhat a disgrace!"

Hugging? The blood drained from my face.

When I confronted Vivienne, she squeezed out some tears. "Maeve, so many guys like you. Can't you just let me have this one?"

I shook all over. I lunged forward and grabbed her tight by the collar.

But my mom dragged me off and slapped me across the face without asking a single question.

"Her family is wealthy. And you owe her your life. What gives you the right to fight her for anything?"

My mom was right. I did owe her my life. My mom was their live-in housekeeper. She worked for them, and I practically babysat for them.

When we were ten, Vivienne and I sneaked out to swim. I lost track of her in the pond, and she nearly drowned. I would never forget the night they pulled her out. My mom dropped to her knees in front of Vivienne's parents, begging for my forgiveness.

"You owe her your life. Remember that. You will spend the rest of your days paying it back."

From that day on, I became Vivienne's dog. Whatever she wanted, I gave to her. No questions asked.

By high school, her demands grew bigger. More twisted. She wanted my boyfriends.

I tried to fight back once. It didn't work.

"We are short half a million dollars for your grandmother's hospital bills. Vivienne's father covered the previous rounds out of pity," my mom had told me.

"So half a million dollars can buy a person's dignity?"

"You think you're worth that much?" my mom fired back.

She had a point. I wasn't. Never mind half a million. Two hundred bucks was enough to keep me frying french fries at a fast-food joint for days.

The next day was Vivienne's birthday. She invited half the campus to her Uncle Gideon's hillside mansion for a pool party.

She dragged me along to play servant. Cleaning up, slicing fruit. I did it all.

I hid in the kitchen, refusing to step outside. Tristan was out there. If the three of us ended up in the same room, the gossip would start flying again.

My ears were already bleeding from it. I didn't want to hear it.

But I had to take the fruit platter out.

I carried the fruit platter out to the pool edge. Tristan lounged back in a deck chair, with Vivienne plastered to his chest. A whole group of them were crowded around a massive TV screen, playing Call of Duty.

Tristan spotted me walking over. He pushed his sunglasses up and let out a cold scoff, looking right past me.

Vivienne, on the other hand, looked right at me. She put on her sweetest, most sickening baby voice. "Maeve, I want a mango slice."

I set the platter down in front of her and turned to leave.

She tilted her head up, blinking innocently. "But my hands are full. Can you feed me?"

I knew exactly what she was doing. Just like I had done a thousand times before, I crouched down in front of her, picked up the silver fork, and fed her a slice of mango.

Chapter 3

It painted a perfectly twisted picture of domestic blissher and Tristan glued to the screen, while I knelt beside them like a dutiful servant, feeding her mango slices. I kept my face blank, but someone else snapped.

"Tristan, that's nine losses out of ten games. Since when did your aim get this trash?" one of his frat brothers complained, slamming his controller down. "Guess he burned too much energy in bed last night. His hands are shaking today."

The whole group howled with laughter. I stayed rooted to my spot, staring blankly ahead as if I were invisible.

Tristan shoved his controller aside and glared at me. "Do you actually enjoy acting like a servant? Do you have zero self-respect?"

"But Maeve is our housekeeper's daughter. She's been feeding me fruit like this since we were little," Vivienne chimed in, perfectly playing the innocent peacemaker.

The laughter died down. A few people exchanged shocked looks.

"A housekeeper's daughter?"

"Wait, she's always wearing designer brands. Are those all yours?"

Vivienne smiled sweetly. "Maeve and I are super close. She goes in and out of my room all the time. Whenever she wears my clothes, I just let her keep them. It's no big deal."

"Jesus. Helping herself to her employer's closet to force you into giving her clothes? She definitely knows how to play the system. No wonder she acts like such a suck-up."

"Vivienne, you are way too nice to her."

I looked straight at Vivienne, keeping my voice deadpan. "My chest is bigger than yours. I can't even fit into your clothes."

"Really?" The sweet smile faltered on her lips. "Oh, right. I remember now. That Louis Vuitton T-shirt you wear your last boyfriend bought that for you, didn't he?"

The second the words left her mouth, Tristan's jaw tightened. "How many exes do you have?"

Obviously, the last boyfriend Vivienne was talking about wasn't Tristan.

"What? You planning to start a poker club with them?" I shot back.

He flinched, then turned his frustration on Vivienne. "Tell her to get out. She's ruining the vibe." He snatched his lighter off the table, sparked a cigarette, and stormed over to the barbecue grill.

"Maeve, you should just head inside," Vivienne said, waving me off.

Thank God. I wanted to leave hours ago.

I spun on my heel to walk away. Suddenly, a foot hooked around my ankle.

I stumbled forward, my arms flailing wildly before I crashed face-first into the deep end of the pool.

Cold water rushed up my nose. Nobody moved a muscle to help me. I swallowed mouthfuls of chlorinated water, thrashing my way to the edge and dragging myself onto the concrete deck, coughing up lungfuls of water.

Vivienne stood over me, looking down with a quiet smile. "Maeve, I thought you knew how to swim? When we were ten, you took me to that pond. Remember?"

I was soaked to the bone, my teeth chattering in the breeze. "Got water in my brain. I forgot."

I knew exactly what she was doing. Every time she felt even slightly threatened, she weaponized that memory. She needed to remind me that I owed her my life, forcing me to fall right back into line.

"Hurry upstairs and change out of those wet clothes. My Uncle Gideon's room is on the second floor. He's not here, so you can borrow something of his. I need to go check on Tristan."

Just like that, Vivienne flipped the switch, playing the generous host. I was too exhausted to play her twisted little game.

I turned and walked straight into the house, heading upstairs. I dragged myself to the end of the long hallway and pushed the heavy oak door open.

I stood in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror and stripped off my clinging, soaking wet clothes. My mind flashed back to the bottom of the poolfingers grasping at empty water, lungs burning for oxygen.

My chest tightened painfully. I could act numb all I wanted out there, but right here, right now, my vision blurred. Hot tears spilled over my eyelashes and tracked down my freezing cheeks.

I used to be a good swimmer. But ever since they dragged Vivienne's lifeless body out of that pond, the sheer panic broke something inside me. I never stepped foot in the water again.

Truth is, my memory of that day was fragmented. I had made a new friend at school, and Vivienne hated it. She gave me the silent treatment the entire afternoon, eventually running off to hide from me.

Chapter 4

I thought she had just gone home, so I walked back with my new friend. That night, they told me she had gotten tangled in the pond weeds, barely clinging to her last breath.

Ten-year-old me collapsed into the mud, gasping for air.

When my mom hit me, I just stared blankly at the floorboards, the phantom sound of splashing water ringing in my ears.

After they brought Vivienne back, she looked at me and said, "You do whatever I say for the rest of your life, and I'll forgive you."

I nodded. Ten years later, just thinking about it still sent violent tremors down my spine.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror for a long time. I wiped my face dry, walked over to the closet, and pulled on an oversized T-shirt. Right then, a pair of dark eyes appeared in the mirror's reflection.

A man was lying on the massive bed behind me. He blinked, looking groggy, like my crying had just woken him up. Someone was in the room. Vivienne's Uncle Gideon?

All the blood drained from my face. My mind short-circuited. He had been there the whole time.

Which meant he had watched me strip bare. It took me a few agonizing seconds to force my heart back down my throat.

I forced my expression to remain blank. I adjusted my earrings, twisted my damp hair up into a clip, swiped on some lipstick, and walked slowly toward the door.

It felt like a century had passed. The second the heavy oak door clicked shut behind me, I sagged against the hallway wall, pulling in huge, greedy gulps of air. My legs felt like jello. There's no way he remembers me, right?

I plastered on a fake smile, marched downstairs, and stood right beside Vivienne as she cut her birthday cake.

Halfway through blowing out the candles, a man in a tailored suit appeared at the top of the spiral staircase. The second he stepped into view, he sucked all the oxygen out of the room. Every pair of eyes snapped to him.

"Uncle Gideon! When did you get back to the States?" Vivienne squealed, practically throwing herself at him.

A split second before she could tackle him, he raised a hand, stopping her firmly an arm's length away. "You have a boyfriend now. Have some dignity and step back."

His words were a reprimand, but the undertone carried a soft indulgence.

Vivienne pouted. "Not until you give me my birthday present."

"What do you want?" His gaze swept lazily over the crowded living room. It landed on me. He paused.

"A sports car." Her outrageous demand made half the frat boys in the room suck in a sharp breath.

But the sheer jealousy peaked a second later. Gideon didn't even blink. "Get your driver's license first, then I'll buy it," he replied effortlessly.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't jealous. People were out here breaking their backs just to afford rent. But a trust-fund princess like Vivienne only had to whine a little to get something a normal family couldn't afford in a lifetime.

I hid in the back of the crowd, studying her uncle. Straight nose, thin lips, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Compared to the fleeting glance I caught in the bedroom, seeing him under the bright chandelier was almost entirely too much. He was unfairly gorgeous.

I thought standing behind the wall of bodies would keep me hidden. I was wrong. His dark eyes sliced through the room and locked straight onto mine again.

I didn't look away. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible frown, shooting me a loaded, heavy look.

Just that one look dragged up a flood of old memories. Back when I practically lived in Vivienne's shadow, her uncle was my absolute favorite person.

In the corporate world, he was notorious for being cold-blooded and ruthless. But to the kids, he was always gentle.

He never looked at me like I was just the housekeeper's daughter. He treated me like a normal kid, just like Vivienne.

I spent my entire teenage years harboring a massive, secret crush on Gideon. And I never dared to breathe a word of it to a single soul.

Chapter 5

I spent my entire childhood dreaming of the day I'd finally be brave enough to confess my feelings to him. Instead, the only thing I got was the news of his wedding. My thoughts snapped back to reality when Gideon spoke.

"Enjoy yourselves. If you need more money, let me know. I have some business to take care of."

"Okay! Uncle Gideon, you're the best!"

The second Gideon left the room, the frat boys and sorority girls lost their minds.

"Vivienne, your uncle looks like a literal movie star!"

"I swear I've seen him on the news. He was on the front page of the Wall Street Journal!"

"He's so rich, and he spoils you so much! You are so lucky!"

"Obviously. My uncle spoils me the most," Vivienne gloated, her chin tipped high.

I spent the next half hour tuning out the endless stream of people kissing up to her. My mind was heavy with everything that had happened. I grabbed my bag, ready to head back to campus.

"Leaving? Want a ride?" Tristan sat behind the wheel of his sports car, one hand resting arrogantly on the leather steering wheel. "Got one seat left."

"No thanks," I flatly refused.

"What is your problem? We're halfway up a mountain. Where are you going to find an Uber?" Tristan snapped, throwing his car door open.

Right on cue, Vivienne appeared. She looped her arm tightly through Tristan's, rubbing his bicep to calm him down, before turning her sweet gaze to me. "Maeve, didn't you say you were getting a ride with my Uncle Gideon?"

When did I ever say that? But I knew exactly what she was doing.

I glanced across the driveway. Gideon was standing by a sleek black SUV, his broad back to us. He was taking a drag from a cigarette while holding his phone to his ear. He hadn't left yet?

"I'm good. I'll call a ride," I refused again.

There was absolutely no way. Half an hour ago, I was standing completely naked in front of the man I'd been secretly in love with for years. I couldn't just casually sit next to him in the backseat of a car like my heart wasn't hammering against my ribs.

Vivienne completely ignored me. "Uncle Gideon!" she called out brightly.

The man turned around at the sound of his name.

"Are you heading into the city? Could you give my friend a ride?" Vivienne practically dragged me over to his car.

When his dark eyes landed on me, my chest violently tightened.

"Where to?"

"Campus," Vivienne answered for me.

"If it's out of your way, I can just call an Uber." The heat rushed right up to my face.

His expression didn't shift. He pulled the phone slightly away from his ear. "Give me five minutes."

I froze. Tristan watched the entire exchange. "You've got nerve, Maeve," he sneered. He slammed his door shut before flooring the gas pedal and peeling out of the driveway.

So there I was, standing stiffly next to Gideon's SUV, waiting for him to finish his call. He hung up less than a minute later. I caught the tail end of his conversation.

"I have something to handle."

"What woman? Just a kid."

"I'm hanging up."

I climbed into the backseat. I sat there in dead silence, mindlessly scrolling through TikTok on my phone, while he sat right next to me, tapping away on his tablet to review some documents.

The car was so quiet I could hear the friction of the tires against the asphalt. I dug my fingernails into the edge of my seatbelt, my palms slick with sweat. The AC blew over me, and a shiver ran down my spine. I instinctively tugged at the hem of my borrowed shirt.

He didn't even look up from his screen, but it was like he had eyes on the side of his head. "Aren't you cold dressed like that?"

I pulled my bare legs a little closer together. "I'm fine."

"Martin, turn the heat up," he commanded the driver. He shot a brief, dark glance at my exposed thighs. "Don't dress like that again."

My brain short-circuited. There was a heavy undertone in his voice, and the heat rushed back to my cheeks. It felt like every little defense mechanism I had was nothing but a cheap parlor trick to him. He saw right through me.

For the rest of the ride, he didn't ask any more questions, and I definitely didn't dare to open my mouth. The silence in the luxury car was terrifyingly heavy.

When the SUV finally pulled up to the edge of campus, I almost jumped out of my skin. I unbuckled and scrambled to get out before the car had completely stopped. But Martin took a sharp turn.

I lost my balance entirely and crashed directly into Gideon's lap.

Chapter 6

A sharp hiss of breath left his lips. I snapped my head up, my eyes crashing straight into his dark, warning glare. "Are you getting off me anytime soon?"

"Sorry!" I scrambled back, my hand blindly pressing down for leverageright onto a very hard, very forbidden spot.

I yanked my hand back like I'd been burned. The panicked apology spilled from my lips, but my thoughts stalled. My flailing limbs failed me, and I lost my footing all over again.

My face planted directly into his lap.

"Are all girls this bold nowadays?"

He clamped a heavy hand around my wrist. With a flicker of irritation, he practically lifted me by the collar and deposited me onto the opposite side of the leather seat.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't mean to."

"We're at your campus," he stated, his tone dipping into ice, dismissing my frantic apology.

"Goodbye, Uncle Gideon." I scrambled out of the SUV, standing stiffly on the curb to see him off.

He gave a single, dismissive hum before the heavy car peeled out into the night. Of course he didn't remember me.

"Hooked another sugar daddy?"

The sudden voice right next to my ear made me jump. It was Brooke. She stood next to me, her eyes locked on the sleek taillights fading into the darkness.

"Vivienne's Uncle Gideon," I breathed out. My heart was still violently hammering against my ribs from the absolute disaster in the backseat.

Brooke shot me a sharp look. "You trying to tap that?"

I froze. "No. But can you look into him for me?" I just wanted to know how he was doing.

The next day during Calculus, Brooke slid a printed dossier across my desk. My eyes dropped to the page. Right under "Marital Status," it read one word: Widowed.

My fingernails dug into the paper. I spent the rest of the lecture staring blankly at the whiteboard.

"Thirty years old, dead wife, and a literal billionaire," Brooke whispered, leaning close. "Men like that eat broke college kids like us for breakfast.

The rumors say he completely shut down after his wife passed. Total monk. Doesn't even look at women."

I stayed quiet, slipping the papers neatly into my backpack.

"You're serious about this?" Brooke stared at me.

"It's not a game."

She studied my face for a long time. "Then what are you doing?"

"I want to try."

She let out a dry laugh. "Maeve, don't play with fire. You're going to get burned."

"Vivienne makes a sport out of stealing your boyfriends, so you're going after her uncle to see if she can steal him too?" Brooke asked.

"Can't it just be because I actually like him?"

"I guess but you've literally only met him once."

"Who says I've only met him once?"

I had seen him countless times. He filled up pages and pages of my teenage diaries. But he never knew. Nobody knew.

By the time I was old enough to understand what it meant, he was already married. I burned every single one of those notebooks, burying the secret so I wouldn't cause any trouble.

I heard he moved abroad after the wedding, only coming back for the holidays. I hadn't seen him since. I thought he was living his perfect happily-ever-after. I never expected his marriage to end like this.

I stared at Gideon's background check every single day, a reckless urge clawing at the back of my mind. But a man like him existed in a different universe. I had no way to reach him.

Days dragged on. I kept my head down, still trapped in the suffocating orbit of Vivienne and Tristan.

A few days later, rumors started flying that Vivienne and Tristan got into a massive fight. Vivienne threw a tantrum in her dorm, then dragged me out shopping. Or rather, she shopped, and I played the free pack mule, carrying her heavy designer bags.

Halfway through the outdoor mall, she suddenly pointed to a pharmacy across the street and ordered me to go buy something for her.

"What do you need that for?"

"Tristan is a total bastard. Last night, he didn't pull"

I stared at her, my jaw tight. For a second, I didn't know whether I hated her or pitied her. I walked into the bright fluorescent aisles of the pharmacy, leaving her standing on the sidewalk.

Chapter 7

I never expected that just as I grabbed a box from the shelf and headed to the register, I would run into the exact man I couldn't stop thinking about. Gideon.

He was holding his phone to his ear with one hand, tossing a box of hangover pills onto the counter to check out. I had the absolute worst luck in the world. The one time I actually run into him, it had to be in a situation like this. Even though I tried my hardest to hide the little box under my hand, the cashier ruthlessly called me out.

"Honey, this is a Plan B pill. You sure this is the one you want?"

The second the cashier's voice rang out, Gideon paused his phone call. His dark eyes shifted over and locked onto me. All the blood drained from my face, and a sickening knot twisted in my stomach.

"Yeah." I shoved a crumpled bill across the counter, snatched the bag, and bolted out the glass doors.

I made it a few steps down the sidewalk before I stopped dead in my tracks. I spun around and marched back. I couldn't let my one chance turn into a disgusting misunderstanding.

When the glass doors slid open and he stepped out, I gathered every ounce of courage in my body. "Uncle Gideon, that thing I just bought it was for"

"Uncle Gideon!" Vivienne suddenly popped out of nowhere. She lunged forward, forcibly shoving the small paper bag behind my back. "Don't tell anyone! If her mom finds out, she'll literally kill her."

My jaw dropped. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Vivienne's manicured nails dug viciously into my arm, silencing me.

Gideon barely reacted. His cold gaze swept over me before landing on his niece. "Your friend?"

"Yeah."

"Then focus on your studies." He delivered the line like a strict elderdetached, his words dripping with icy indifference.

The second his sleek SUV pulled away from the curb, I ripped my arm out of her grip. "Why did you lie? Why would you let your uncle think that was for me?"

"If my uncle knows, my parents will know, and I'm the one who will get killed!" Vivienne shot back. Then she softened her voice, putting on a sickeningly sweet tone.

"Oh, Maeve, don't be mad. It's not like you're ever going to run in the same circles as my uncle anyway. He'll forget all about it in a few days."

He'll forget all about it. I clenched my jaw. Ever since we were kids, every single time she screwed up, I was the one forced to take the fall.

"Vivienne, you can't just pin every single one of your messes on me. Do you really think I'm going to save you for the rest of your life?"

"Won't you?" she asked. She stared right back at me, her eyes filled with absolute, terrifying certainty. She knew exactly what she was doing. She banked entirely on the fact that I owed her my life.

I didn't say a single word to her the entire walk back to the dorms.

The moment we stepped inside, she pulled out her phone, dialing Tristan to launch into a screaming, crying fit. I slumped onto my bottom bunk, feeling like my battery had hit zero.

So much for trying to get close to Gideon. He probably despised the very sight of me now.

"Wait, is this shirt the new Balenciaga limited edition drop?" one of my roommates gasped, staring at the black T-shirt hanging on the balcony drying rack.

Vivienne paused her hysterical phone call and glared at me. "That shirt costs thousands of dollars. Weren't you planning on returning it to my uncle?"

The entire room went dead silent. Every single roommate turned to stare at me.

"I just got it back from the dry cleaners," I said flatly. "Can you just take it to him the next time you go home?" I asked.

"Yeah, probably not," she smirked. "My uncle is an absolute neat freak. He hates it when other people touch his stuff. You'll just have to return it yourself."

My stomach dropped. No wonder he looked at me with such freezing contempt that day. He was pissed I was wearing his clothes. But Vivienne was the one who told me to go upstairs and put it on in the first place!

I sat on my bed for half an hour, fighting a massive internal war. Finally, I forced myself up. I had to bite the bullet, return the shirt, and apologize.

Gideon's mansion was tucked halfway up the hills. After taking three different buses and hiking up the winding road, the sky was already bleeding into a dark, bruised purple by the time I arrived.

I stood on the massive front porch for what felt like forever. I knocked, but there was zero answer.

I was just about to leave when he finally got back. His SUV pulled up to the front entrance. When he stepped out, his footsteps were heavy and slightly unsteady.

He paused when he saw me standing there. "What are you doing here