Chapter 107: The Sinclair Family Radar Detected My Happiness Again

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I had nearly packed up half of my closet when it hit me...I might have a bit of a motherfucking problem.

Not a serious one, obviously. I wasn’t in any life-threatening situation, no one was trying to harm me, and Lorenzo hadn’t threatened to lock me away indefinitely.

By the standards of the Castelli family, this was practically a holiday. My issue was that I had no clue what to wear in Paris.

The more I rummaged through my clothes, the more I felt like I didn’t own anything even remotely chic enough for a city known for its fashion.

All I had were really expensive sweaters and plain trousers.

There I stood, staring at two shirts in my hands, contemplating my next move as if it somehow held the key to my future.

While I was folding a sweater, Leon’s expression shifted as he glanced towards the bedroom door.

"Sir, there’s someone asking for you at the entrance."

"Who is it?"

"Miss Blair Sinclair."

My hands froze in place.

For a brief moment, I just stared at the sweater in my lap, as if the name was written on it, and I needed a second to digest it.

The excitement I had felt all afternoon vanished, replaced by that familiar knot in my stomach...I thought I was finally getting over it.

What the hell did she want now?

It’s like she had a damn radar to tell her whenever I was happy just...so she could stop by and ruin that happiness.

"Blair?" I echoed, though I was pretty sure Leon hadn’t taken to fabricating visitors just for fun.

Leon hesitated. "Would you like me to let her know you’re unavailable?"

I gave it a thought, but picturing Blair waiting at the entrance, insisting to be let in while the staff explained I was busy, was almost as annoying as the idea of actually talking to her.

"No, I’ll take care of it."

I closed my suitcase halfway and straightened my shirt before heading toward the door.

When I reached the main entrance, Blair stood there, decked out in an expensive cream-colored outfit that could probably cover rent for a small apartment.

Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was on point, like she had spent hours preparing for a magazine cover instead of just dropping by to see her estranged brother.

She held a small handbag and wore that familiar look of someone who expected everything to bend to her will.

Her eyes scanned me, pausing briefly at my neck before meeting my gaze. "Alex."

"Blair."

She glanced over my shoulder, clearly waiting for me to invite her in, but I stayed put, one hand resting against the doorframe.

"Are you just going to leave me standing here?"

"That is the plan, yes."

Her brows knitted together. "Excuse me?"

"I don’t recall inviting you inside."

"Don’t be ridiculous. I’m your sister."

"Half-sister," I corrected. "And here we are, seeing that our relationship hasn’t magically improved."

She looked genuinely offended, although it was hard to tell if it was because I insulted her or simply failed to play along with whatever script she had rehearsed on the way here.

Either way, she stepped closer, and I shifted to block her view of the hallway.

"I came to talk to you," she said.

"Congratulations. You’re doing it."

"Can you stop being so difficult for just five minutes?!"

"I’d love to, but you’re making it a challenge."

Blair let out a sharp breath and glanced around the entrance, taking in the polished floors, the grand staircase, and the upscale furniture visible behind me.

I could tell she was trying not to look impressed, but her gaze lingered on the chandelier just long enough to give it away.

She crossed her arms. "You haven’t visited Father since he was hospitalized."

I felt that familiar tightening in my chest, but kept my expression neutral. "Is that why you’re here? To remind me how much of a failure I am as a son?"

"He was hurt, Alex...by your husband. He was in the hospital, and you didn’t even bother to show up!"

"Father and I have already discussed our relationship, if you can even call being disowned a discussion."

"That doesn’t mean you should just abandon him!"

I stared at her for a moment, wondering if she truly believed what she was saying or if she was just used to parroting whatever sounded reasonable.

"You mean the man who called me a stain on the sheets, kept me hidden away, and eventually disowned me in front of everyone? That father?"

Blair’s jaw tightened. "You know he was angry."

"He’s been angry most of my life. I’m starting to think it might just be his personality."

"You’re being cruel!"

"That’s an interesting accusation, coming from you."

She briefly looked away before re-focusing on me. "You also turned down our request for the twenty million."

"Ah, yes. The twenty million. I was wondering when we’d get to the part where I’m supposed to feel guilty for not funding the people who spent years making me feel unwanted."

"Our family is in trouble, even more now that we also had to pay for the hospital to get that bullet out of his hand."

"Then maybe our family should’ve thought about that before treating me like some embarrassing secret."

Blair pressed her lips together, and for a moment, silence hung between us.

She suddenly reached into her handbag and pulled out a cream envelope, holding it out to me with two fingers.

"I’m getting married, you dolt!"

I glanced at the envelope, then back at her. "My condolences to the groom."

"Alex!"

"What? I’m just congratulating him in advance. Marriage is a big deal...especially if he’s getting married to you."

She looked annoyed, but there was a flicker of satisfaction in her expression as she lifted the envelope slightly. "You’re invited or whatever."

I didn’t take it. "How generous."

"You’re not even going to look at it?"

"I can see your name on the envelope, Blair. I doubt the contents will surprise me."

Her expression hardened. "I thought you’d be interested."

"Interested in what? Your wedding?"

"Yes."

I held her gaze for a moment before offering her my flattest smile. "Congratulations on finally getting a husband and all."

The satisfaction drained from her face instantly. "You really don’t care, do you?"

"I honestly don’t give a fuck actually."

She stared at me, as if she expected a different answer...something laced with jealousy or bitterness that she could take back as proof that I was miserable without the Sinclair family.

I could almost picture her telling everyone how I had asked about the wedding, complimented her dress, or pretended to be hurt that she was getting married and she now had a leg up the silent competition between us Omegas.

Too bad for her, I’d spent way too long pretending to care about things that were none of my business, and now I was finally appreciating the freedom of being honest.

"Will you come?" she asked.

"Nope."

"Alex, it’s my wedding."

"And I’m your half-brother. Or at least I was until Father decided otherwise."

"You’re still part of this family, whether you like it or not."

I chuckled quietly. "That’s an interesting viewpoint, considering how hard everyone worked to make sure I never felt like I belonged."

"You’re exaggerating."

"Am I?"

She opened her mouth, but I jumped in before she could turn it into another argument about how I had misunderstood everything.

"Father disowned me, Blair. He did it in front of you, in front of everyone, and I don’t recall you objecting. I don’t remember you standing up for me or suggesting that maybe shooting your own son with words wasn’t the best way to solve a disagreement. So forgive me if I don’t feel particularly obligated to go to your stupid ass wedding just so you can show me how better yours is than mine."

I smiled at her, "After isn’t that really the reason why you want me there? To show me how better your wedding is?"