Page 3 of Enemies with My Brother's Billionaire Bestie

I let out a heavy sigh, nodding in agreement. He’s right. If Olivia’s being a wicked witch toward me now, I’ve only got myself to blame.

"You know, you never told me what really went down with Henry. I know we hated the guy, but beating him up just to piss Ollie off still baffles me," Daniel muses, rearranging his silverware thoughtfully.

I don’t answer. I should have told him everything, but the truth is more complicated than he'd ever understand. Yes, I ruined her prom, but that wasn’t the full story. None of them know what really happened. I was cold-hearted, sure, but I never meant to destroy what should’ve been the highlight of her high school experience.

Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything when I overheard that creep Henry bragging to his friends about how he planned to take advantage of her after the party. Maybe I shouldn’t have broken his nose and told him to cancel on her. But at the time, it felt like the right thing to do.

Actually, it still feels like the right thing to do. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. No one disrespects Olivia like that. No one.

My blood boils at the memory, and I clench my fist, turning my attention back to the table.

"We’re adults now," I mutter, hoping it sounds casual as we sit down to eat.

Daniel and Julia are lost in their own conversation, smiling and exchanging those quiet glances that make you believe in love. A part of me used to believe in that too, before I watched my father walk out on my mother, before I saw her heart break and pieces of her world shatter.

Love felt like an illusion—a fairy tale. Some people are lucky enough to find it. I’ve counted myself among the unlucky ones. I’m better off without the pain.

Olivia clears her throat, interrupting my thoughts. "So, what have you been up to, Elliot? I'm guessing you found something better to occupy your time than tormenting innocent young girls."

I start to respond, but Julia beats me to it. "Elliot owns a chain of restaurants. You’ve heard of Parsley’s, right?"

Olivia’s mouth falls open in surprise, and I can’t help but enjoy her reaction.

"You’re Mr. E? The one on the 'Billionaires Under 30' list inTimes?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"That’s me." I nod, a bit too smugly. "I have a restaurant here in town, too. Compared to the city hustle, I enjoy the calm of the sea and sand."

The shock fades from her expression almost immediately.

"Impressive. At least you managed to do something with your life," she scoffs, turning away.

Her words hit me like a punch, and all my resolve to be civil slips away. "At least I’m not running some delusional blog feeding women fantasies about love," I snap, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.

Her fork slams down on the plate with a sharp clink, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. Good.

The silence that follows is thick, but just before Olivia can strike back, Julia clears her throat. "I will not tolerate fighting at my dinner table. If you both want to act like teenagers, take it elsewhere."

Olivia looks like she’s about to unleash something sharp, but she stays silent. Daniel exhales in relief.

"We need you both to work together for the next three weeks," Daniel says, his voice steady but pleading. "Please, for the wedding. We can't deal with any more stress."

Olivia crosses her arms, glaring. "I don’t think that will be a problem. I just don’t want to see him again until the wedding."

"That’s not an option." Daniel shakes his head. "You two need to work with the event planners. This isn’t just about the clothes; it’s everything."

Olivia's eyes narrow. "What? You can't be serious. I’d rather shoot myself in the face than spend more time with this man."

I groan, turning to Daniel. "Please tell me you're joking."

But he’s not. His expression is dead serious.

"It’s all we’re asking of you both," Daniel says, exasperated. "I don’t want to believe either of you would let us down."

Olivia raises her chin, her voice full of defiance. "I want at least five feet between me and him, or anywhere he isn’t."

Now I’m angry. "Why do you keep acting like I’m some plague you need to avoid? You’ve been doing it since you showed up!"

"Because it’s the truth," she snaps. "You’re a plague, Elliot. Always have been, always will be."

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