The Collahan mansion resembled a national landmark, not a residence, with its three stories, high windows, and gleaming stone, to say nothing of the front lawn, which was so immaculately manicured that Misty felt as though she would commit a felony by setting foot on it. She stood outside the house, clutching her suitcase, while staring up at it, literally, as though this building might swallow her up whole. In many ways, it already had. Harry Collahan's will hadn't only cast her into chaos; it had dropped her right into the middle of the brothers' lives with one impossible mission:
Bring them back together.
She didn't even know them. At least-not in any meaningful way. One had yelled at her, one had stared suspiciously, and the third had tried to make polite small talk while Roman was busy burning holes through her with his eyes. How was she supposed to fix anything when she could barely breathe around them?
But the will's wording was painfully clear. Misty had responsibilities she didn't choose. Responsibilities she didn't understand. And so she stood on the mansion's steps and pressed the doorbell with trembling fingers.
The door swung open.
Richard blinked at her, surprised—but then his face softened into something warm. "Misty? You came."
She cleared her throat. "The will said I had to. Something about being part of the… reconciliation process."
Richard nodded. "Yeah. Dad wanted us to stop acting like strangers. He believed we needed someone neutral to help keep us in the same room without killing each other." He lifted her suitcase before she could protest. "Come in."
Misty stepped into the foyer, and everything inside her froze.
The interior was-overwhelming. Marble floors. A chandelier the size of her entire kitchen. Staircases on both sides curving like something out of a palace. Her head tilted up, eyes wide at the painted ceiling and soft golden lights.
"This is… a lot," she whispered.
"Wait until you see the rest," Richard chuckled.
The girl didn't have time to reply before Ronnie slid into the foyer in socks, almost knocking over a vase on its pedestal. "She's here!" he shouted. "Welcome to our humble, not-at-all-intimidating home."
Misty couldn't help it-she laughed nervously. "Humble isn't what I'd call it."
"That's my line," Ronnie grinned. "I need royalties."
Richard rolled his eyes. "Ignore him."
Ronnie leaned in conspiratorially. "Richard's just jealous because I'm the fun one."
"I'm the responsible one," Richard corrected.
Ronnie nodded. "Exactly. Boring."
Before either brother could say more, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"What is she doing here?"
Misty stiffened, as Roman emerged from the hallway, his face carved with irritation. He locked onto her suitcase like it was a threat.
"Why," he asked, stepping forward, "is her stuff inside our house?"
Misty opened her mouth to say something, but her voice caught in her throat. Roman's glare was hard—too hard, as if he were ready for a fight before she was even able to defend herself.
Richard stepped forward. "Roman—"
"No." Roman lifted a hand. "This is insane. She can't just move in."
Ronnie pointed to the ceiling dramatically. "Actually, she can. Dad said so."
Roman shot him a look that could turn steel into ash. "You're not helping."
Misty took a step back, the fingers of one hand instinctively curling around the strap of her bag. She had known Roman would hate this, but seeing it in person felt like being shoved into a storm.
"I didn't want to move in," she said quietly. "I have a job, a life—well, a small life—but still. I didn't come here to make things worse."
Roman snorted. "Then leave.
"Roman," Richard snapped.
"No. She has been here for five minutes and already everything is upside down.
Misty's frustration flared. "Everything was upside down long before I showed up."
"Oof," Ronnie muttered under his breath.
Roman took one step closer. "You think you can just walk in because a piece of paper says so?"
"Yes," she said. "Because your father said so. And I—believe it or not—respect his wishes more than you do right now."
Richard's eyebrows arched. Ronnie's hand flew to his mouth.
Roman's jaw tensed so hard she thought it might crack. "You don't know anything about him."
"And you don't know anything about me," she fired back. "Maybe if you stopped yelling for ten seconds, you'd realize I'm not your enemy."
He stared at her, breathing hard. She stared right back, refusing to look away this time.
Finally, Richard broke the silence. "Dad wanted this. Let's at least try to follow what he asked."
Roman didn't say a word. He simply turned away, storming deeper into the house.
Misty let loose a shuddery breath she hadn't known she was holding.
Ronnie patted her shoulder. "Well, that went great."
"Ronnie," Richard groaned. "Please."
"What? I'm being positive!"
Richard turned to Misty. "Don't take Roman personally. He's… complicated."
"That's a nice way of saying stubborn," Ronnie added.
"A very nice way," Misty muttered.
They showed her to a guest room, but the term "guest room" was an understatement. It was larger than her entire apartment, had soft bedding, warm lighting, and a balcony that overlooked the gardens. Even the doorknobs looked expensive.
She touched the edge of the dresser. "I don't belong here."
Richard smiled softly. "Perhaps not yet, but Dad trusted you for a reason.
Ronnie added, "And your cooking better be amazing because Roman eats like a bear coming out of hibernation."
Misty actually laughed, tension easing for the first time since she arrived.
---
Yet, dinner destroyed any such peace she'd found.
The air was thick along the long dining table, Roman seated at the end refusing to look at her, the rest of them trying to play it off as if everything was all right. Silverware clinked. Ronnie made jokes no one laughed at. Misty kept her eyes on her plate.
Finally, she muttered, "So this is what family bonding looks like? Chewing loudly in silence?"
Richard choked on water. Ronnie snorted.
Roman's head snapped up. "If you don't like it, no one is forcing you to stay."
Misty met his glare. "The will's forcing me to stay. If you read it instead of tearing it apart with your face, you'd know that."
The room froze.
Even Ronnie didn't move.
Roman was staring at her in astonishment. Misty stared back, not blinking.
"Oh boy," whispered Richard.
Misty's stomach twisted—but she didn't back down.
Roman set his fork down slowly. "Fine. If you're staying, don't expect me to make this easy."
Misty lifted her chin. "I The Collahan mansion looked like a national landmark rather than a residence, with its three stories, high windows, and gleaming stone to say nothing of the front lawn, which was so immaculately manicured that Misty felt as if she would commit a felony by setting foot on it. She stood outside the house, clutching her suitcase, looking up at it-literally-as if this building might swallow her up whole. In many ways, it already had. Harry Collahan's will hadn't only cast her into chaos; it had dropped her right into the middle of the brothers' lives with one impossible mission:
Bring them back together.
She didn't even know them. At least, not in any meaningful way. One had yelled at her, one had stared suspiciously, and the third had tried to make polite small talk while Roman was busy burning holes through her with his eyes. How was she supposed to fix anything when she could barely breathe around them?
But the wording in the will had been painfully clear. Misty had responsibilities she didn't choose. Responsibilities she didn't understand. And so she stood on the steps of the mansion and pressed the doorbell with trembling fingers.
The door swung open.
Richard blinked at her, surprised—but then his face softened into something warm. "Misty? You came."
She cleared her throat. "The will said I had to. Something about being part of the… reconciliation process."
Richard nodded. "Yeah, Dad wanted us to stop acting like strangers. He believed we needed someone neutral who would help keep us in the same room and not kill each other." He lifted her suitcase before she could protest. "Come in."
Misty stepped into the foyer, and everything inside her froze.
The interior was-overwhelming. Marble floors. A chandelier the size of her entire kitchen. Staircases on both sides curving like something out of a palace. Her head tilted up, eyes wide at the painted ceiling and soft golden lights.
"This is… a lot," she whispered.
"Wait until you see the rest," chuckled Richard.
She didn't have time to respond before Ronnie slid into the foyer in socks, almost knocking over a vase on its pedestal. "She's here!" he shouted. "Welcome to our humble, not-at-all-intimidating home."
Misty couldn't help it, she laughed nervously. "Humble isn't what I'd call it."
"That's my line," Ronnie grinned. "I need royalties."
Richard rolled his eyes. "Ignore him."
Ronnie leaned in conspiratorially. "Richard's just jealous because I'm the fun one."
"I'm the responsible one," Richard corrected.
Ronnie nodded. "Exactly. Boring."
Before either brother could say anything further, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"What is she doing here?
Misty straightened, as Roman appeared from the hallway, his face carved with annoyance. His gaze locked onto her suitcase like it was a threat.
"Why," he asked, stepping forward, "is her stuff inside our house?"
Misty's mouth opened to say something, but her voice got caught in her throat. Roman's glare was hard, too hard, and he almost looked ready for a fight before she was even able to defend herself.
Richard stepped forward. "Roman—"
"No." Roman lifted a hand. "This is insane. She can't just move in."
Ronnie pointed dramatically to the ceiling. "Actually, she can. Dad said so."
Roman shot him a look that could turn steel into ash. "You're not helping."
Misty retreated a step, her fingers of one hand instinctively curling around the strap of her bag. She had known Roman would hate this, but seeing it in person felt like being shoved into a storm.
"I didn't want to move in," she said quietly. "I have a job, a life—well, a small life—but still. I didn't come here to make things worse."
Roman snorted. "Then leave.
"Roman," Richard snapped.
"No. She has been here for five minutes and already everything is upside down.
Misty's ire was raised. "Everything was upside down long before I showed up."
"Oof," Ronnie muttered under his breath.
Roman took a step closer. "You think you can just walk in because a piece of paper says so?
"Yes," she said. "Because your father said so. And I—believe it or not—respect his wishes more than you do right now."
Richard's eyebrows arched. Ronnie's hand flew to his mouth.
Roman's jaw tensed to the point where she was afraid it would crack. "You don't know anything about him."
"And you don't know anything about me," she answered. "Maybe if you stopped yelling for ten seconds, you'd realize I'm not your enemy."
He stared hard at her, breathing hard. She stared right back, refusing to look away this time.
Finally, Richard spoke up. "Dad wanted this. Let's at least try to follow what he asked."
Roman didn't say anything; he turned and stormed deeper into the house.
Misty let out a shuddery breath she hadn't known she was holding.
Ronnie patted her shoulder. "Well, that went great."
"Ronnie," Richard groaned. "Please."
"What? I'm being positive!"
Richard turned to Misty. "Don't take Roman personally. He's.complicated."
"That's a nice way of saying stubborn," Ronnie added.
"A very nice way," Misty muttered.
They led her to a guest room, but that seemed an understatement. The room was larger than her entire apartment, had soft bedding, warm lighting, and a balcony overlooking the gardens. Even the doorknobs looked expensive.
She touched the edge of the dresser. "I don't belong here."
Richard smiled softly. "Perhaps not yet, but Dad trusted you for a reason.
Ronnie added, "And your cooking better be amazing because Roman eats like a bear coming out of hibernation."
Misty actually laughed, tension easing for the first time since she arrived.
---
Yet, dinner destroyed any such peace that she found.
The air was thick along the long dining table, Roman seated at the end refusing to look at her, the rest of them trying to play it off like everything was all right. Silverware clinked. Ronnie made jokes no one laughed at. Misty kept her eyes on her plate.
Finally, she muttered, "So this is what family bonding looks like? Chewing loudly in silence?"
Richard choked on water. Ronnie snorted.
Roman's head snapped up. "If you don't like it, no one is forcing you to stay."
Misty met his glare. "The will's forcing me to stay. If you read it instead of tearing it apart with your face, you'd know that."
The room froze.
Even Ronnie didn't move.
Roman was staring at her in astonishment. Misty stared back, not blinking.
"Oh boy," whispered Richard.
Misty's stomach twisted, but she didn't back down. Roman set his fork down slowly. "Fine. If you're staying, don't expect me to make this easy." Misty lifted her chin. "I wasn't expecting anything from you." The brothers exchanged surprised glances. This girl was not leaving anytime soon.wasn't expecting anything from you." The brothers exchanged surprised glances. This girl was not leaving anytime soon.