"I still think this is a bad idea," Eric mumbled nervously.

"Shut up Erica," Dave spat and his twin brother, "For once Mila is living life on the rebellious side of things, she deserves applause rather than your negativity."

"It's Eric," Eric said between gritted teeth, "And it's rude to make fun of Dad's late mother's name."

Dave let out a long yawn, "I'm named after his late father, so is it disrespectful every time everyone calls my name? Especially when my girlfriend screa –"

Scrunching my face in disgust I cut him off before I could hear the rest of that disturbing sentence, "Could you two stop fighting like an old married couple."

It was just a little after midday and after another argument with my father over breakfast about letting me fly out to New York that morning ruined my mood, I convinced my brothers – Eric needed more convincing that Dave – to persuade my dad to allow us to visit a popular promenade in the city. My dad was skeptical because he didn't trust I wasn't making plans to meet with Mitchell, but he agreed because his rule-abiding, good son Eric was joining us.

I had to meet Mitchell and explain everything to him and since he wasn't answering my calls or responding to my texts, I had no choice but to find a way to meet him. I felt bad, but I needed to use my brother's help.

The plan was for us to drive to the promenade with one of the cars my dad hired and I was to catch a cab from there to the Clarke residence while my brothers did whatever they wanted while out. Thereafter, I would meet them back at the promenade and we'd make our way back home – in that way my father wouldn't be suspicious.

"Mila, apart from being a terrible liar, I hate lying to dad," Eric complained.

Eric was such an innocent little boy, even though from the last time I saw them, they had grown at least half a foot – Eric being about two inches shorter than Dave. But at sixteen they were already about six-foot-tall, much like me, both had our father's blue-green eyes and dark hair. They were almost identical, with strong jawlines, high cheekbones, and a slightly crooked nose, although Dave was a lot more buff than Eric and that was because Dave played football and according to Eric, was obsessed with the gym over the last six months.

My brother's and I never looked much alike apart from the color of our eyes and hair and our height which we inherited from the Brinson side of the family.

"I knew involving him was a bad idea," Dave rolled his eyes.

Eric scowled at his brother before he sincerely looked at me, "Couldn't you just call this Mitchell guy and fix things?"

"I tried but he isn't answering," I answered before I looked at my little brother with doe eyes, "I know you suck at lying but please do this for me, Ric, I really need to speak to him."

Eric sighed and half grinned at me, "I'm here only because of you."

"What time is your cab going to get here?" Dave asked casually before he teased, "I'm sure you're anxious to meet your boyfriend."

I lightly slapped the back of his head, "How many times do I have to tell you he is not my boyfriend?"

"Ow!" Dave dramatically shrieked, rubbing the back of his head, "Why didn't you act this way when Dad referred to him as that at breakfast."

He was right, my father's exact words when Dave proposed us going out this afternoon were, 'Eric needs to go with because I don't trust you and your sister alone, for all I know she made plans to meet her boyfriend.'

"I didn't deny it to piss him off more," I stated and that was the reason.

"It's so weird to see Dad not trusting you though," Eric mused, "You're his favorite and now he needs you to be chaperoned."

I rolled my eyes, "I am most certainly not Dad's favorite, you are," I then glanced at Dave, "On his list of favorite people, I even come after this dweeb."

"Hey!" Dave interjected.

Dave was a bit of a rebel and never liked to follow my father's rules, he always snuck around and did things dad never approved of. In fact, the only reason the twins joined Mandy and my father to LA was because Dave was grounded for the summer after Eric let it slip that Dave was underage drinking at one of his friend's parties.

"For once I agree with Erica," Dave stated, "You need to hear dad talk about you. It's always, oh Mila graduated top of her class. Mila is a medical student at Harvard, Mila is the perfect daughter, she has all her priorities set straight."

"Oh, and the best one," Eric added, "Mila is like polish to the Brinson name, she makes me so proud and I know she's going great places."

"Mila, my pride and joy." Both said together, imitating my dad's voice.

My brothers were clowns, so I wasn't too sure whether to believe them or not because hearing those kinds of words affiliated to my name from my father's mouth, sounded like a foreign language to me. I couldn't possibly imagine him praising or labeling me as his pride and joy. But then again, after hearing what Mandy told me the previous night, maybe the twins were right.

I shook away my thoughts, I didn't want to overthink and set myself up for disappointment, especially since my relationship with him was so bitter as of late. And, I was mad at him for not allowing me to fly back to New York, he said he had some work to take care of as it was years since he visited the LA branch of his company and Mandy told me he wanted to visit his parent's graves, so he promised we would leave the day after next the latest.

After the call with my mother, I wanted to leave as soon as possible and I tried to explain but he said if I really missed her, I wouldn't have stayed away for six weeks. To sum things up, my father was being an asshole.

"I will slap both your heads together if you don't shut up," I narrowed my eyes at them.

"Now listen," I began seriously, "You two are to stick together all the time because Dad needs to believe we're in one place, so Dave," I gave my mischief brother a warning stare, "For once stick with Eric and not runoff."

He groaned under his breath, "You owe me, Mils!"

"Hey," I interjected, "Who bought you those sneakers Dad refused to pay for two months ago?"

He lowered his head and mumbled, "You."

"Yeah, so you owe me this, besides, it won't kill you to spend some time with Eric."

"It will more like kill me to spend time with David," Eric mumbled under his breath earning himself a glare from me.

I pulled out my phone and handed it to my responsible brother.

"What are you giving me your phone?" Eric frowned.

"Because I recently found out that Dad has a habit of tracking my phone GPS," I elaborated, "And I can't risk him embarrassing me in front of the Clarke's again and making a bigger mess of things."

"Which is why," I added, "You two need to stick together so if Dad wants to be a creepy stalker again, he'll know we're together."

Both nodded and my heart warmed looking at them. They were idiots but they cared a lot for me, they would always go above and beyond to make me happy or smile when they knew something was wrong. I adored them as much as I enjoyed playfully bullying and messing with them.

"Thank you," I gratefully smiled at them, "This means a lot to me."

"I'm just looking for an excuse to help you get under Dad's skin," Dave cockily said but I knew he was just trying to be 'cool'.

A notification popped up on my phone screen which was in Eric's hand and I knew my cab arrived, it was time to leave.

"Alright, be good and I'll meet you back here in about two hours," I said to them.

"Good luck Mils," Eric leaned over to give me a half hug.

"Be good Mils," Dave winked, "And if your boyfriend hurts your feelings, I will gladly TP his house."

I knew he was having way too much fun insisting Mitchell was my boyfriend so showing him the finger, I made way out.

***

After thanking my driver and asking him to wait outside for me, I stepped towards the security point just outside the Clarke house, their security knew me since I was living there for just over a month, yet standing outside the gate felt very odd this time.

For the first time I was stopped before entering the home, the security guard outside enquired about who I was to visit. I was about to answer but before I could, the tall gates opened, and a black car was driving out.

I knew that car, it was Mason's weekly work car, I wasn't too sure if he was driving because the windows were tinted. The car stopped beside me, and the driver's side window opened, revealing Mason's face.

He was wearing sunglasses and looked to be in work attire, so I figured he was going into the office. He removed the glasses and seemed a little surprised but pleased to see me.

"Mila? What are you doing standing out here?" He wore a small frown.

"Hi, I was just about to ask security if Mitchell was in," For some reason, it felt very awkward speaking to him after knowing about the history he shared with my father.

Mason's eyed the security behind me then gestured for me to get in the car before saying, "Come on, get in, I'll drive you in."

"Thank you, but I can walk in," I said.

"No, we can have a chat over some coffee." He politely said and after agreeing, I walked around and got in the car.

"Next time Ms. Band – Brinson," He corrected himself awkwardly while sternly talking to the security, "Next time Mila is here, you let her in, no questions asked."

The security nodded, "Yes sir, but Mr. Clarke instructed that we first speak to him before anyone –"

I knew it, Mitchell must've made sure I wasn't allowed in, he was clearly still mad and didn't want to see me.

"I am Mr. Clarke, and I am giving you these instructions," Mason authoritatively cut him off, "I do not want to see Mila standing out like a stranger again."

An unsettling feeling was starting to bubble in my stomach, I was starting to doubt if coming over was a good idea. I felt terribly out of place, it was amazing that when I first arrived I felt more at home despite not knowing these people and now after being with them for so long, I felt like a stranger.

Mason drove out and drove around the block until he pulled up on the driveway once more and drove through the gates and towards the entrance of his house.

Funnily enough, the silence between me and Mason while I followed him into the house and the living room wasn't awkward, it felt quite comfortable actually.

Mason discarded his suit jacket and offered me a seat before he sat down opposite me.

"How are you?" Mason politely asked.

Before I could answer he asked one of the staff members to bring over two cups of coffee and some edibles to go with.

"Informed," I said with a small chuckle.

Mason let out a chuckle, "I take it your father gave you the rundown on our history."

"Not quite," I answered truthfully, "He didn't want to discuss it but Mandy – his wife – did the honor on his behalf."

Mason seemed to think over what he was going to say before he spoke, "I take it you aren't talking about your mother."

I shook my head, "Oh no," I hesitated for a moment, "Um, my mom and dad were never married... or in any relationship. I am the result of a one –"

"You are the best kind of gift your parents could ever ask for; you're a blessing," Mason cut me off, "I know how it feels to have a sense that you don't belong anywhere and consider yourself a mistake."

"But you are not, you're the best thing that could ever happen to Damien," Mason grinned at me, "And I hope he one day realizes that and treasures you."

I smiled gratefully at him and the awkwardness I felt entering the Clarke residence was slowly slipping away just by talking to Mason. I wished my father were more like him at times, listening to Mason, and just being in his presence made me feel more at home than when I sat with my father.

"Mas – Mr. Clarke," I began, "I swear when I met Mitchell I had no idea who the Clarke's were or what Mitchell came from, and when I did find out, I never cared or treated him any differently because of the financial status of his family."

Mason nodded, "Firstly, why are you being formal? Mason is simply fine," He grinned, "And you don't need to tell me that, Mitchell told his mother all of that before we even met you."

Hearing that was bittersweet, Mitchell held me in a different light then and he mentioned that I was different but I had a feeling that after my dad showed up, he didn't feel that way about me anymore.

"Until yesterday I also had no idea that my dad and your family had such a long history," I admitted, "Until last night, I didn't even know my father was from LA."

"I gathered," Mason mused, "From the way you were looking at him."

I took in a breath, "I know I shouldn't have hidden the fact that my last name was Brinson and not Bandera but..." I trailed off trying to understand how to explain it.

"My father and I have a very strained relationship; I mean we barely talk or see each other. He's a very... closed-off person and doesn't show much sentiment, he likes to keep his distance and I sort of understand why now."

"Damien has lost a lot in his life," Mason said, "I was like him once, I never liked getting close to people because I was so afraid of getting hurt when I eventually lost them. But as I grew and to be fair, my wife taught me that by pushing the people who matter the most away, I was hurting myself and them."

He said that perfectly, something I could imagine Carly saying. If only my father could see things in that way.

"Precisely," I agreed, "But my dad never saw things that way, to make myself feel better I preferred to just be Mila or Mila Bandera. It beat consistently being reminded that I have a dad who doesn't give two hoots about me."

It took a lot out of me to say all of that, I never said it out loud like that, it felt weird but also made me feel lighter to finally let it out.

"I understand, Mila," Mason gently said, "But I believe your father does care for you. A younger Mason would not be caught dead saying this, but Damien was always the good guy, he was and probably still is a gem of a person. He has a big heart, unfortunately, it's been broken too many times."

I was left speechless, if I had to compare the way my dad spoke of Mason to how Mason spoke of him, it was the polar opposite. My dad was so bitter towards anyone with the Clarke name and here Mason was saying such kind things.

We were interrupted when a tray of coffee, shortbread, and cupcakes was served. She left it to sit on the coffee table in front of us and poured two cups of coffee before handing one to me then Mason.

"Thank you," Mason politely said before asking, "Do you know where Mitchell is?"

She nodded, "He got back from his jog about fifteen minutes ago."

"Please find him and tell him I want to see him," Mason told her, "And make sure not to mention Mila is here."

She nodded and left the room. I was grateful to Mason for helping me speak to Mitchell because I knew if he knew I was there to see him, he would leave.

"Thank you," I smiled at him.

"Communication is important and believe me do I know how complicated things can be when two people don't talk out their issues." He replied.

I took a sip of the hot drink and said lightly, "I think you need to give my dad some life coaching."

Mason let out a laugh, "Damien Brinson taking advice from me? Ha, that would be the day."

Mason put his cup down and scrutinized my features for a moment, "I had an idea you were his daughter."

I was glad I wasn't sipping on the coffee or I would've choked on the liquid, my eyes certainly popped, and curiosity crawled its way into my mind. How could he have possibly had an idea? I didn't resemble my father much, apart from my eyes which were almost exactly like his – but I doubt Mason was that perceptive.

"I don't want to bring it up but my lawyer is handling your case regarding the Moab incident," He began and then it made sense, of course, a lawyer would find out my real name and other details, "My lawyer brought your full name to my attention and wanted to know if there was perhaps an error in signing your name on the statement you gave."

"I'm sorry," I meant it, "I honestly didn't think that far when I gave my statement, I should've been honest with your lawyer, but it didn't occur to me."

"Nothing to apologize about, I thought you had your reasons which is why I never brought it up or mentioned it to anyone else," He said, "Besides I wasn't one hundred percent sure, that was until yesterday afternoon when Damien showed up at the door."

I lowered my gaze and felt guilty for the mess my dad created by showing up, I was to blame too because if I had answered his calls or returned them in time, he wouldn't have taken the initiative to come over. I realized that Carly was my dad's ex and I hoped that didn't create any sort of misunderstanding between her and Mason.

"I hope after we left... and his presence didn't cause any sort of misunderstandings between you and Carly," I said to him, but it came out more like a question.

Mason shook his head, "Certainly not, I trust Carly more than I trust myself. The thought of Damien coming over because of her never occurred to me for even a second."

"Mitchell on the other hand," He drawled as he took a sip of coffee, "He's a little upset with everyone. On one hand, he understands why we never told him about Brinson – because it's the past and has nothing to do with him, but then he also feels that as a family we shouldn't have secrets."

'Mitchell and his no lie policy will be the death of him and everyone he cares about one day.'

"Sometimes I wish he were more like Katie," Mason said to himself, "She didn't even care to listen to the full story, she says leave the past in the past."

Mason was right, Mitchell was way too uptight for his own good, but I also understood why he was that way. Integrity and honesty meant a lot to him, it was an admirable and rare trait to have in today's times.

"You called Dad," I heard the voice I came to speak to from behind me, at the threshold of the living room.

Mason reassured me with his eyes before they averted towards where Mitchell stood. Hearing his voice picked up the speed of my heart, I was nervous to face him – for the first time in my life I was nervous to speak to someone.

Mason dropped the coffee on the tray in front and stood up, he walked off and I shut my eyes for a minute, composing myself and thinking about how I was going to approach this entire thing.

"Yes," Mason said, "But first I want you to be mature and calm about this,"

I could just picture the questioning look he was giving his father, his one hand was probably in his pocket – something he did often when he was standing – hair was probably a little messy and damp from his shower and his smell, oh boy, like always he probably smelled great.

I gave myself a mental pep talk and after a deep breath, I dropped the coffee cup on the table, stood up, and slowly turned around to see Mitchell standing at the door threshold. As I guessed, he was wearing sweatpants with one hand in the pocket, his hair was messy and I wasn't near enough to catch his scent, but his eyes, well