Chapter 249: [4.6-7] Dumb Martyr Complex
The entire room held its breath.
Vivienne had gone perfectly still, her tablet dark on the table in front of her. Harlow’s hands covered her mouth, her eyes wide and wet. Sabrina had set down her book, which should have been my first warning that this moment actually mattered.
Iris was recording on her phone because of course she was.
"Put the phone down," I said without looking at her.
"But this is PEAK—"
"Iris."
The phone disappeared with a dramatic sigh.
I looked at Cassidy first. Really looked at her. The girl who’d threatened to ruin my life on day one and had instead taught me that stubborn and smart weren’t mutually exclusive. Who colored her homework in rainbow highlighters and bit her lip when she concentrated. Who’d sat on my lap and asked me to make her my pet like it was the most natural request in the world.
Then at Harlow, whose sunshine personality hid so much careful people-pleasing that she’d forgotten how to say no. Who made me play car games and bought me manga and bit my neck while wearing vampire fangs because she couldn’t figure out how else to say she cared.
Then at Vivienne, ice queen extraordinaire, who’d fallen asleep on my chest and called me Papa in her dreams. Who kissed me in bathrooms and adjusted my collar seventeen times a day because she couldn’t figure out how to just hold my hand.
Then at Sabrina, who saw everything and said nothing until the perfect moment. Who trusted me enough to fall asleep on my shoulder in the library. Who’d kissed me against a freezer door and told me she wanted me with the kind of certainty that made my brain shut down completely.
Four disasters. Four complications. Four girls who should have been completely out of my league and completely out of my life.
Four girls I’d somehow fallen for anyway.
"This is insane," I said finally.
Cassidy’s grip tightened on my shirt. "That’s not an answer."
"It’s a terrible idea."
"Still not an answer."
"Your mom’s gonna murder me and hide the body where even Sabrina can’t find it."
"Probably," Sabrina agreed helpfully.
I stood, forcing Cassidy to step back or risk getting stepped on. My hands found her waist automatically, steadying her, and the contact sent heat through my palms that had nothing to do with the temperature.
"I can’t afford you," I said quietly, looking between all four of them. "Any of you. I’m a scholarship case from Kensington who eats instant ramen and sleeps on a couch. You’re billionaires who have entire rooms dedicated to storing clothes you’ll never wear."
"So?" Cassidy’s chin lifted. "Money’s just money."
"Money’s never JUST money—"
"It is when you have enough of it." Her hands covered mine where they rested on her hips. "And we have enough. So that’s not actually the problem."
"The problem," Vivienne said carefully, standing with her usual grace, "is that you’re afraid."
I looked at her sharply.
She walked around the table, her silk robe trailing behind her like she was crossing a boardroom instead of a breakfast nook. When she stopped beside Cassidy, the two of them standing together made something click in my chest.
Identical faces. Purple eyes. Wine-red hair catching the morning light.
Completely different girls underneath.
"You’re afraid," Vivienne continued, "that if you let yourself want this, want us, we’ll disappear. Or your job will disappear. Or Iris’s future will disappear. Or all of it will disappear and you’ll be back where you started."
My jaw clenched. "That’s not—"
"It’s exactly that." Sabrina had moved too, appearing at my other side like a shadow. "You’ve spent eighteen years learning that wanting things is dangerous. That caring about people means they leave. Your dad left. Your mom left. Everyone leaves."
"Except Iris," Harlow added softly, still seated but leaning forward. "She stayed. So you think she’s the only one who will."
I couldn’t breathe. The four of them had me surrounded, their combined focus turning the sunny breakfast room into something that felt like an interrogation.
"You’re wrong though," Cassidy said. Her thumbs traced circles on my hands. "We’re not going anywhere."
"You can’t promise that."
"Watch me." She smiled, sharp and wicked. "I’m stubborn as hell and I don’t lose bets. You think I’m gonna put in all this work learning your stupid quadratic formulas just to walk away? Please."
"I have a color-coded contingency plan," Vivienne added. "For literally everything. Including this."
"Of course you do."
"It’s a very good plan."
"It’s a SPREADSHEET," Cassidy interrupted. "She made a relationship spreadsheet."
"It’s not a RELATIONSHIP spreadsheet, it’s a feasibility analysis—"
"Same thing!"
"It is absolutely NOT—"
Harlow started giggling. Then Cassidy joined in. Then even Vivienne’s perfect composure cracked into something resembling a smile while Sabrina’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
I stood in the middle of four laughing billionaires and felt something in my chest crack open.
"You’re all completely insane," I said.
"Yes," they agreed in perfect unison.
"And this can’t possibly work."
"Probably not," Sabrina allowed.
"And your mom’s gonna destroy me."
"Absolutely," Vivienne confirmed.
"And I’m definitely gonna get fired."
"Maybe," Harlow hedged. "Or maybe we’ll convince Mom! Stranger things have happened!"
"No they haven’t."
"Isaiah." Cassidy’s voice dropped lower, serious in a way that made me actually pay attention. "Stop listing reasons why it won’t work and tell us what you actually want."
"I want—" The words stuck in my throat.
What did I want?
I wanted Iris to have a future that didn’t involve worrying about rent. I wanted to stop waking up at 4:30 AM to catch trains that smelled like desperation and defeat. I wanted to eat meals that didn’t come from vending machines or gas stations.
But underneath all the practical survival shit?
I wanted Cassidy’s fire and the way she looked at me when she solved problems she thought were impossible. I wanted Harlow’s sunshine and her terrible vampire voice and the way she made everything feel lighter just by existing in the same room. I wanted Vivienne’s rare smiles and her competent hands and the vulnerability she only showed when she thought no one was watching. I wanted Sabrina’s quiet trust and her rose emojis and the weight of her sleeping on my shoulder like I was safe.
I wanted all of it.
All of them.
Which was completely ridiculous and absolutely impossible and definitely gonna end in disaster.
"I want," I said slowly, "to not be an idiot about this."
Cassidy’s eyes narrowed. "Elaborate."
"If I do this—" I paused. "If we do this, whatever THIS is, I need to do it right. Not as your employee. Not as the help. Not as some secret you’re all keeping from your mom."
"Agreed," Vivienne said immediately.
"Which means I probably have to quit."
"NO!" Harlow’s voice pitched high. "You can’t quit! We just got you!"
"Harlow—"
"We’ll figure out the job thing," Vivienne interrupted, her brain already clearly spinning through logistics. "There are other positions. Other arrangements. We can restructure the contract—"
"Your mom put a morality clause in my contract specifically to prevent this."
"Then we’ll get you a different contract. A better one. One that doesn’t include morality clauses or Mom’s approval." Vivienne’s eyes flashed. "I run point on legal compliance. I can make it work."
"That’s not—"
"Let her work," Sabrina said quietly. "She’s good at impossible logistics. It’s her love language."
Vivienne’s cheeks flushed but she didn’t deny it.
I looked at Iris, who’d been suspiciously quiet through this entire exchange. My sister met my gaze with an expression that was way too knowing for someone her age.
"Don’t look at me," she said. "I already told you my opinion last night. Multiple times. In detail. With charts."
"You made charts?"
"I CONSIDERED making charts but decided that was Vivienne’s thing." She waved her hand dismissively. "Point is, you’re an idiot if you say no. These girls are stupidly into you and you’re stupidly into them and the only thing stopping you is your dumb martyr complex."
"It’s not a martyr complex, it’s called being RESPONSIBLE—"
"It’s called being SCARED." Iris stood, her small frame somehow commanding the entire room. "You’re scared that if you let yourself be happy, something’s gonna take it away. Like Dad did. Like Mom did. Like everyone does."
The air in the room went sharp.
"But guess what?" Iris continued, softer now. "These girls aren’t going anywhere. I can tell. I spent like twelve hours with them yesterday and they wouldn’t shut up about you. Harlow talked about your dumb face for forty-five minutes. FORTY-FIVE MINUTES, ZAY. Just your FACE."
Harlow covered her burning cheeks. "I did NOT—"
"You described his bone structure like you were taking an anatomy exam!"
"That’s—I was just—it’s a nice face!"
"It’s an OKAY face," Cassidy interjected. "I’ve seen better."
"You literally told me his jawline could cut diamonds," Iris shot back.
Cassidy’s ears went pink. "I was JOKING—"
"You saved the photo I took to your phone!"
"FOR REFERENCE!"
"Reference for WHAT?!"
"SCIENCE!"
