"I mean... it could?"
Lucas, standing with his arms crossed, let out a small snort.
The other heirs of the Romero house—about a dozen of them, just stared at me. Blankly. No blinking. No expressions. Just a room full of judgmental brats staring like I was some kind of caveman.
"Wait... is this guy really that monstrous cousin we've all been hearing about?" one of them muttered under his breath.
Another heir, a short guy with a long face, frowned. "I thought he'd be... I don't know, more intimidating?"
"Yeah-" another cousin sis of mine with tied-up blonde hair whispered, "but he's scared of a helmet."
Meanwhile, the 16-year-old Pixie? Oh, she was laughing her ass off.
"Hahahaha! Noah, you should see your face right now!" she crackled, holding her stomach. "Oh no! A scary little machine! What if it bites?! Kekeke!"
I shot her a glare, my face heating up. "Shut up."
