Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Not even Drew, apparently. Some small part of me always thought he knew. His family had been there that day, too.
“I’m in,” Lee says suddenly, breaking the tension. “This sounds way more interesting than debugging the trust fund baby app I’ve been working on.”
“Sebastian?” I prompt, turning to the most cautious of my friends.
He considers for a long moment, gaze moving between me, Arson, and Lilian. “The Harlowe will is likely a public record. Accessing it should be straightforward, assuming it wasn’t sealed for some reason. I’ll make some calls.”
Relief washes through me. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he cautions. “I’m not promising results, just effort.”
Drew is the last holdout, his expression unreadable as he studies Arson. “You’re really going through with this? Taking down your own family?”
“Not my family,” I correct. “Just Patricia and Richard. And anyone else involved in whatever they’re planning for Lilian.”
“Same difference,” Drew shrugs. “The Hayes name, the Hayes empire—it’s all connected. You bring down one piece, the rest follows.”
“That’s the idea,” Arson confirms, a savage satisfaction in his voice.
Drew nods slowly. “All right. I’m in. But we do this my way—careful, controlled, no unnecessary risks.”
“Your way,” Arson repeats skeptically. “The way that involves betraying your best friend to his long-lost twin?”
Drew’s expression hardens. “I made choices I’m not proud of. We all have. I’m here now, trying to make it right. I let things slide, I wasn’t as observant as usual, and I apologize for that. But that is the last I’m going to say about it. Drop it and accept our help, or get the fuck out.”
“How noble,” Arson sneers.
“Can we save the pissing contest for later?” Lilian interrupts, frustration evident in her voice. “We have work to do.”
“The lady has a point,” Lee agrees, already pulling out his laptop. “Where do we start? Patricia’s emails? Medical records? The will?”
“All of it,” I say, the weight of command settling back on my shoulders like a familiar coat. “Sebastian, start with the will. Lee, see what you can find on Patricia’s medical connections—focus on anything related to the Hayes Enterprises. Drew—”
“I’ll secure transportation and a safehouse,” he finishes. “Somewhere off the grid but comfortable enough for extended use. You’ll need somewhere safe to go after the fallout at least.”
“And us?” Lilian asks, gesturing between Arson, herself, and me.
“We stay here tonight,” I decide. “It’s secure enough for now, and we all need rest before whatever comes next.”
“I’m not sleeping here,” Arson objects immediately.
“Then don’t sleep,” I snap, patience finally breaking. “Stand guard, pace the halls, give the mirror dirty looks—I don’t care. But we’re staying put until morning.”
“Fine,” he bites out. “But I’m not letting her out of my sight.”
His possessive tone ignites something ugly in my chest. “She’s not your property, Arson. She doesn’t belong to you.”
“Or to you,” he counters.
“I don’t belong to anyone,” Lilian interjects, voice tight with controlled anger. “And I’m standing right here, so stop talking about me like I’m not in the room.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, embarrassed by my behavior. “You’re right.”
Lee whistles low. “Damn, Hayes. Never thought I’d see the day you apologized to anyone.”
“Shut up, Lee,” I growl, in no mood for his commentary.
“And he’s back.” Lee grins, unfazed. “The Aries Hayes we know and tolerate.”
Sebastian clears his throat. “If we’re staying the night, I’ll need to make some calls. Reschedule my morning appointments.”
“Do it.” I nod. “And order food. I’m starving.”
“Pizza?” Drew suggests, already pulling out his phone. “Like old times?”
“Like old times,” I agree, a strange nostalgia washing over me. It feels bizarre, this attempt at normalcy in the midst of chaos. Playing at being college friends again when everything has changed.
As the others fall into familiar patterns—Lee setting up his equipment, Sebastian making calls, Drew ordering food—I notice Lilian slipping toward the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask, sharper than intended.
She flinches at my tone, and guilt immediately floods me. “Just getting some air,” she says. “There’s a lot of testosterone in here.”
“I’ll come with you,” Arson says, already moving to her side.
“No.” She holds up a hand, stopping him. “I need a minute. Alone. I’ll be right outside, okay? You can watch me through the window if you’re that worried.”
Before either of us can object, she’s gone, the door closing softly behind her.
“Nice job, Brother,” Arson says, contempt dripping from every word. “Very smooth.”
“Like you’re any better,” I shoot back. “Hovering over her like she’s going to break if you look away for two seconds.”
“At least I don’t snap at her for breathing wrong.”
“I didn’t—” I cut myself off, recognizing the futility of arguing. “Forget it.”
I move to the window, watching as Lilian steps out onto the drive. She grips the railing of the steps, head tilted back to look at the pale imprint of the moon rising into the dusk, and something in my chest constricts painfully.