The drive to Tribeca is silent.
Bree’s hand stays in mine the whole way.
When we reach the penthouse, the door barely closes before we’re on each other, making up for every painful word with touch and breath and the desperate need to be close.
It’s not gentle.
Forgiveness written in sweat and skin.
Afterward, we lie tangled together in my bed, and I can’t stop touching her.
Her hair, her shoulder, the curve of her hip... like I need constant proof she’s still here.
That she stayed.
At 7:32 Friday morning,my phone rings.
I’m awake, have been for an hour, watching Bree sleep. Still can’t quite believe she’s here.That after everything, she chose to stay. The early light catches in her hair, and something in my chest loosens.
Whatever comes next, I don’t face it alone.
Dom’s name on the screen pulls me back.
I answer. “Did you see it?”
“I saw it.” My brother’s voice is rough with emotion. “I’m proud of you, little brother. I’m releasing my own statement, like you asked. Supporting you. Publicly.”
The words hit me somewhere deep. The place where all the old wounds live. The scar tissue that never quite healed.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“Yeah.” Dom sounds like he’s smiling. “I do. You asked. So of course I’m going to release a statement.”
He hangs up.
I look at Bree, who’s just starting to wake up, the morning light turning her skin to gold.
The statement is live. My phone is already exploding. The board meeting is in six hours and Martin Hale is probably drafting his attack right now.
But in truth, as I watch her wake up in my bed, I don’t feel concerned at all. Instead, I feel... at peace?
It’s the strangest sensation.
Like the most important thing I have in the world is right here.
And I’m not drowning anymore.
27
Nico
Friday mid-morning. The board meeting looms at 2 PM like a scheduled execution.
My statement hit early in the AM. By 7, every business outlet in the country was running some version of “Rossi CEO Admits to Decade-Old Manipulation Scheme.” By 8, the headline writers got creative. My personal favorite is “Pattern of Control” from the Post. Real subtle.
At 8:30, Dom released his own statement backing me up. That should have felt like a relief.
Instead I spent the next two hours in my office watching my phone explode while Bree fielded calls at her desk with the kind of ruthless efficiency that makes me want to bend her over it.
