Billions.
Not millions. Not some modest trust fund.Billions.
I opened my mouth to ask something—how, why, what the fuck—but Jacob whooped and Gideon grabbed me by the arm and suddenly I was being dragged toward the volleyball net, and the questions evaporated in a wave of noise and energy.
It was like we were kids again. Raucous. Having fun for the sake of having fun.
We played three-on-three beach volleyball for an hour. Caleb, Jacob, and Lucas on one side. Me, Ethan, and Gideon on the other. The scores were tight. The competition was fierce.
Jacob dove for a ball and came up with a mouthful of sand, cursing. Ethan spiked one so hard it left a crater in the sand on their side. Lucas trash-talked like his life depended on it, and Gideon just grinned and set me up for kill shots like we'd been practicing together for years.
We tied two games to two. Nobody cared.
I was laughing so hard my ribs hurt. My lungs burned. My legs felt like jelly. And I realized, standing there with sand in my shoes and sweat dripping down my back, that this was fun I'd never thought I'd have again.
I wondered why our father wasn't here. I didn't ask. Just wondered. Maybe Byron Dane knew his boys needed their time alone.
When the match was over, we descended on the crawfish like locusts. Sausage. Corn on the cob. Potatoes. All of it boiled in spices that made my eyes water and my mouth sing. Beer flowed freely. Whiskey appeared. One of the servers kept refilling glasses like it was his sacred duty.
It was a full-on party. And I was having the time of my life. I didn't realize how much I'd missed this. How much I'd missedthem.
We ate until we couldn't move, laughing and shoving and stealing food off each other's plates like we were teenagers again.
Caleb told a story about the first time he'd met Meghan. Jacob talked about Camille showing up in his life like a force of nature, challenging everything he thought he knew. Gideon described meeting Hazel, how she'd been guarded and had somehow wormed her way into his heart, anyway.
Ethan just smiled, quiet and content, and when he finally spoke, it was about Natalie. About a woman who could command a room full of politicians and still make him feel like the only person who mattered.
And Lucas described Lexi like she'd stepped out of a dream he didn't know he'd been having.
I thought about Amelia. About the way she'd looked at me this morning, eyes soft and trusting. About the way she'd laughed when my brothers roasted me.
I wanted to tell them about her. About us. About how she'd stood on the veranda last night and held me together when I was falling apart.
But I didn't.
Not yet.
Some things were still too new. Too fragile.
When we were finished—full to the point of pain—we dragged the folding chairs down to the water and sat in a long row, feet in the surf, drinks in hand.
The sun was lower now, casting long shadows across the sand. The water lapped at our ankles, cool and steady.
For a while, nobody said anything.
Then Caleb spoke.
"So," he said. "What was your military career like, Levi?"
I blinked. "What?"
"Your career," he said. "What'd you do? Where'd you go?"
I glanced at the others. They were all watching me, curious and attentive.
"Uh," I said. "Intel, mostly. Counterintelligence. A lot of time overseas. Middle East, Europe. Some stuff I can't talk about."
"Paris?" Jacob asked.
