“You did well, Ty. Thank you so much.”
He smiles gently, but I see the storm behind his eyes as they drift past me. His gaze hardens.
I follow it—my mother.
She’s sitting silently, head bowed, hair falling over her face like a veil of shame. For a flicker of a second—just a sliver—I feel something. Maybe guilt. Maybe pity. I don’t know. But it burns out fast, replaced by every scar she left on me.
I gently squeeze Tyler’s wrist.
“It’s okay, Ty,” I murmur, pulling his attention back to me with a small smile. “I’m okay.”
He doesn’t believe me. I see it in his eyes. But he nods, pulls me into one more quiet embrace. This one is Softer. The kind of hug that doesn’t try to fix anything—just says I’m here.
And in the background, I feel Alex’s presence like a wall, solid and unmoving. Watching me and holding me all together.
THIRTY-NINE
ALEXANDER
I watch Lucas stir in his sleep on our bed, mumbling softly under his breath, his face buried into the pillow like he’s trying to disappear inside it. His arms are wrapped tightly around it, curling his whole body like he’s trying to hold himself together.
His curly blonde hair falls messily across his forehead, those soft strands brushing against his skin, and his freckles are faint shadows over his cheeks. The way he looks, even like this, does something to me. That face of his… that maddening, perfect face that’s somehow both delicate and sharp, boyish and ethereal, like the universe couldn’t decide which direction to go and just gifted him with both.
He looks so fucking beautiful even in his sleep that I forget how to breathe most times.
So beautiful, I forget how to think.
Every little thing about him wrecks me — the way his lashes flutter, the way his lips part just slightly, the way his brow furrows like he’s still fighting something in sleep. He doesn’t know how much power he holds over me. How his smile makes my fucking chest ache, how all I want is to get on my knees and worship him and tell him just how much I’d kill for him, how far I’d go to protect him.
How much I need him around just to breathe right.
I grind my teeth, my jaw clenched so tight it aches, as my mind flashes back to two days ago. The rage that still lives under my skin feels fresh again.
Tyler’s voice had been panicked and tight when he had called.
Anton had been asking me to check in on the progress of one of our construction sites with him, a new build just on the outskirts of the city. I was already halfway there when the call came. I didn’t even think. I had made Mike take a detour to the address Tyler had provided.
I sat in that car with every second feeling like a century, as I made calls to my men, and then to my family’s digital intel team because they would be the ones to trace everything about that fucker Oliver, and they got the job done.
Then I walked into that hellhole of a trailer
Oliver, standing there with a fucking gun aimed at Lucas.
And Lucas… sitting there. Still. Quiet. Holding it all in.
But the moment his eyes met mine, something shifted.
I saw it. That flicker. That breath.
The surprise in his eyes, but underneath it, the hope in them.
And it nearly broke me.
But I held it in. I had to. One wrong move, and I could’ve lost him. One second too fast, and he could’ve been ripped away from me. I couldn’t risk that.
Still, the calmness in his eyes… the steadiness, the strength, it made me proud.
It made me focused.
