Asher's jaw tightens. "Better suffocated than in Darius's hands."
The words hit too close to the truth, and something sharp breaks out of me. "What's the point of surviving if I can't live?"
Kayden stares at me like I just cut him open. "So risking your life for a few hours pouring drinks atCole's—that's living? Being with us isn't? Pretty low standards, if you ask me."
I lift my chin, holding steady. "It's not about the drinks. It's about reminding him, and reminding myself, that I'm not owned. That I have agency in my own damn life."
It's true. But not the whole truth. And I can feel the guilt burning, forcing me to shove it down before it shows.
My tone softens. "Darius knows me. He knows what being locked away would do to me. He'll wait. And sure, it's only been a week now. But then it'll be a month. Then a year. How long do you expect me to sit here, doing nothing, waiting for his next move?"
Kayden looks ready to explode, but Asher cuts him a look that stills him.
The older brother turns back to me, calm but edged. "She has a point." Then, softer, "We'll think about it. All right? For now, can we enjoy breakfast?"
I nod, forcing myself to butter a piece of toast like everything's normal.
Inside, I hate this. Hate that I caved to Darius, that I gave him my word. Hate that I want to hear what he has to say. But if his truce holds, if it keeps everyone safe, that's the least I can do for my friends. And for my husbands.
After how this conversation went down, though, I know one thing clearly: I can't tell them the whole truth. They'd chain me to the bed, lock every door and window, and declare it a honeymoon vacation.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sage
When the brothers announce the next day that they're fine with me going back toCole's, I'm surprised.
I don't push, but suspicion sits heavy in my chest. They agreed too easily, which means they're hiding something, just like I am.
Protecting each other while lying through our teeth—what a perfect little family we make.
Kayden drives me, cracking jokes the whole way, easy as ever. But his hands grip the wheel too tight, his glances too frequent. He masks the reluctance, covering the part of him that wants to turn the car around and drag me back to the house.
When we pull up, he leans over the console, voice low. "Now be good, wifey. I'll come pick you up after your shift. Don't go alluring half the bar into your orbit."
I smirk. "Can't promise anything." Then I slip out before he can say more.
Yeah. Too easy.
Inside,Cole'sis buzzing, fuller than I've seen it. Jace is behind the bar in a dress shirt and suspenders, looking like he walked straight out of a New York speakeasy and lost hisway. A little out of place, but that's Jace—endearing, in his own overpolished way.
"Jace," I call, tugging on my apron. "Help is here."
"Thank the gods," he mutters. "I sorely need it."
I glance at the packed tables. "Who are all these people?"
"Out-of-towners," he says, flicking his chin toward a table of men in tailored suits. "Some from other counties, some from out of state. Word's gotten around about Darius's big deal. Entrepreneurs sniffing around, seeing if they can latch on, offer add-ons, whatever."
He eyes them with a mix of longing and something heavier.
"And here you are, stuck behind the bar," I guess.
His shoulders slump with a sigh. "That obvious, huh?"
I arch a brow. "You've got ideas, don't you?"
He nods reluctantly. "Quite a few. I looked into green industries back in New York. Renewable energy, tech, startups… lots of opportunities. I've got notes, research, outlines even. But these guys?" He nods toward the suits again. "They already have their companies. I don't even know the fine print of the Hawthorn deal to make a real pitch." He catches himself and adds quickly, "Not that I'd ever work with him."
