Page 55 of Filthy Rich Ex's Brothers

“You don’t understand,” Graham says in that deep, steady hum.

“Serena,” Ryan says, “Just wait. Hear us out?—”

I turn and look at Travis, and he holds my gaze for a moment. I’ve heard nothing from him since that hotel room, and now that I’m seeing him again, I feel exactly how much it hurts. I wait for him to say something, want him to say something aboutme. Caring about me. Wanting me safe. It might not be enough.

But maybe.

Travis doesn’t say any of those things. Instead, hands clasped together, he says, “It’s the right choice, Serena.”

Something in my chest deflates. Turning to the door, I say, “Yeah, well, Alex can throw as much of a fit as he wants. I’m done letting him dictate my life.”

And with that, I walk out of the office. As I head toward the elevator, I half expect to hear them on my heels, calling after me. Trying to convince me that I should come with them.

I’d be lying if I said no part of me wanted to. Of course I do—I’m drawn to them. I’ve been drawn to them since the first time I saw each one of them.

But maybe it’s time I stop letting that part of my brain call the shots. That’s what I’ve been doing since everything happened with Alex, and all it’s done is get me into this sketchy situation.

I don’t know what to do about Alex.

But I do know one thing—I’ll feel better if I go home.

So, that’s exactly what I do.

Chapter 30

Travis

“Well,” Ryan says, perusing the bar in my private office. “At least you have the good shit.”

We’re at my place just outside the city. It’s the kind of house Bruce Wayne might have grown up in, with tall gates, a long, winding road through the woods, and several elaborate fountains situated around the circle drive out front. It’s one of the older English-style properties with expansive gardens, and plenty of room to breathe.

Typically, I stay at my high-rise in the city. But that’s not going to be a good idea for the coming weeks.

“You really think he’s going to do it?” Graham asks, his stare burning a hole in the top of my desk. “Go full Stephen on us?”

“I don’t think anyone can do it like our father could,” I admit, swallowing down my own shot of whiskey. I don’t drink like this often—ever, really, with the way it affects cognitive processing—but right now, I need the soft burn to keep my cool.

Especially since Serena insisted on staying behind. On not coming with us.

It took everything in me not to scoop her up and take her anyway. There were rumors, growing up, that our father did a lot more than reputation-targeting for the worst of his enemies.That there were a few unfortunate souls staring down the barrel of a muffled gun at the behest of the eldest Oakley man.

But Alex wouldn’t do that to Serena. It would be mad. He might be a whiny, insolent kid, but he’s not a murderer. And I’d wager he wouldn’t even know the first place to go to hire a hit man. Times have changed since our father was at the top of his game.

Even so, I had Dianne contact a personal security company. There’s an armed protection agent sitting outside Serena’s house. She got home okay. And we’re going to make sure she stays that way.

“But he’s going to try, huh?” Ryan asks, giving us a wary look from his spot leaning against the far wall.

“I think he is, yes,” Graham mutters.

Ryan knows about our father. In the way that guys do, I’ve told him about it. Nothing flowery, but a simple description of the man Stephen Oakley was. The rigorous expectations. The threats toward his enemies. He ruled every part of his life with an iron fist, including how he parented us.

That is, except for his relationship with Bonnie.

My mother was not the great love of Stephen’s life. And neither was Alex’s. Bonnie—Graham’s mother and the one Stephen cheated on mine with—was a little Southern belle, the kind of carefree woman who can really only come from some sort of wealth.

She was visiting the city when my father saw her, and from that day forward, he was different. When he was with Bonnie, he even became softer with me. For a while, guiltily, I didn’t mind my parents’ divorce, even with the strain it put on my mother. If it meant Stephen was nice to me, that was preferable. Plus, my mother was happier after the separation, even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud.

Up until now, I’d never understood how Bonnie changed my father. Now, it makes a lot more sense to me. Now, knowing Serena, I understand how a woman can sweep in and change what you thought you knew about yourself.