Page 117 of Vegas with my Ex’s Best Friends

I reach for Andrew with my other hand. Ethan comes back and slides his fingers into mine on the other side. We stand there in the suite like that, all four of us connected, and I feel the moment shift into something different.

“Tomorrow,” Ethan says. “We figure out the rest of it tomorrow.”

Liam blows out a breath. “Together,” he says. Like a verdict.

“Together,” I say.

It doesn’t fix anything. But we’re still in the same room, all four of us, and that matters.

Chapter forty-one

Chapter Forty-One—Ethan

I’m already in the back of the car when the worst scenarios start playing out.

Liam leans against the open door, arms crossed. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I do,” I say. “Harrington wants a clean conversation. No audience.”

Andrew stands beside him, watching me the way he does. “If he pushes you toward cutting Connor loose, you shut it down.”

I don’t answer. I close the door.

The city moves past the window. I run numbers I’ve already run. Every outcome. Every variable. None of them fully hold.

By the time I walk into the private dining room at the club, my face is under control. Harrington rises, shakes my hand, and gets straight to it—one of the things I’ve always respected about him.

“The partnership has developed a key-man risk,” he says. “Connor Monroe’s recent behavior—canceled meetings, personal conflicts affecting the partnership—has investors concerned about governance stability. Two canceled meetings in forty-eight hours is enough to trigger a review on our side.”

“The operational side remains on track,” I say. “Deliverables are holding.”

Harrington nods like he expected the response. “We like the team. We like the vision. But we need certainty. One path forward is to restructure. Remove the point of friction.”

He lets that sit.

“Buy Connor out. Adjust equity. Whatever form it takes. The deal closes cleaner. Better terms. Fewer conditions.”

“And Connor?”

“Exits with a strong position. Generous terms. Clean narrative—differences in vision, strategic realignment. Nothing that impacts valuation.”

I sit back. “Convenient.”

“Effective,” he says. “Which is what you’ve always wanted.”

He’s not wrong.

The numbers line up the moment he finishes. Cleaner cap table. Faster close. More control—exactly the version I spent three years positioning for. It would take twenty seconds to say yes.

I sit with it.

One version: clean, fast, controlled. The deal closes. Everything I’ve built locks into place. Riley and the baby have financial certainty. No scrambling.

The other version: Connor stays. We take the hit. The timeline stretches. The board gets a seat. We give up ground.

And somewhere across town, Riley is carrying something none of us planned for, trusting that I’ll make the right call.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I wait until Harrington steps away before I check it.