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It’s perfect. It’s the truth.

But then, I look at Sebastian. This isn't a PR crisis for him. This is the breakdown of the entire foundation of his life.

The cabin door of the jet lowers, and a set of stairs unfolds. For a long moment, nothing happens. Then, a figure emerges, looking down at the federal agents surrounding the plane, their weapons drawn as they shout at him.

Julian King looks like he could be on the cover of Forbes. Even under the threat of federal indictment, his cockiness and stoicism aren’t affected. He looks around, straightens his tie, then steps down the stairs with the casual grace of a man arriving at a gala, not a man being apprehended by the FBI at gunpoint.

“Stay in the car,” Sebastian says.

“Sebastian—” I start, but he’s already out.

I don't stay in the car.

I can't.

He’s not the only one who almost lost their career and had their heart smashed trying to clean up Julian’s mess. I push the door open and step out into the warm night air.

Aaron and Jesse follow, and we walk toward the agents’ SUVs, the wind whipping my hair across my face.

“Julian King, stop right there!” Mercer shouts, her voice carrying over the wind. “I have a warrant for your arrest for the bribery of a Department of Justice official and multiple counts of corporate fraud.”

Julian stops. He doesn't look at Mercer, nor does he acknowledge the agent approaching him with handcuffs.

He looks directly at Sebastian.

“You’ve always disappointed me, Sebastian,” Julian says. His voice is cruel, completely devoid of any fatherly warmth. “Why did I think this time would be any different? I suppose I should have expected you to run to the authorities the moment things got difficult. It’s a pity. I thought I raised a King, not a coward.”

I look at Sebastian, standing tall in front of the man who made him, and my hand drifts to my stomach. I wonder what kind of father he could be, if he were ever given the chance to be the opposite of this one. I wonder if he’ll ever get to find out.

Nobody moves as Sebastian steps forward, stopping a few inches from his father. “You didn’t raise me, Mom did. You tried to turn me into what you are, but you failed. You failed with all of us.”

“We're not running anymore, Dad,” Jesse says. “We're intentionally walking away.”

“You're going to prison,” Sebastian says. There’s no triumph in his voice, just a profound, exhausted sadness. “Agent Mercer has everything she needs. It’s over, and you lost.”

“I did what was necessary, Sebastian, just like I always taught you to do. A few years in a white-collar facility, a public apology, and you’d be back on top within a decade. But me? At my age? I am the company. If I fall, the stock price hits zero before the sun comes up.”

“You were going to let me go to jail for you,” Sebastian says, his voice surprisingly calm.

“It was a calculated sacrifice!” Julian snaps. “One you should have been honored to make for the family legacy. But instead, you chose this.” He gestures contemptuously at me, then at the FBI agents. “You chose a woman and the easy way out. You’ve destroyed the King name, Sebastian. Not me. You.”

Julian King is trying to recast himself in the story, making him the hero and Sebastian the villain.

The agent with the cuffs steps forward and orders Julian to turn around and place his hands behind his back. His eyes never leave Sebastian’s as he’s taken into custody, but Sebastian stands tall. As Julian is led away, the wind catches Sebastian’s suit jacket, and he looks like the king he was always meant to be—not the one Julian tried to forge. “The King name means more to me than a profit margin and the veneer of royalty,” he shouts after his father.

Julian doesn't go quietly. He spits a stream of venom and threats, his dignity trailing behind him like trash in the wind.

The door of the SUV slams shut, cutting off his hatred. Aaron and Jesse slowly retreat toward the car, giving us space. Sebastian stands still, staring at the spot where his father stood.

“Sebastian.”

He turns to me, the glare of the floodlights casting his face in shadow. He looks older, exhausted.

“He was really going to do it,” he says. “He was going to let me take the blame and go to prison for something he did.”

“He’s a monster, Sebastian. But he can’t hurt you anymore.”

His eyes study mine for a few seconds, then he shakes his head. “Maybe. But he’s left destruction in his wake, and we have to clean it up.”