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Axel tilts his head toward the gruesome pictures, and I follow the direction until my gaze lands on an image that makes my stomach turn.

I tilt my chin down, closing my eyes.

What the fuck am I supposed to do with all of this? If Axel is correct, then that means not only is he using Stratos to launder the dirtiest of money, my father has also committed himself to harming the most vulnerable.

That image—that man who stands on the island—isn’t the Chuck Sandoval I know.

That’s not my father.

Something isn’t right.

“What am I to do with this information?” I ask, finally tearing my eyes away from the screens and turning to face Axel.

He leans over the back of his computer chair, his forearms resting on dark leather.

“Well, you have two options, really. Option one: you continue about your life. You leave Stratos and all that’s connected to it alone. You go work somewhere else in finance or go a completely different direction. At some point, either the Feds or the Grim Reaper will catch up to your dad and he’ll have nowhere to run.”

I blink, a slow slide of my eyelids closed and open again.

“Okay. And option number two?”

Axel shifts, looking at the floor with a lost look, as if he doesn’t want to say his next phrase.

After blowing out a breath, he stands up tall and looks at me directly.

“Option number two is you talk to your dad. You try to get him to see the light and come out of this. You live with the fact you know what he’s done, but you’re going to ride with him if he decides to do the right thing and stop this shit from happening. You’re also going to know that as soon as he bails, there will be a target on your head forever. You’ll be running. You’ll be hiding. So will he. But at least he’ll have something to say when he looks the Lord in the face on his judgment day.”

Axel rocks from side to side, still keeping his forearms on the chair back.

“And if he doesn’t come clean—if he continues on despite you asking him not to, well, you have a choice to make. Stay blind or walk the fuck away from everything you’ve known. Because it’s all tainted. Your entire legacy is rotten from the core out.”

After that bomb lands, we both stay silent—Axel watching for my reaction to his proposed scenarios, all of which have consequences I’m not sure I can live with.

So what the fuck am I going to do?

“Let me know if you find anything more,” I say, mumbling the words, but it’s clear Axel hears me, nonetheless.

“Let me know what you decide. I’ll help you either way,” he says.

With a final nod of acknowledgment, I say nothing more and walk out the door.

24

SHAE

If I weren’t so conflicted, I’d probably be well on my way toward getting a complex when it comes to Storm Sandoval.

It’s been a week since I found out about Harvard, and it’s the biggest elephant that has ever been in the room. Yenn, Ezra, and my parents are all under the assumption that I’m going. Why wouldn’t I?

Why wouldn’t I, indeed.

But Storm and me? We don’t talk about Harvard or me leaving or our fight or, hell, what it means for us. So I pretend it doesn’t matter, either.

I pretend the issue of Harvard doesn’t exist. At least, not until I reach the confirmation deadline in a few months.

March 15thseems like forever from now, but also like the date is seconds away.

Storm and I aced our presentation, and we’re finished with the co-written paper we’ll have to submit to Professor Hansen in a few days. Finals week is upon us, and Christmas is around the corner.