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Win notices too, and his eyes narrow.

Mason clears his throat. “To begin, Tris, would you mind repeating our conversation from yesterday?”

I do, explaining how I ended up at Dimitri’s establishment and how this has compressed the timeline in terms of theDimitri problem, but it has not created the situation. “We were always coming to this.”

Mason nods. “I agree. I’ve been the aggressor in terms of shutting down his involvement in Las Vegas.”

“You’re not alone,” Killian grunts behind me. “Let’s not forget, he riddled my loft with about a thousand bullet holes while Chloe was there. He’s not forgiven.”

Mason jerks his chin in agreement, before he looks at me. “I’m aware that in asking you to complete the hostile takeover, I’ve placed you in a tenuous position.”

I wave my hand. “I was a willing participant. It was the right business move for the future of Smith Brothers.”

“And was nearly tossing it all away on a maid the right choice?” Win rumbles, entering the conversation.

“Win,” I warn. “You will respect Honeyeh, and what’s more, you will give me the grace that I’ve earned.”

Win stares back with hard eyes.

Mason frowns at my brother. “If I may share my experiences…. With two of my brothers, I asked them to prioritize the business over their budding romances. It didn’t work out either time.”

Win snorts. “My brother does not have a budding relationship. He has rules. One of them is no emotional entanglements.”

“I can speak for myself. I do not need you to explain my choices,” I fire back.

“Fine. Then I’ll speak for myself. You should have acted with more care yesterday. You might not have created a situation, but you certainly made it worse.” Win’s jaw is hard enough to cut glass as he glares with hard eyes.

I glare back. He’s not wrong.

But it’s Gris who speaks next. “He was supposed to allow Honeyeh to be auctioned?”

“He was supposed to allow her to suffer the consequences of her own actions. Yes.” Win stands, staring down Gris.

Mason pushes up too. He starts to speak but I hold out my hand. This is between me and Win. “When was the last time you sacrificed anything for this family? Answered to anyone?”

Silence fills the room. “I am the leader of this family. I don’t answer to you.”

“Bullshit.” I’m off the desk. “If you were, you’d understand a leader sacrifices most of all.” I step up, my finger in his face. “What do you give up, playing polo all day? Sitting in the house of Lords?”

I see his face spasm. But I don’t let up.

“The man at the helm, he makes the hard choices, they belong to him. And he takes the consequences too.” What I don’t say, but I’m beginning to understand, is the weight of my burden was killing me, until Honeyeh. That her being in my life has made it all worthwhile.

Without her, I was about to not be me. And if they make me choose, it will be her.

“What the fuck does that mean?” He leans down an inch from my face.

“You can come here and add your opinion,” I say slowly, like I’m not spitting mad, “but we both know the man who is going to do anything, who will be mired in the action, who will suffer the consequences of the choices, will be me. Bitch about my choice if you want, but don’t pretend you understand the weight of the tough calls. You fucking don’t.”

“With me, none of this would have happened.”

I’m done with that argument. “Take it over, then. Have at it. I’ll build my own?—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Gris growls behind me. I turn to my brother, preparing to fight. But his glare is focused on Win. “If Triston walks, I go with him.”

Win’s lip curls. “Fucking twins.”

“No,” Ryker points at Win. “It’s not that. It’s that Triston has always been the bow of this ship. And his decisions navigate our ship.”