Page 39

The courtroom is packed.

Reporters, strangers, people who have no stake in this but want to watch a powerful man fall. I sit next to Mr. Coleman, my hands clenched together so tight my knuckles hurt. My father is ahead of me, standing straight, face unreadable. He hasn’t looked at me since we walked in.

The judge starts speaking. I hear words like fraud, conspiracy, obstruction of justice—all the shit I already knew. Then the sentence.

Fifteen years.

A five million dollar fine.

No parole for the first eight years.

The words land like a fucking gut punch. My father stays still, absorbing it the way he does everything like it’s just another business deal gone wrong.

I don’t move. I don’t breathe.

And then it’s over.

He’s escorted out.

I don’t even get a last look before he’s gone.

The second I step outside, cameras flash in my face.

“Eli! What do you have to say about your father’s sentencing?”

“Did you know about his crimes?”

“Are you involved?”

I shove past them, jaw clenched, ignoring the microphones shoved in my face. My head is pounding. A bodyguard pushes people back, clearing a path, but it doesn’t stop the voices.

“Eli, are you worried about your family name?”

I get to the car and slam the door shut. My chest heaves. I drop my head back against the seat.

“Just drive,” I mutter to the driver.

The house is too quiet.

Too fucking empty.

I stand in the living room, staring at nothing. The silence presses in, making everything worse. I walk to the cabinet in the corner, pull open a drawer, and grab the small pendant tucked inside.

It’s old. Faded. Inside is a tiny picture of my mom.

My fingers shake as I hold it.

Everything I’ve been shoving down — every ounce of anger, grief, loneliness — slams into me all at once. My throat tightens, and I press the pendant to my lips, squeezing my eyes shut.

I breathe in.

And then—

The tears come.

I sink down onto the couch, gripping the chain, and just fucking cry.

My phone rings.

I wipe my face, try to pull myself together before answering. “Yeah?”

“Eli?”

Sienna.

Her voice makes something sharp twist inside me. I clear my throat. “Hey.”

“Hey. You okay?”

I swallow. My voice is hoarse. “Yeah.”

“You don’t sound okay.”

I rub my face. “Long day.”

There’s a pause. Then—

A knock on the door.

I sit up, frowning. “Hold on.”

I pull open the door, ready to tell off whoever the fuck is bothering me—

And freeze.

Caleb stands there, hands in his pockets. And next to him—

Sienna.

My chest tightens. “What the fuck—”

“She was worried about you,” Caleb says.

“You—” I blink at him. Then at her.

Sienna shifts, looking uncertain. “We have to fly back tonight, but…”

I don’t let her finish.

I grab her and pull her into me, wrapping my arms tight around her. She stiffens for half a second before melting into me, her hands pressing against my back.

I close my eyes. Just breathing her in.

Caleb clears his throat. “Uh. Should I just—”

“Shut up,” I mutter, not letting go.

I stare at them. “How the hell did you even find this place?”

Caleb grins, all proud of himself. “Talked to your lawyer before we got here.”

I shake my head. “What the fuck?”

Sienna shifts, watching me. “Are you okay?”

I exhale, rubbing a hand down my face. “I think it’s just hitting me now.”

She nods, her eyes soft, like she’s trying to figure out what to say. But she doesn’t push.

Caleb, meanwhile, is wandering through my living room, picking up one of my old hockey medals. “Damn, look at you. Been racking up trophies since you were, what, five?”

I chuckle. “Something like that.”

He puts the medal back, turning to me. “You okay, man?”

I glance between them. My chest is tight, but not in a bad way. “I’m glad you guys are here.”

Sienna smiles, and Caleb claps me on the back. “Yeah.”

I clear my throat. “I’ve got my stuff at the hotel I was at last night. We can swing by, grab it, then get out of New York together.”

Sienna nods. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

The hotel is quiet when we pull up.

Caleb orders dinner on the way. “No way we’re dealing with your depressing-ass energy on empty stomachs,” he says.

I roll my eyes but don’t argue.

We head up to my room, and I grab my bag. Sienna watches me from the doorway, like she’s waiting for me to say something.

Instead, I zip my bag, sling it over my shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

Back at the townhouse, Caleb kicks off his shoes and stretches like he owns the place. “Okay, so dinner is on the way. Now, important question—do we get naked now or after the food gets here?”

Sienna groans. “Jesus, Caleb.”

I huff out a laugh. The first real one all day. “Let’s at least eat first.”

Caleb shrugs. “Fine. But I’m just saying, stress relief is a thing.”

Sienna shoots him a look, then turns back to me. “So... what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

I glance at her. “I was thinking we’d sleep in, then head out.”

Her lips press together. “I can’t. My dad.”

Caleb leans back against the couch. “You could just tell him the truth.”

She shakes her head. “What the hell? No, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’d rather not deal with that conversation right now.” She sighs, already pulling out her phone. “I’ll think of something.”

We watch as she dials. The second her dad picks up, her whole voice shifts.

“Hey, Dad,” she says, all casual. “Yeah, I just got caught up with some research. It’s a whole thing — nine case studies, really fascinating.” A pause. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be back by morning.”

Another pause, then she hums like she’s listening. “Mmhmm. Okay. Love you too.”

She hangs up and grins. “We’re good. We just have to leave by five.”

Caleb smirks. “Works for me.” He shrugs off his jacket. “So, back to the naked thing—”

I shake my head, but there’s a small smile tugging at my lips. For the first time today, I don’t feel so fucking alone.

Caleb chuckles, shaking his head. “Pace yourself, man. We’ve got all night.”

I exhale sharply, gripping the edge of the bed, trying to rein myself in. Sienna’s sprawled out beneath us, lips swollen, eyes glazed, skin flushed. She looks wrecked in the best way, and we’re just getting started.

She whimpers as Caleb trails his fingers down her thigh, teasing. “You like being our puck bunny, huh?”

Her nod is frantic, desperate.

“Use your words,” I murmur, tilting her chin up so she looks at me.

“Yes,” she gasps. “I love it.”

Caleb grins. “That’s what I like to hear.” He moves lower, pressing his mouth to her skin, leaving marks as he goes. I watch, stomach tight, fingers twitching to touch her again.

“You’re not being fair,” she whines, hips lifting, trying to get more.

“Fair?” I laugh, glancing at Caleb. “She’s got jokes.”

Caleb smirks, pressing her down with one hand. “Patience, baby. You wanted this, remember?”

She groans, hands fisting the sheets. “You’re torturing me.”

“That’s the point,” I say, leaning in, brushing my lips against hers. “You take what we give you.”

She doesn’t argue. She can’t when we’re both working her over, keeping her right on that edge and pulling her back. Over and over. Her body jerks, thighs shaking.

“Let go,” Caleb murmurs, voice coaxing, teasing. “Let’s see how pretty you can be for us.”

Her body seizes, and I feel it, the way she shatters. A strangled sound rips from her throat, back arching, and I swear I’ve never seen anything more perfect.

Caleb laughs, dragging his hand through his hair. “Damn. You’ve got her dripping all over the sheets.”

Sienna slaps at his chest weakly. “Shut up.”

I pull her against me, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You good?”

She nods, breath uneven. “I think you broke me.”

I grin. “Not yet.”

Caleb hums in agreement. “We’ve got all night, sweetheart. And we’re not done making memories in this house.”

My chest tightens a little at that. I don’t usually get sentimental, but yeah. This place? It’s seen a lot. And now? Now it’s perfect.