Page 102 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends

“This place will fall apart without me!” Edison shouts.

I lean forward slightly, all teeth. “You’ve had your position for a day, you self-important ass.”

Edison storms toward the door, his steps slow and uneven, like he’s playing to a camera crew that doesn’t exist. When he gets there, he stops, hand on the knob, shoulders tense. He waits. It’s obvious. He wants someone to call out. To stop him. To beg.

No one does.

“I’m leaving!” he announces to no one in particular. “None of you can stop me!”

I snort. “No one’s trying.”

Jack cracks up beside me. “Please let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.”

Edison tries to slam the door, but it’s got one of those soft-close hydraulic hinges—the kind that slowly pulls the door shut with a whisper and a sigh. The look on his face when it fails to match his dramatic exit is priceless.

The second the latch clicks, the whole boardroom erupts into laughter.

Gavin lets it roll for a second, then taps his earpiece. “Security, Edison Reynolds is no longer employed at VT Global. Please see him off the property.”

He ends the call and looks up at us. His expression is clear, unwavering. “We start clean. Right now.”

It’s a strange thing, watching a room recalibrate itself in real time. One moment, there’s a man shouting about order and values and how we’ll never survive without his guidance. The next, he’s gone, and what’s left is…clarity.

No one rushes to fill his seat. No one suggests a pause or proposes tabling the discussion. No one even acknowledges the paper still scattered on the floor. That’s what it looks like when a structure finally crumbles under its own weight—and no one wants to rebuild it.

I sit back in my chair and let the silence stretch just long enough to soak in the shift. It’s not just about Edison. He was just a cog. Vivian’s cog. This is about the air finally clearing. About the smoke dissipating after years of political back-channeling and optics-first bullshit. It’s about finally naming the rot and saying, “No more.”

Gavin doesn’t gloat. He doesn’t lean back with a smirk or raise his voice in triumph. He just adjusts his cuff link and looks at each person around the table like he’s seeing them for the first time—and daring them to see him right back.

“I know some of you are still processing,” he says calmly, “but let me be clear—this is the beginning of a new phase for VT Global. We’re not walking away from what makes us excellent—we’re walking away from what made us dishonest. That includes every tactic we’ve inherited from a culture built on image over substance. Keep the dossiers. They’re reminders of a rotten past that we are moving beyond.”

He lets that land.

“No more silent alliances. No more private punishments. We work for our clients. We protect them. But we don’t lie for them. We don’t destroy people to make a headline disappear.”

There’s a beat of quiet. Then someone—one of the international partners—nods. “And if the board has concerns?”

Gavin meets the man’s eyes. “Then the board is free to find another CEO.”

The room goes still again, but it’s not heavy anymore. There’s something else stirring in the quiet now. Respect. Maybe a little awe. No one challenges him.

Gavin takes a breath and nods toward the end of the table. “Unless there’s anything else…this meeting’s adjourned.”

Chairs scrape softly as people rise. Some move with purpose. Others hover, unsure of what happens next. A few approach Gavin quietly, shaking his hand or exchanging low-voiced assurances. A handful gather their folders like they’re holding relics. No one touches Edison’s seat.

Jack stands beside me, watching the room. He doesn’t speak, just tucks his hands into his pockets and waits like he’s thinking through a dozen moves at once. I rise too, slower, feeling the way the energy in the room has tilted.

Gavin comes around the table toward us, his expression calmer now but still sharp.

“Thanks for being here,” he says to Jack.

Jack just nods. “Didn’t want to make you say it twice.”

“I meant what I said. If you want back in?—”

Jack holds up a hand. “Not today. Let things settle. I’m still figuring it all out.”

Gavin nods once, then turns to me. “You okay?”