Page 115 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends

Maybe it should feel strange, but it feels natural.

I glance down at my hands, flexing my fingers like I’m testing the weight of something I can’t see. “I didn’t grow up with much.”

Jack glances over, but he doesn’t speak. Gavin just waits.

“We didn’t have a car. Our apartment had cracks in the ceiling and mice in the walls. My mom turned tricks to make ends meet. I spent most of my time in the back alley or at the public library. I figured out early that money didn’t fix everything, but it sure as hell helped.”

Gavin sets his bottle down. Jack stays still.

“Vivian took me in, thanks to you.” I nod toward Gavin. “And I owe her. Even now. She saw something in me before anyone else did. For that, I owe her.”

“She also weaponized you,” Gavin adds gently.

I nod. “Yeah. But that’s not the part I carry. What I carry is this—someone gave me a chance when I had nothing. And now I want to give that to someone else.”

The room is quiet for a long moment.

Then Jack says, “You’re gonna be a good dad, Harrison.”

I huff out a breath. “Sure as fuck hope so. It’s not like I had any good examples among Mom’s johns.”

He snorts at that. “No, I don’t imagine you did.”

After a while, Jack’s draped sideways on the couch, one arm over his eyes. Gavin’s nursing his beer, eyes half-closed, legs stretched out like he finally let himself take up space. I stay seated in the armchair, elbows on my knees, looking out at the skyline I used to think was unreachable.

It’s strange, having everything I ever wanted—and realizing it’s not enough.

Not in a greedy way. I’m not trying to climb higher or grab more. But there’s this low burn inside me, this nagging voice that won’tshut up, even now. Especially now. A part of me that can’t just sit still and say, “I made it,” because I know there are too many people out there like me—kids scraping to survive, waiting for a hand that may never come.

I worked for everything I have. No one gave it to me. Vivian opened a door, sure, but I had to fight to stay inside the building. I swallowed my pride, silenced my own voice, made myself smaller just to be allowed in the room. Now, I own the damn room. And it’s not enough.

I want to do something that matters.

Not just provide. Not just build equity and hand down a trust fund. I want to create something bigger than legacy. Something with reach. Something that outlives me.

“You ever feel like we’re still behind?” I ask.

Jack groans without opening his eyes. “Define behind.”

“I mean…we’re winning, right? On paper. Money. Careers. Parker. The kids. A baby on the way. It’s everything we said we wanted.”

“And?” Gavin says without moving.

“And I still feel like I haven’t done anything that matters. To the world, I mean.”

That makes them both stir. Jack squints at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You just torpedoed Vivian’s real estate grab and kept over twenty families in their homes. That matters.”

“That was personal. I want to do something to help people outside of our family.”

Gavin studies me. “You want to make a bigger impact.”

“I don’t want to just protect what we’ve built. I want to offer it. To someone. Anyone. I don’t even know what that looks like yet, but it’s been itching at the back of my skull for weeks.”

Jack leans forward now, serious. “What do you want to build?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. Something for kids. For the ones like me. The ones falling through cracks no one bothers to patch. I don’t want to just pay my taxes and feel good about it. I want to fix something.”

They’re quiet for a second. Then Gavin nods. “Let’s figure it out.”