Page 95 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends

“You want to explain how it got this far?” someone else snaps.

“We’ve had more drama in the last month than we had in the last five years,” another voice chimes in. “Sex scandals, HR complaints, public resignations?—”

“Unstable leadership,” Edison says, almost pleasantly. “And let’s be honest, things weren’t this chaotic when Vivian was running the firm.”

He’s had this job for an hour. What the actual fuck. I clench my jaw.

“Vivian’s personal life was in shambles when she started,” Edison continues, “and she still managed to keep this business on track.”

I lean forward slowly. My voice is low. “Heather already resigned. Would you like to do the same?”

The room stills. Dead quiet.

I sweep my gaze across the table. “Any of you. There’s the door. You don’t like how I’m handling it? Leave. Now.”

Silence.

Edison’s smile doesn’t slip, but the light behind his eyes flickers. He wasn’t expecting that. He thought I’d play diplomat. Take the jab. Swallow the blood. Not today.

Harrison’s voice cuts through the tension. “I’m with you, Gavin.”

Everyone turns.

He doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t shift in his seat. He just says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I always have been. I always will be.”

That cools the room.

A few board members look away, suddenly very interested in their notepads or their phones. One clears her throat and asks about quarterly forecast alignment. The tension doesn’t vanish. But it simmers down enough to keep the roof on.

We go through the motions after that—how to replace Jack, the hiring freeze now that Edison’s settled in, whatever.

I’m not really in the room anymore. Because all I can hear is Edison’s voice echoing in my head.Things weren’t this chaotic when Vivian was in charge.

That part sticks in my teeth like gristle.

And I know exactly what I need to do next. I get up without a word, feeling too many eyes on me. Only one pair of them matter—Harrison. But he can’t help me right now.

By the timeI pull up to the gate, my jaw’s still tight and my hands are stiff on the wheel. I haven’t been here in twenty years.

Twenty-five? I can’t remember.

The last time I saw this house, I was a teenager. Vivian had just finalized a divorce that had dragged on for years. My father had moved out—public enemy number one in a scandal he never defended himself against. Not publicly. Not to me.

All I knew then was the headlines and what Mom told me.Hollywood heartthrob cheats on powerhouse publicist with aspiring actress.Photos of him leaving someone’s apartment. Vivian’s dignified statements. Me sitting on the stairs with my fists balled up, wondering how he could do that to us.

But now? Now I’m not so sure what I know anymore. With Vivian investing in Icon PR, none of it makes sense. At the moment, nothing feels like it makes sense. Not Mom. Not Parker. Not me.

The gate opens automatically when I pull forward. Security must’ve cleared my name after I called from the road. I hadn’t expected Jamison to answer himself, but he did—calm, amused, curious. Told me to come by.

I wasn’t expecting that either.

The estate is immaculate. Stucco and terracotta with a view that eats the city whole. Perfect landscaping. Expensive silence. It all feels smaller than I remember. But then again, I’m not a kid anymore.

Odette greets me at the door. She’s wearing white linen, her hair swept back, glass of something citrusy in her hand like she’s permanently on the third day of vacation. “Gavin,” she says, smiling like she didn’t help blow up my childhood.

I nod politely. “Odette.”

“Come in. He’s on the back patio. I’ll let him know you’re here.”