Page 4 of My Ex’s Billionaire Brothers (Forbidden Hearts #5)

THEO

I stand at the wrought-iron railing of the Sins balcony, gazing down at the dance floor below.

The pulsing lights bathe the club in shifting colors, transforming the scene from moment to moment.

Even at this late hour, a respectable crowd lingers, though it has thinned somewhat as we approach closing.

But tonight, my mind is elsewhere—on the woman behind that office door, and on the dilemma that comes with her.

Hunter leans against the railing beside me, arms crossed over his solid chest. His shoulders look tense, even under his soft sweater.

We both have half an ear trained on the lingering guests and staff below, making sure nothing untoward happens on our watch.

But the real trouble is here, in that glass-walled office, where Gage is still with Anya.

I straighten the cuffs of my shirt, trying to focus on anything but the uncomfortable knot in my stomach.

Focus. Be logical. This is the mantra I repeat every time something is on my mind.

At the moment, I can’t think of anything but family and Anya, and the latter is a threat to everything we’ve built.

“You really want to hire her, don’t you?” I say quietly, forcing my tone to remain even.

Hunter exhales, gaze flicking away from me, toward the dance floor. “I do. She’s got nowhere to go, no support. We can’t leave her out in the cold, man.”

At the mention of her predicament, my chest tightens.

Anya Markoff. Formerly my brother Calvin’s fiancée.

Or so I must remind myself. I have always been privately fascinated by her sweet disposition, her brilliant blue eyes, and that gentle accent that comes and goes whenever she’s excited—or upset.

Yet I have never dreamed of acting on that attraction.

Even if Calvin is an insufferable asshole, one does not pursue a brother’s fiancée.

Now that they have broken up, it changes little in principle. She might be fair game to some, but not to me. That moral code is all that keeps me from the dangerous path my heart would otherwise sprint down. The idea of “pouncing on her,” as my more reckless side might want, is beyond the pale.

So I will do what I always do—keep my distance.

Still, the memory of her teary face earlier in the evening agitates me. The notion that she is in our office, sobbing, makes me ache to do something—anything—to help her. But that feeling is precisely why I need to push her away. She is a risk to everything I hold in balance.

Gage and Hunter might not seem like it, but they are the kind of men who will wreck themselves over a woman.

It’s up to me to rein them in. I don’t enjoy that aspect of our brotherhood, but it’s served us well over the years, particularly since we opened Sins.

Kink tends to bring in the troubled, and they’d pick up every stray if they didn’t have me telling them no.

Hunter shifts, turning to look at me. “We can’t just leave her high and dry. You know how Calvin is. He’ll drag it out or ignore her completely. Meanwhile, she’s got no resources.”

I steady my voice and remind myself of my plan.

“When you brought up hiring her, I understood why. But we both know that crossing that line would be a grave mistake. Calvin is already pressuring us to sell Sins, trying to sanitize his image for politics. With his cybersecurity business, he could make life difficult for us—interfere with our point-of-sale system, flame our website, or worse. I don’t want to poke that particular bear, especially when we’re trying to expand into Manhattan.

Involving ourselves further with Anya would be even more incendiary. It’s too much risk.”

His mouth twists with frustration. “You’ve got a point. But it still feels wrong.”

“I know,” I say. He’s right. It does. But that doesn’t change things. “Nevertheless, we must leave it to Calvin. This is his mess, not ours. I’m weary of cleaning up after that boy—and yes, I call him a boy, because he refuses to act with any maturity.”

“And your crush?”

“I didn’t bring that up for you to use it against me.”

“I’m not,” he says with uncharacteristic seriousness. “I just mean, this can’t be easy for you.”

An uncomfortable silence settles between us.

I run a hand over my neatly styled hair, feeling the faint crunch of product against my palm.

My reflection in the tinted glass behind us shows a man trying very hard to remain stoic and in control.

On nights like this, I’m reminded of how much I rely on that composure.

“It’s not easy. But that’s not what’s important right now.”

“Are you certain?” Hunter says, more softly. “She could use the help.”

“I’m certain,” I insist. “She is not our responsibility, but she will become my problem if I don’t maintain distance.” I press my lips together, looking him squarely in the eye. “You get it, right? We can’t keep cleaning up after Calvin. No matter the cost.”

Hunter’s shoulders slump, and he nods, albeit reluctantly. “Alright. You win. It’s probably too messy for us to hire her anyway, with him breathing down our necks to shut this place down or sell it. He’d never let us hear the end of it.”

“Precisely,” I say, relieved he understands. “Then it’s settled.”

He sighs. “Yes. It’s settled.”

For a moment, I feel the tension in my chest ease. Distance has long been my chosen remedy for most things . Let Calvin handle the damage he has caused.

Then Hunter taps the rail with his knuckles. “We should go back in. It’s getting late.”

I nod, tug at the lapel of my blazer to smooth it. “Let’s.”

I place my hand on the door handle, pausing to glance at Hunter one more time. He offers me a hesitant half smile, as if bracing himself for what we will see inside. I nod curtly, open the door, and step through.

Gage is standing off to the side of the office, arms folded across his hulking chest, his silver undercut hair glinting under the overhead lamp.

Anya sits in the corner of the couch, hugging her arms around her plump frame, the thick fabric of her dress bunched up under her fingers.

Her eyes are red, her face blotchy from weeping.

And yet, despite that sorrow, she is heartbreakingly lovely, with those wavy brown locks falling around her cheeks.

My mind goes blank for a beat. The resolution I formed just minutes ago evaporates when confronted with her raw vulnerability. She looks so forlorn, so defenseless. I have no right to feel protective toward her, not when my own logic forbids it. But the impulse is too strong to deny.

“Everything all right?” Hunter asks gently, stepping into the room behind me.

Anya glances up, tears threatening anew. “I—I think so. Gage was just…asking what I plan to do.” Her voice wavers, and she gives a half-hearted shrug. “I honestly don’t know.”

I force myself to remain in control, clasping my hands behind my back. “Calvin will help you, surely,” I say, trying to sound firm. “He is the one who put you in this predicament.”

She lowers her gaze to her lap, tears slipping down her cheeks. “He doesn’t care.”

She is not your responsibility.

But my eyes flick over her teary blue gaze, and something in me fractures. It happens too quickly for me to stop it, and before I even realize what I’m saying, my voice breaks through the silence. “What if we take you to Castle Beach ourselves?”

My own words shock me. Hunter whips his head around to stare at me. Gage unfolds his arms, brow knitting. Anya blinks, clearly caught off guard. A single tear tumbles from the corner of her eye.

“Castle Beach?” she echoes. “But that’s an eighteen-hour drive from here.”

“Yes,” I say, throat tightening. “I know. It is a considerable distance, but we can manage. That way, you need not remain in Boston with Calvin for the holiday. A temporary reprieve, perhaps enough time for you to figure out a plan with your parents’ help.”

A tremor runs through Anya’s shoulders. “But y’all have your own plans…” She pauses, thinking it through. “Calvin hates that you own this club. I don’t want to cause more friction. Thanks anyway.”

Gage steps forward, nodding gravely. “He’s a selfish dick, but that’s nothing new. We’ll deal with the consequences if this helps you get on your feet. Right, Hunter?”

Hunter drags a hand over the scars on his knuckles, meeting my eyes for a moment. I see the question there, as if he’s asking, Are you sure? But in the next instant, he gives a warm smile, turning to Anya. “Yeah. We can handle it. There’s no way we’re letting you fend for yourself.”

My overeager subconscious—the bastard who made me offer the road trip in the first place—must have known they’d both be on board. I sense Gage and Hunter both waiting for me to confirm it again, to see if I have changed my mind.

But I can’t look away from Anya’s face. Her eyes shine with fresh tears.

My chest constricts with a confusing swirl of guilt and longing.

So much for avoiding entanglement. Yet, seeing the faint spark of hope in her eyes is worth the potential backlash.

I’d give anything to see her happy again. “As they said.”

She swallows, glancing from one of us to the next. “Are you sure? An eighteen-hour drive is not nothing, and you have your business?—”

I raise a hand, cutting her off as gently as I can manage. “We insist. We can make the trip, and it might even do us some good to get away for a while.”

For a few seconds, she is too emotional to speak. She sets her lips into a thin line, blinking back tears. Then, at last, she gives a small, tremulous nod. “I…I guess I should say yes,” she whispers, voice ragged.

“Indeed, you should.” I dip my chin in acknowledgment, feeling my composure slip just slightly in the face of her gratitude.

This is a mistake, the logical part of my brain insists once again, but I cannot muster regret.

All I can think is that it is worth every risk if I can keep that light in her eyes, if I can help her forget the pain my brother inflicted.

She draws in another shaky breath. Her voice, though subdued, carries a quiet resolve. “Then, I guess my answer is yes.”