Page 30 of The Final Contract (The Black Ledger Billionaires #5)

B eing with Seraphina feels easy. Natural. Like I’ve been meant to sit beside her all along. Watching her with her family, hearing her laugh spill into the night, I catch myself thinking about things I don’t usually let myself think about.

Like how my mother would love her.

She’d take one look at Sera—all fire and sharp edges, with a heart she tries to hide—and she’d adore her. The thought’s dangerous, but it settles in me anyway, curling somewhere deep where I keep things I don’t want to lose.

The night’s winding down, most of the guests long gone, and it’s just us now—Sera, her sister, Daniel, and me.

Plus the two plainclothes I arranged. She hadn’t even realized who they were until I pointed them out earlier, and the shock on her face had been worth it.

Good men. They blended in exactly like they should.

We’re gathered around a fire pit in the backyard, the soft crackle of flame carrying over the quiet. The plainclothes at the front of the house. Daniel’s got a beer in hand, leaning back easy, and the girls are off on one of their stories, laughing so hard they can’t finish a sentence.

“This one patient,” Stasia starts, wheezing through her laughter. “Didn’t realize we were twins. Total dickhead. So?—”

Sera chimes in, grinning wide. “So we didn’t tell him. Everyone on the floor played along.”

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, smirking at the way their laughter feeds off each other.

“He’d see me one shift,” Stasia says, “then Sera the next—and every time he’d swear something was off. Different shoes. Different lipstick. Hair pinned one day, loose the next.”

“And we just played dumb,” Sera finishes, eyes bright with mischief. “Let him drive himself crazy trying to prove we weren’t the same person.”

They collapse into laughter again, heads tipping together like it’s the oldest joke in the book. Daniel shakes his head, grinning despite himself.

And me? I just sit there, taking it in. The glow of the fire, the sound of their laughter, the way Sera’s eyes catch the light. It feels like family. It feels like home.

All day, I’ve watched Daniel with Stasia. The little touches, the way his hand finds her waist, the way she leans into him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And I’ve envied him for it.

Because I’ve wanted the same with Seraphina. Wanted to hold her hand, rest my palm on the small of her back, pull her against me just to feel her there.

But I didn’t.

Because this thing between us—it’s barreling toward a place we’ve been pretending not to see. And we’re both getting to the point we don’t care anymore.

Me? I’m already there.

She’s been sitting beside me on the wicker loveseat, her thigh brushing mine every so often, and every brush has been torture. So when Daniel gets up to fetch Stasia another beer, he bends and kisses her before stepping away.

That’s it for me.

I look at Seraphina. She’s wearing the happiest, easiest smile I’ve ever seen, and she’s looking right at me.

“Fuck it.”

I pull her flush against me, tilt her chin up, and kiss her like I’ve wanted to all damn day. My arm locks around her waist, holding her close, and my stomach drops when she kisses me back—her hand slipping onto my thigh, fingers curling on my knee as she leans into me.

Daniel passes behind me, patting my shoulder once on his way to the cooler. “About time.”

Stasia’s grinning too, her smile full of approval as she looks at her sister—at us.

And that does something to me. Cuts deep, because I know how much Sera and her sister love each other.

That bond? I’ll never have it with my own brother.

Cormac and I are too far gone, on opposite continents even when we stand in the same room.

Daniel returns, settling back into his chair, beer in hand. He points at Sera. “So, tell us. Hardest patient you ever had. Which one made you finally get out of there?”

Sera takes a deep breath. “Oh, gosh.” She chews her lip, thinking. “Not sure if it was one in particular or just the buildup, but…one of our last nights in the ER together was brutal.”

Stasia nods. “Yeah. That one was rough.”

I glance between them. “What happened?”

Sera’s voice softens. “Drunk driver accident. Couple in the car, and they brought all three in. The woman was in the worst shape. Stasia’s team took her first, but it was going bad.

They called me in too. There was so much blood…

” She shakes her head, eyes distant. “Seeing what the collision did to her body was awful. But what made it worse was…she looked like us. Blonde. About our age.”

Her voice cracks, just a little. “I was doing chest compressions while they tried to save her, and all I could see was Stasia. Couldn’t stop picturing it. Couldn’t do it anymore after that.”

The group falls quiet. Even the fire seems to hush, just the crackle of wood filling the silence.

Then Sera lifts her chin, smirking faintly. “So I decided becoming a full-time whore would be better.”

The tension snaps like a string, and everyone bursts out laughing.

I throw my head back, laughing with them, but my arm stays locked tight around her, keeping her close.

I t’s late when we leave, the McLaren humming under my hands as I ease us onto the dark stretch back toward the city. I’m not racing this time. I keep it steady, giving her the quiet she needs after tonight. I also don’t want this day to end.

That story she told—about the crash, about the girl who looked like her sister—I could see how it dragged her back into the blood and the memories.

But now she’s watching me. Not haunted anymore. Not just that.

Her fingers drift to my hand on the gearshift, tracing lazy circles across my knuckles. She doesn’t say a word, just looks at me with those eyes—hot, heavy, full of need. Fuck-me eyes.

“You want to know what I was thinking about the last time you drove me home from my sister’s?”

Her thighs clench, squeezing together as she shifts in her seat. She’s wetter by the second. I know it—can damn near smell it—because I’ve seen this look before. “How badly I wanted to come over there and bounce on your cock.”

That’s all I need to know.

“Take your panties off,” I order, voice sharp in the quiet.

Her breath hitches, but she obeys, sliding them down her legs and tossing them aside.

I whip the car onto a lonely shoulder, engine still purring low, and pull my cock free, thick and aching. My gaze cuts to hers. “Climb on, angel.”

She straddles me quick, the cramped cockpit forcing her close—closer than I can breathe. The second she sinks down onto me, I groan.

“Fuck, yes.” My head falls back, eyes squeezing shut at the way her heat takes me in.

But this time, I don’t steer it.

She palms my chest, pushes me back into the seat. Her fingers slip under the hem of my shirt. “Take this off,” she demands, voice husky.

I peel it over my head and toss it aside.

Her hands are on me instantly, exploring every line of muscle, nails grazing my abs. She pinches one nipple, hard enough I suck in a breath, and a dark chuckle spills from me.

“Christ, angel.”

She leans in, mouth hot on my neck, sucking until I know she’ll leave a mark. Her hips roll slow, deep, using me for every ounce of pleasure she wants.

“Ride me,” I rasp, my hands gripping her ass but not guiding—just holding on. “Take what you need.”

She kisses my jaw, then my mouth, grinding harder, moaning into me. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she bounces in the tight space, her pace rough, greedy.

“Take this cock any way you want, baby, because it’s yours.”

I can’t stop the groans tearing out of me. I don’t want to. Watching her take control—watching her use me—has me strung tight, ready to snap.

“You own every fucking inch of me.”

I yank the thin straps of her sundress down her arms, tugging her tits free of her bra.

My mouth is on them in an instant—sucking, biting, devouring.

She moans loud, nails scraping through my hair as she rides me harder.

Her ass slams down against me and the car horn beeps every time she bounces on my cock.

She braces behind her and flicks on the windshield wipers, which move as fast as her pace.

She shudders, head dropping back, and I can feel her clenching around me, dragging me closer to the edge with her.

“Fuck, Sera,” I growl, pulling her back to me, devouring her mouth as I spill deep inside her.

For a long minute, we don’t move—just cling to each other, breathless, sweaty, wrecked in the best way.

Her forehead rests against mine, her body trembling in my lap.

And all I can think is—this is it. This is exactly what I want for the rest of my life. Nights like this. Days ending with Seraphina in my arms.