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The media is relentless.

“Charles, Taylor, how are you dealing with the fallout from Sir Ian being arrested?”

“How do you feel about him pleading not guilty and his claim that your partial recording is made from coercion?”

“Do you have a Plan B if the court throws out the recording?”

“Taylor, how can you stay with the nephew of your rapist?”

“Are you worried this case may impact your company?”

Gritting my teeth, I ignore the vultures as I help Taylor out of the car. The paparazzi have been relentless for the last two weeks after we finally learned the truth of what happened to Taylor all those years ago. We’ve both taken time off work to process everything.

Taylor connected Maddy with Olivia, who’d help the girl find a good therapist. My minx has also been calling Maddy every other day to check on her.

I sent my cell phone recording to the authorities. But unfortunately, it was a partial recording because my cell phone broke in the scuffle and that was all the tech guys could recover. Elias and Emerson are still combing through Archambeau’s hard drives right now, no doubt hacking their way inside, but that may take some time. Maddy is willing to testify against Ian and her rapist, but our lawyers have advised us the defense may push back, saying she accepted monetary gifts among other things and didn’t come forward when the assault happened.

They never believe the women.

That was what Taylor told me before, and seeing it unfold in front of me, even with the Anderson and Vaughn influences and resources, I know it was a hundred times worse for her back then.

It sickens me to the core.

There are still too many men from that night unaccounted for—the other sick bastards who did unspeakable acts to other women, but unfortunately, Ian has done a one eighty since he was arrested. He isn’t talking. My guess is, he’s afraid of The Association. After all, the bastard who spiked Taylor’s drink was murdered in jail. Rumor has it he wanted to give up names for a more lenient sentence. And Ian killed Archambeau—The Association surely wouldn’t be okay with that.

Taylor has been quiet these days. But sometimes, I’ll catch her staring out the window as the news plays in the background, a haunted look in her eyes. The news has been reporting the latest updates on the case and the likelihood of Ian being convicted. I know she’s worried.

It makes me wish I killed him that day. I know she didn’t want his blood on my hands, but every time I think about what the bastard did to her, I want to break into prison and personally shove a shank up his ass.

Then, there are the other sickos still out there, hiding under the cloak of The Association, which will be impossible to take down given the group isn’t even a legal entity. All these issues keep me up at night and I find myself tugging Taylor close to me as I stare at the dark ceiling, my mind swirling with fury and grappling with the recent events on top of the complete betrayal I have toward my uncle.

It’s a devastation I can’t describe, to find out you don’t really know a person you thought you knew well.

How can someone so loyal and kind to me and my siblings also be capable of such horrific acts?

I don’t think I’ll ever understand.

But as I stare at the woman bravely facing the cameras, her head held high, her gaze defiant, I’m also hit with an overwhelming sense of love and admiration. This warrior, her soul crushed and body scarred, is still standing up tall. She has chosen to love me, to believe in me, to be with me.

Taylor glances at me, her brow arched high as she stops in front of the crowd of reporters. Narrowing her eyes, she snatches the microphone from the nearest reporter.

My lips twitch. Badass Taylor, no finesse as always.

“Aren’t you guys asking the wrong questions?” she says as the cameras flash around her.

I stride to her and curl my arm around her waist, biting back a smile at the fierceness in her voice.

Taylor continues, “Am I the only person who’s capable of understanding Charles is his own person and has nothing to do with the actions of his uncle? Why is this even a question?”

They hurl more questions at her but she raises her hand and says firmly, “I’m not done. The bastard has taken enough of my life from me and I won’t entertain him taking more of my time. Your focus should be on the other women who have spoken up, the other victims who haven’t had justice. Those are your stories, not me and Charles.”

“Charles, what are your thoughts on this matter?” A lanky reporter waves his microphone in my face.

I tug Taylor closer to me, relishing in the strength and warmth emanating from her. My fierce minx . I look at the reporter in the eye and respond, “I echo everything this strong, brilliant woman next to me just said. We believe justice will prevail in the end. We’ve also set up a fund for legal, mental health, and investigation costs for sexual assault and rape victims to help them find the help they need in the darkest of times. My company will release more details next week. Thank you for your support.”

Without another word, I twine my hand with Taylor’s and we head inside Manhattan Memorial Hospital. Despite the insanity going on in our lives, the paparazzi doing a much better job than any bodyguard at shadowing our every move, Taylor said we shouldn’t stop living our lives.

She wanted to meet Firefly and tell her what happened because she knew it would be hard for me to do it—to tell Firefly the truth about our beloved uncle.

Taylor’s gruff exterior, her dark makeup, and prickly thorns, hide the most beautiful soul underneath. I don’t know how I was blind to that for so long.

As soon as we step out of the elevators to the long-term care unit, we’re met with pure chaos. Monitors are beeping loudly, the sounds jarring on the normally quiet floor. Nurses and doctors are dashing down the hallway, wheeling machines and carts, barking orders.

Frowning, I scan the commotion and see Julie coming our direction, her strides hurried, a determined pinch on her forehead.

“Julie!” I call out, and she whips her head toward us and skids to a stop. “What on earth is going on? Is everything okay?”

Julie’s eyes widen, her lips curving into a smile. She grabs my arm. “I was just about to call you. She’s awake!”

Taylor gasps and I feel her clutching my wrist.

My heart stops and the room blurs around me. I’m sure I misheard. “W-What?”

“Your sister! We’ve never seen a miracle like this before. She woke up fifteen minutes ago, completely out of the blue. Your brother is here and saw it happen. We are gathering a team to assess her.” Julie’s eyes shimmer with tears. “You’ve been waiting for this day for almost eight years—you were right about having hope. I’m so happy for you guys!”

My pulse roars in my ears, my lungs heaving in rapid breaths. Before I’m even cognizant of what I’m doing, I’m sprinting toward Firefly’s room, Taylor quick at my heels.

She’s awake.

The words echo and slam against my skull. Please tell me I’m not dreaming and if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.

I burst into Firefly’s room, finding Liam by the bed, clutching her hand. His face is wet with tears as he smiles—a wide smile I haven’t seen from him in years.

He looks up at me and stands. “She’s awake, Charles.”

My palms grow sweaty as I slow my steps down and walk past the en suite bathroom, which blocks the view of her bed.

Excitement laces my blood as I step closer, taking in Firefly in still-framed snippets.

Her legs under the blanket.

Her slender arms and delicate hands.

And finally, her. My sister. Propped up against the headboard and looking at me. She gives me a tremulous smile.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I blink my eyes and pinch myself, barely registering the flash of pain.

She’s still there—still smiling at me, her eyes shiny with tears. “Charles,” she whispers, her voice weak.

“Lexy!” I reach her in three strides and pull her frail frame into my arms, my body shaking as I bury my face in her hair. “You’re awake. I can’t believe you’re awake. I’ve missed you so goddamn much.”

She trembles in my arms, her voice, the sweet sound I haven’t heard in years . “I don’t know what’s happening,” she rasps.

I smooth my hand down her back. “Everything will be okay. We’ll take it one day at a time. All that matters is you’re back with us and this is the miracle we’ve been waiting for.”

Pulling back, I stare at my beautiful sister—whereas for the past seven, almost eight years, her skin has been too sallow. Now, there’s a faint rosy glow in it. Her blue eyes sparkle with life.

Then I hear a gasp and whispered words in the background.

Looking back, I see Taylor standing there, her hand pressed against the wall of the en suite bathroom as if she needs it to hold her upright, her face entirely leached of color.

Lexy shifts, no doubt wondering what has drawn my attention away from her.

She cocks her head to the side, bewilderment in her voice. “Lil’ Tay, is that you? What are you doing here with my brother?”