Chapter 24
Tristan
The coffee burns my tongue as I take too big a sip, focused on the proposal in front of me rather than the temperature of my drink. Numbers blur together on the page – projections for the new development in Brooklyn that should hold my attention but don't.
My mind keeps circling back to Alexander's text from last night, the curt demand for a meeting. He didn't respond when I asked if it was about Camille. He didn't need to.
My phone vibrates against the marble countertop, the screen lighting up with my sister's name.
I swipe to open the message: Are you and Julian dating the same woman? People are talking.
Shit.
I set the phone down, rubbing my temples. This is exactly what I was worried about when Julian and I first discussed our arrangement with Camille. The whispers, the sideways glances, the inevitable questions from people who have no business asking.
"Fuck 'em. Who cares?" Julian had said, sprawled across my couch, beer in hand, casual as always. Easy for him to say with his devil-may-care attitude. He's spent his whole life not giving a damn what people think. I don't have that luxury. In my business, reputation matters.
I pick up my phone again, typing out the coward's response: What are you talking about?
The three dots appear immediately.
Don't play dumb, Tristan. It's all over the place after that gala last night. You and Julian with the same blonde. I heard she doesn’t even look old enough to drink.
I wince at the judgment in her words. Kate's always been protective of me, ever since our parents died. Sometimes I appreciate it. Right now, it grates.
She's 24.
She doesn’t respond. There's no need to.
Kate's already made up her mind about Camille without ever meeting her.
She won't understand what's happening between the three of us because I barely understand it myself.
All I know is that when I'm with Camille, something shifts inside me – a loosening of the tight control I've maintained for years.
My phone buzzes again. You canceled on Raquel for this? She's perfect for you. Stable. Accomplished. Age-appropriate.
I roll my eyes. Raquel, Kate's friend from law school. Attractive, yes. Successful, certainly. But I’m not interested. I canceled our dinner date. There was no point in meeting.
Not now, Kate. I've got a meeting.
I down the rest of my coffee, now lukewarm, and gather my things. My driver will be downstairs in five minutes to take me to Alexander's office. Julian texted an hour ago saying he'd meet me there.
In the elevator down to the lobby, I lean against the wall and close my eyes.
What am I going to say to Alexander? The truth seems both impossible and inevitable.
Yes, Julian and I are both seeing Camille.
Yes, we're both sleeping with her. Yes, it's serious – at least for me.
I can't speak for Julian's feelings, though the way he looks at her suggests I'm not alone in falling deeper than expected.
And then there's the pregnancy. Camille carrying Alexander's child adds a complication none of us anticipated. She tried to tell him, tried to reach out multiple times. His silence was answer enough, as far as she was concerned.
But does Alexander know he's going to be a father? And if he doesn't, is it our place to tell him?
My driver opens the car door for me as I exit the building. The morning air is warm, carrying the first hints of summer. I slide into the backseat, giving a nod in place of a greeting.
"Mr. Kingsley's office," I say, though he already knows the destination.
As we pull into traffic, I stare out the window at the city waking up. Commuters hurry along sidewalks, clutching coffee cups. Street vendors set up their carts. A construction crew unloads equipment from a truck. Normal life continuing while mine feels like it's balanced on a knife's edge.
I didn't expect to feel this way about Camille. When I first met her, I saw a beautiful young woman with a quiet strength beneath her softness. Interesting, yes. Attractive, certainly. But not someone who would slip past my carefully constructed defenses.
Then I got to know her. The determination that drives her to build her business from scratch.
The vulnerability she tries so hard to hide.
The surprising boldness that emerges when she's comfortable.
And somewhere along the way, I started looking forward to seeing her with an intensity that should have been a warning.
When Julian suggested sharing her, I should have said no. Should have recognized the complication for what it was. Instead, I found myself agreeing, driven by a desire I couldn't ignore and the knowledge that if I didn't agree, I might not get to have her at all.
Now here we are, the three of us entangled in something that defies easy definition. And Alexander wants answers.
My phone vibrates with a text from Julian: Almost there. You?
Ten minutes out.
Think he knows about the baby?
That's the million-dollar question, isn't it? No idea. But I think we should tell him.
Julian's response comes quickly: That's not our news to share.
He's right, technically. It's Camille's pregnancy, Camille's choice who to tell and when. But Alexander is the father. Doesn't he have a right to know?
The car slows as we approach his building, a gleaming tower that seems to pierce the sky. My driver pulls to the curb, and I take a deep breath before stepping out.
Julian's waiting in the lobby, his usual casual self in jeans and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up. Even under-dressed, he somehow looks like he belongs in this polished space.
"Ready for this?" he asks as I approach, a hint of concern breaking through his easy smile.
"Not really," I admit. "But it needs to be done."
Julian nods, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Whatever happens, we're in this together. For her."
For her. The simple phrase carries so much weight. Whatever started this – desire, curiosity, loneliness – it's evolved into something else. Something stronger than I expected. Something worth fighting for.
As we step into the elevator that will take us to Alex's office, I steel myself for the conversation ahead. The truth, all of it, needs to come out. For Camille's sake. For the baby's sake. Even for Alex's sake, though right now I'm finding it hard to care about his feelings.
The elevator rises smoothly, floor numbers ticking upward. Julian rocks back on his heels beside me, outwardly relaxed though I know him well enough to see the tension in his jaw.
Alex is standing at the window when we enter his office, his back to us, shoulders rigid under his tailored jacket. He doesn't turn immediately, and the silence stretches just long enough to be deliberate. A power play. I've seen him do this with business rivals, never with us.
When he finally faces us, his expression is carved from stone, only the slight twitch in his jaw betraying any emotion. His eyes lock with mine first, then shift to Julian. No greeting, no pretense.
"Are you both seeing her?" The question cuts through the air like a blade, precise and sharp.
Julian drops into one of the leather chairs facing Alexander's desk, sprawling in that deliberately casual way of his. "Good morning to you too, Alex."
Alexander's eyes narrow. "Answer the question."
I remain standing, hands in my pockets, watching the tension build between my two oldest friends. "You're going to need to be more specific," I say, though we all know exactly who he's talking about.
"Camille." He says her name like it costs him something. "Are you both seeing her? Sleeping with her? Is that what's happening here?"
Julian tilts his head, studying Alex. "Why do you care? You walked away from her, mate."
Alex's fist comes down on his desk, the sudden violence startling in this sterile, controlled environment. "That's not an answer."
"Yes." The word leaves my mouth before I can reconsider. Both men turn to look at me, Julian with slight surprise, Alex with something darker. "Yes, we're both seeing her. We're both sleeping with her. We have an… arrangement."
Alex's face goes blank in that dangerous way it does when he's truly angry. "Since when? How long has this been going on?"
"A few weeks," Julian says, his casual tone at odds with the charged atmosphere. "Again, why do you care? You made it pretty clear you were done with her."
"And it never occurred to either of you that this might be something to discuss with me?"
I feel my own anger rising to match his. "We didn't realize we needed your permission. You left her. You ignored her messages."
Alexander's eye twitches. "What’s that got to do with anything?"
Julian leans forward now, his easy demeanor slipping just slightly. "You don't want her, but no one else can have her either? Is that it? Well, fuck that."
The silence that follows is palpable. Alexander's breathing has quickened, his control visibly fraying at the edges. I've rarely seen him like this—emotion overwhelming his carefully constructed facade.
"You're sharing her," he says finally, the words coming out like he can barely stand to form them. "My two closest friends are passing around a woman I—" He stops abruptly.
"A woman you what?" I challenge, stepping closer to his desk. "A woman you used and discarded? A woman who tried to reach out to you multiple times and got nothing but silence in return?"
Julian stands, moving to stand beside me, a united front. "You don't get to be angry about this, Alex. You gave up that right when you walked away."
"I didn't—" Alexander cuts himself off again, running a hand through his usually immaculate hair. "It's complicated."
"Well, it's about to get more complicated," Julian says, glancing at me with a look that says he's made a decision.
"Julian," I say, surprised at what he’s about to reveal.
He ignores me. "Camille is pregnant, Alex. And it's yours."
The color drains from Alex's face so completely I wonder if he might actually faint. He sinks into his chair, eyes wide, the anger replaced by something that looks like genuine shock. "What did you just say?"
"Camille is pregnant with your child," I confirm, watching him carefully. "She tried to tell you. Those texts you ignored? That's what they were about."
Alex stares at us, then down at his hands, then back up. The mask has slipped entirely now, revealing raw confusion, disbelief, perhaps even fear. "How long has she known?"
"A couple months," Julian says. "I went to the first doctor's appointments with her. Everything looked good."
A flash of something – hurt? betrayal? – crosses Alexander's face. "You've been to appointments? For my child?"
"Someone had to be there for her," I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice. "You weren't exactly available."
Alex pushes back from his desk abruptly, standing to pace the length of his office. His movements are jerky, uncharacteristic for a man who prides himself on control. "I need to see her," he says finally. "I need to talk to her."
"That's not up to us," Julian replies. "It's her decision whether she wants to see you."
Alex stops pacing, fixing us with a hard stare. "Is this some kind of sick revenge?"
The accusation is so absurd I can't help the bitter laugh that escapes me. "You think she planned this? Got pregnant on purpose, then orchestrated a relationship with both Julian and me just to get back at you?"
"She was already pregnant when we started seeing her," Julian adds. "And she didn't pursue us, mate. We pursued her. Because unlike you, we recognized what was right in front of us."
Alex's expression darkens again. "And what exactly is that?"
"Someone worth fighting for," I say quietly.
The simple statement lands with unexpected weight. Alex looks away, his profile sharp against the window's light. For a moment, I catch a glimpse of something beneath the anger and shock – regret, perhaps. But it's gone as quickly as it appears.
"I need time to process this," he says finally, his voice controlled once more. "But make no mistake—this changes things."
Julian raises an eyebrow. "How so?"
"That's my child. Whether Camille wants me involved or not, whether you two are in the picture or not, that's my child she's carrying."
I step forward, close enough now that I can see the slight tremor in his hands. "Be very careful about what you do next, Alex. Camille has been through enough already."
"Is that a threat, Tristan?" His eyes meet mine, challenge clear in them.
"It's a warning. From a friend. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."
Julian moves to the door, clearly deciding the conversation has run its course. "Call her," he says to Alex. "But I'd suggest giving her some space to decide what she wants. She's had months to get used to the idea of doing this without you."
Alex doesn't respond, just turns back to the window, dismissing us without words. As we leave his office, I catch one last glimpse of his reflection in the glass—his eyes closed, one hand pressed against his forehead, the perfect image of a man whose world has just been upended.
In the elevator down, Julian and I stand in silence for several floors before he speaks.
"Think we should warn Camille?"
I nod, already reaching for my phone. "He's not going to wait. You know that, right?"
"Yeah." Julian sighs, leaning against the elevator wall. "Question is, what's he going to do?"
I don't have an answer for that. Alex Kingsley is not a man who takes surprises well, not a man who accepts losing anything he considers his. And despite everything – despite walking away, despite ignoring her—it's clear he still thinks of Camille as his.
Which means the real battle is just beginning.