Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Lincoln
Iwake up before the sun fully crests the windows, and for half a second, I don’t remember where I am.
Then I feel her.
Warm. Curled into my side. Breathing slow and even, her lashes resting just above her pink cheeks.
If she’s next to me, though, that must mean Lawson’s awake and somewhere else in the house. We don’t have chores to do this morning since it’s the weekend and our hired ranch hands are handling things. So my best guess is he’s somewhere stewing.
I shift carefully, easing up onto an elbow. Jasper’s sprawled on his stomach on the other side of Abigail, hand resting flat over her belly, already guarding the little life inside of it.
I snort at the sight of Beau still curled up at her feet, one arm hooked loosely around her ankle, wanting to touch her in any way he can—even in his sleep.
I don’t know what prompts it. Maybe it’s the way Jasper’s thumb flexes against her stomach. Maybe it’s the way Abigail instinctively sinks deeper into the mattress at the reminder that we’re around her. Or maybe it’s the realization that this is the first morning of our new life.
Whatever it is, I reach for my phone on the nightstand. Without turning on the flash, I lift the camera overhead and take a picture of a moment I’m not willing to lose.
I slide carefully out of bed, tucking the blanket back around them. My hand lingers for a moment before I reach up and stroke a hand down the side of her head. She nuzzles against the pillow, rolls over, and buries her face into Jasper’s chest.
I smile at the sight.
God, we really are going to need a bigger bed.
That thought hits me next.
This hardly fits the five of us as it is. Add pregnancy pillows? A growing belly? A bassinet parked next to it? Hell, we might as well knock out a wall.
Christ.
Where are we putting a nursery?
Do we convert my office downstairs? No. Who puts their kid on the main level? What if there’s an intruder?
Maybe two of us could share a room? Probably Lawson and I. Even though none of us has shared a room since we lived with my parents.
Fuck my life. My parents.
How are we going to tell them? In person or over dinner? Or do we just let Beau accidentally blurt it out?
What if they’re disappointed?
What if they—
No.
They won’t be. Deep down, I know it.
But still…
What if?
By the time I step into the hallway, my brain is already making a list.
Make a plan to build a nursery.
Research the best OB in the area.
Security upgrade.
Prenatal vitamins.
Figure out how to tell our parents.
Find a bigger fucking bed.
I head downstairs, my head still spinning, and find Lawson doing exactly what I expected him to be doing.
Stewing.
He’s sitting at the kitchen island. Elbows on the counter. Coffee in hand. Eyes focused on nothing.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask, grabbing a mug.
He snorts. “Once I woke up, my mind wouldn’t stop—”
“Spiraling,” I finish for him.
“To put it mildly.”
I pour my coffee and sit beside him. We don’t speak for a second. All of us just enjoying this rare moment of quiet in the house.
“We’re going to be dads,” I say finally.
He exhales a laugh through his nose. “I know.”
“Not just dads,” I add. “But dads with Beau.”
“Mmhm.” He takes a long sip of coffee.
“And Jasper.”
He chuckles. “Jesus Christ.”
“This is insane.”
“It is.”
“But…” I trail off.
Lawson glances at me. “But it feels right,” he says.
And that’s it. That’s the part that continues to floor me. It doesn’t feel chaotic. It doesn’t feel reckless. It doesn’t feel like we’ve ruined anything. It feels like something is just clicking into place.
“Think Mom and Dad are going to lose their shit?” I ask.
Lawson stares at me like I’ve insulted him. “They’ve been wanting a grandchild since before you even married Melissa,” he says flatly.
I grimace.
“And now they’re getting one because of Abigail—who they love, by the way. They’re not going to give a flying fuck whose baby it is biologically. I’ll be shocked if Mom doesn’t cry tears of joy.”
I huff a laugh. He’s probably right.
Footsteps sound on the stairs.
Beau appears first, hair wrecked, eyes half shut. “Morning,” he mumbles. Jasper follows, shirtless, rubbing his face.
“She still asleep?” Lawson asks.
Beau nods, grabbing two mugs. I’m sure she’s exhausted. One of us woke her up every few hours just to check on her, so I’d be surprised if she didn’t sleep well into the morning.
Beau’s about to pour a cup when he pauses. “Shit. Do we need to get her decaf now?”
Lawson’s already typing on his phone. “She can have one cup of regular coffee a day if she wants, but we should get decaf if she wants more than that. I’ll add it to my list.”
Beau squints at him. “You have a list going already?”
“I’ve been up a while. Sue me,” Law mutters.
The three of us laugh softly before Jasper asks, “Well… should we call Joe?”
Lawson shrugs. “Up to you.”
I grin. “I’m always down to call your—”
“Stop,” Jasper cuts in immediately. “Don’t even start. You know I hate it when you pretend to flirt with my sister.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” I wiggle my brows at him.
“Me,” he deadpans. “I know you do it just to fuck with me. Plus, the mother of our child is upstairs, and you’re obsessed with her, so shut the hell up.”
I laugh, holding my hands up in surrender.
Jas pulls his phone from his sweats and calls his sister. Joe answers on the second ring.
The second the words are out of Jasper’s mouth, Joe screams. Not a polite gasp or a stunned silence. She literally screams. A full, unfiltered shriek straight through the speaker. Honestly, it’s a miracle Abigail doesn’t wake up from that alone.
“You’re LYING?!”
“I’m not,” Jasper shoots back, grinning like a man who just won a world title. “Swear on everything. You’re going to be an auntie.”
There’s a thud on Joe’s end like she just hit someone.
“Ouch,” Enzo whines in the background. “Why am I getting assaulted?”
“I-I’m just so excited I don’t know what else to do with it!”
“And you’re the easiest target,” Dante answers dryly.
“She’s okay? Abbie’s okay? You swear to me she’s okay?” Joe shoots off all three questions without taking a breath.
“She’s fine,” Lawson says calmly. “Tired. In shock. But fucking glowing.”
Joe’s breath shakes through the phone. “She’s glowing, you guys,” she whines to the men who are sitting in her apartment. She’s silent for a minute before she says. “Oh my god. You guys are such idiots. Actual idiots.”
Well, that quickly took a turn.
“We know,” Beau says. “Can’t say I’m sorry though.”
Luca cuts in, voice amused and smooth. “Statistically speaking, the chances are high.”
“Not helpful,” I mutter.
Joe starts crying again.
I think I’m getting whiplash.
“I love you guys,” she says fiercely. “Every single one of you. And if any of you stress her out, I will personally fly there and bury you in a shallow grave.”
“Always so violent,” Jas scoffs.
“I like it,” Enzo says. “Gets me h—”
“No.” Jasper cuts him off. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
We all laugh before Enzo adds, “So which one of you is explaining this to a kindergarten teacher in five years?”
“Rock-paper-scissors,” Beau replies immediately.
The whole conversation is starting to turn ridiculous.
It feels normal.
Which is maybe why the thought slips in so clean. It hits me again mid-laugh. Not from fear. But from instinct.
As I watch the way Jasper paces the kitchen while Joe continues asking a million questions none of us have the answers to yet, or the way Beau’s hand keeps drifting toward his chest like he’s steadying himself, or the way my brother is scrolling through pediatricians on his phone while still engaging in conversation, one thought rips through my subconscious.
While we’re in here trying to build a future, Keller is still out there.
Still smiling for the cameras.
Still thinking he’s untouchable.
“Hey, Seb?” I say when the noise dips for a moment.
There’s a shuffle on the other end. “Yeah?”
“I need you to look into something for me.”
Silence.
“What is it?” he asks carefully.
“Keller’s financials. I know you’ve been looking into him, but there’s got to be something deeper.
Something we’re missing. I’m talking shell companies.
Offshore accounts. Any federal investigations that might already be circling.
Political donations. Regulatory violations.
Anything that smells like fraud or racketeering.
” The room goes still. “And if there’s anyone in his circle who looks like they might flip if given the chance. ”
Sebastian doesn’t hesitate. “Give me until this afternoon.”
When we hang up, Beau frowns. “What was that?”
I rest my forearms on the counter. “He’s too popular for us to touch at the level we want to,” I say. “We know this. So… we don’t touch him at all.”
Lawson’s eyes sharpen.
“We let someone else do it.”
Jasper’s jaw tightens. “You thinking the feds?”
“He’s dirty—obviously—but I doubt we’re the first people he’s done this to. There’s got to be a pattern.”
Slow understanding spreads across their faces.
Beau exhales slowly. “You thinkin’ a public execution?”
“Of sorts,” I answer.
Lawson’s mouth curves slightly. “You’re a fucking genius, Brother.”
“I try.”
The call comes at 2:17 p.m.
Abigail’s napping upstairs.
Lawson’s in the office.
Jasper’s outside playing with Lucy.
And Beau’s making us all a quick lunch.
I answer immediately. “Tell me you found something.”
He doesn’t make me wait. “I found it.”
My pulse kicks up a notch. “Talk to me.”
“It’s money. Keller’s been funneling funds through a nonprofit redevelopment initiative tied to low-income housing grants.”
I frown. “And?”
“And the housing doesn’t exist.”
My jaw tightens. “He’s been securing federal and state funds for projects that were approved on paper, then rerouting the majority of them into private holdings.
Offshore accounts. Land acquisitions through holding companies.
Campaign contributions disguised as ‘consulting fees.’” I don’t speak, and Sebastian continues.
“There are forged environmental impact reports. Inflated contractor invoices. He’s been buying land ahead of zoning changes he quietly influences, then selling it back to the city at triple the price. ”
Corruption.
Not just greed.
Systematic fucking corruption.
“You found a paper trail?” I ask.
“Oh yeah. It’s buried behind a nonprofit redevelopment initiative.
Those filings don’t show up in the same financial searches as corporate accounts.
Different oversight boards. Different disclosure rules.
Once I knew to look there, though? The pattern lit up like a Christmas tree.
I don’t think I would have found it if you hadn’t led me there,” Sebastian says.
“Looks like he’s been doing this for as long as he’s been doing business.
Crossing state lines. Misuse of federal grants.
Wire transfers. Fraud. Conspiracy. If someone hands this to the right task force, it’s not a fine and a slap on the wrist. It’s indictment territory, Lincoln. ”
My pulse steadies now. “Has anyone looked at him seriously before?”
“Looks like there were whispers, but nothing stuck. He donates. He smiles. He shakes hands with all the right people. But this?” Seb huffs a breath. “This is big.”
I look toward the staircase. Toward the woman carrying our child.
“He threatened the wrong family,” I murmur.
Sebastian’s voice lowers. “You want me to package it?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“All of it. I’ll let you know when to send them. You know who to send them to?”
I can practically hear Sebastian’s smile through the phone. “I’ll make sure it hits the right desk.”
The two of us talk for another minute or two, and when I hang up, I just stand there for a moment.
Miles Keller built Hearthland Development and his empire on stolen money and public trust.
We won’t touch him.
But we will let the people he’s been robbing see him get what he deserves.
No blood.
No alleyways.
No retaliation headlines.
Just a man in a suit being walked out in cuffs while cameras flash.
I head right for Lawson in our office.
He looks up the moment I step inside. “Well?”
I lean against the doorframe. “Federal grant fraud. Shell nonprofits. Land manipulation. Threats. Wire transfers.”
Lawson’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes go sharp. “Enough?”
“More than enough.”
He nods once. “Good.”
And for the first time since Keller started circling us, I don’t feel like we’re bracing for impact. I finally feel like we’re the ones with our foot on his neck.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
And that just may be the best part.