Chapter 21
Nolan
None of us left Axel’s house.
We each claimed a different room after she drove away. Nobody spoke. The silence stretched through the night, heavy with the same unspoken fear—that we’ve lost her.
I’m awake before dawn, staring at the ceiling in Axel’s guest room. Footsteps move through the hallway around six.
I don’t need to see him to know it’s Liam.
The smell of coffee reaches me twenty minutes later, followed by the sound of a pan heating on the stove.
When I walk into the kitchen, Liam’s already scrambling eggs. Axel sits at the kitchen island, hair disheveled, yesterday’s shirt wrinkled. Neither acknowledges me.
I pour coffee and slide onto the stool beside Axel.
Liam plates eggs and sets them in front of us.
We eat in silence.
Liam finishes first and sets his fork down. “It doesn’t matter.”
Axel’s head snaps up. “What doesn’t?”
“The article. The damage.” Liam’s words come fast. “We have enough money to take care of her for the rest of her life. She doesn’t need the job. We can go somewhere private. Buy a house where nobody will follow us. Live quietly.”
“That’s not what she wants,” I say.
He slams his fist down. “It’s a life she could learn to appreciate!”
“No.” I set down my coffee. “That life would destroy her. She built Archer Media to make the world a better place. Finding a place to hide is exactly the opposite of what she wants and who she is.”
Nobody speaks.
“Fuck. You’re right.” Liam presses his palms against the counter. “She needs to fight. That’s who she is.”
Axel straightens. “Then we help her fight.”
“The board and our investors are going to want to hear from us.” Liam starts.
“Fuck the board. Fuck they investors. They can wait.” Axel rolls his eyes. “Look, I don’t know about you assholes, but keeping the peace? Never been my thing. I love her. And I’m not sitting around waiting for her to decide shit. I want her. She wants us. So we go get her.”
The words hang there.
Love.
“I love her, too,” I say.
Liam exhales. “So do I.”
“We’ll lose some investors. Maybe a lot.” Liam’s tone sharpens, turns strategic. “But we’ve weathered worse.”
“We’ll make it right with the ones who matter,” I add. “But she matters more.”
Axel stands. “Then what are we still doing here?”
We clean up in silence—dishes in the sink, coffee mugs rinsed—then pile into Liam’s SUV.
The drive takes forty minutes. Nobody speaks. Liam’s hands stay steady on the wheel, and Axel stares out the passenger window. I watch the landscape blur past and try not to think about what happens if she won’t answer the door.
Traffic slows as we hit the city. Morning commuters clog the streets. Liam navigates through it with the same calm he applies to everything, but I see his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel when we’re three blocks from her apartment.
He parks across the street.
The elevator ride up to her apartment feels longer than it should. Axel shifts his weight. Liam’s mouth goes tight. I count the floors and try to prepare for the possibility that she’ll refuse to see us.
Her apartment is at the end of the hall.
We stop in front of her door.
Axel reaches for the handle, then pulls away. Looks at Liam.
Liam knocks.
Three sharp raps echo through the hallway.
I don’t like how long this is taking.
My pulse hammers. What if she’s not here? What if she’s already gone—packed her things, left the city, decided we’re not worth the fight?
Footsteps approach from the other side.
The lock clicks.
The door opens.
Addison stands there in sweatpants and one of my T-shirts, her hair pulled away from her face. Red rims her lids like she’s been crying or hasn’t slept or both.
She looks at all three of us standing in her hallway.
“Hi,” she says quietly.