18. Jack
JACK
Parker says it like she’s announcing rain on the forecast. Like it’s not the single most electric thing I’ve ever heard.
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out.
Gavin is stone-still. Harrison shifts beside me, like he’s physically grounding himself. But me? I’m floating. For all of two seconds, I feel like I’ve left the floor. Heart hammering, brain stuttering, muscles frozen.
Because it might be mine. No—because I want it to be. “Okay,” I say finally, because someone has to speak. “Okay. We can…we’ll figure it out.”
Parker doesn’t move. She’s not crying. Not smiling. Just waiting, like the weight of what she’s holding might pull her into the floor. She didn’t say it to manipulate us. She said it because she couldn’t carry it alone anymore.
“We don’t have to decide anything tonight,” Harrison says, voice low and even.
“Right,” Gavin adds, eyes flicking toward the curtained lounge entrance. “Let’s keep this contained.”
Parker nods. “I’m not making any decisions yet. I’m still processing. I don’t even know which of you is the father…how could I?”
I step toward her, hands open. “You’re not alone.”
She finally looks at me. God, her eyes. Brighter now, but rimmed with something tight—fear, maybe. Uncertainty. But she lets me touch her hand, lets me squeeze once before I let go.
The moment holds. Then cracks. Because something thuds behind the coatroom curtain. All of us turn at once.
The room was empty when we came in. The lounge isn’t public. No staff. No guests. Just us. Gavin moves first. He crosses the carpet in three long strides and pulls the curtain back.
Vanessa.
Of course it’s Vanessa.
She steps out with her hand raised casually, like she’s just adjusting her dress. But she’s too smooth. Too composed. The kind of smug calm that means one thing. She got something. “Sorry,” she says, smiling directly at Gavin. “Didn’t realize this room was booked.”
No one says a word. Not until Gavin lifts his chin and says, “What did you hear?”
Vanessa blinks innocently. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
“I would never.” Her voice is honey-glazed venom. Polite for sport. She tucks her phone into her clutch with a move just exaggerated enough to be noticed.
Parker goes rigid beside me.
Vanessa turns her full attention to her now. “Congratulations, by the way. I’m sure your bastard child will be such a delight for Vivian to disinherit.”
The air in the room changes. Electric. Sharp.
Gavin steps forward. “Give me your phone.”
She laughs. “Oh, darling. No.”
“This isn’t a game, Vanessa.”
“It never is with you, is it?” Her voice lifts slightly, playful and cruel. “But lucky for me, your mother loves a scandal—especially when she’s already the victim.”
“Give me the phone,” he growls.
She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she turns on her heel like she’s heading for the door.
That’s when Parker moves. In a blink, she’s there—standing between Vanessa and the exit, hand braced against the gold-plated handle. “If you want to leave this room,” Parker says, voice like steel wrapped in silk, “you’re giving up the phone.”
Vanessa raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
Parker smiles. “Try me.”
I step forward, but slowly—hands up, trying not to escalate this. Because if Parker hits her, this becomes something we can’t unspin.
“Parker,” I say. “Let’s not do this here.”
“She recorded me, Jack.”
“I know.”
She grits her teeth, eyes still on Vanessa. “She’s going to sell it.”
“I know.”
“She insulted our baby.”
That one lands deep. I see it in Gavin’s face. In Harrison’s jaw.
Still, I speak gently. “We can’t keep her here against her will. If we try, she’ll use that against us. Even without the recording.”
Parker doesn’t answer.
Vanessa shifts her weight. “You really want to make this harder for yourself?”
Parker leans in, voice deadly soft. “I’ve got about fifteen years of rage stored up, sweetheart. Don’t test me.”
For a moment, I think it’s going to happen. Her hand twitches. Vanessa smiles, too pleased with herself. But Parker takes a breath. Steps back.
Good. It’s over.
Then Vanessa opens her mouth and proves how little she understands other women.
Her eyes narrow as she looks at Parker, head tilted just enough to signal something vicious is coming.
“You know what the funniest thing is?” she says, syrupy and smug.
“You thought one of them might love you for real. That’s almost cute. ”
Parker doesn’t blink. She doesn’t say a word. She just steps aside, like she’s letting Vanessa pass.
And Vanessa—smirking, oblivious, triumphant—turns for the door. She doesn’t see Parker’s foot sweep out behind her.
But everyone else does. It’s fast. Sharp. Effortless.
Vanessa goes down hard. Teeth-first on polished marble. The sound is like a mic drop from hell.
A gasp rises from the hallway just beyond the lounge doors—guests catching a glimpse of the scene. Two staff members stand frozen mid-step, someone’s champagne glass sloshing from the sudden stop.
Vanessa groans. Rolls over. Blood is already starting to trickle from her mouth.
Parker steps forward slowly. Kneels beside her. Voice loud enough for everyone nearby to hear her ask, “Oh no. Are you okay?”
Vanessa groans again. Her lip’s already swelling. One tooth—front and center—is cracked. Its match is three feet away from her, with a tiny bloody trail behind it.
“I tried to warn you,” Parker coos, brushing Vanessa’s hair gently off her face. “The uneven floor in here is brutal. You poor thing.”
Behind her, Gavin’s stunned. Harrison has both hands on his hips like he’s trying not to burst out laughing. I’m somewhere between horror and awe.
Parker stands up and brushes her dress smooth. “I can’t believe she tripped,” she says, turning back to us.
I clear my throat. “Me either.”
Harrison nods. “I can. She’s always had terrible balance when she drinks.”
Gavin doesn’t speak. He just walks over and crouches beside Vanessa. Picks up her clutch. Removes her phone. And slides it into his own jacket pocket.
Then he lends her a hand up, while Parker collects Vanessa’s tooth in a cup of milk from catering.
One of the staff comes rushing in with a towel, eyes wide.
Another appears behind him with a radio clipped to her hip and the tight-lipped calm of someone used to handling celebrities and disasters.
Gavin gives her a look, and she nods, already moving into cleanup mode.
Vanessa is humiliated, and can’t even speak to save her ass. Her lips are too swollen and her teeth are too fucked up.
Parker doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t gloat.
She walks alongside Vanessa out the front, tooth cup in hand.
Vanessa is still dabbing her mouth with a monogrammed towel and trying to speak through the swelling, but no one’s really listening anymore.
An ambulance takes Vanessa from the party, and her cohorts follow in their cars. No more Icon PR at the party.
When she returns to the lounge, Parker stands by the window, arms crossed, staring out at the glittering crowd below. She walks over to the bar in the corner of the lounge, pours herself a ginger ale, and downs it like a shot. Then she turns to face us. “What?”
I blink.
She shrugs. “I’m not even sorry.”
And that might be the hottest thing of all.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She doesn’t look at me right away. “I was until I realized I broke her front tooth.”
I blink. “Are you…regretting it?”
She finally turns her head. “Just shocked at how good it felt.”
I chuckle under my breath. There’s a fine line between disaster and legend, and somehow, Parker just walked it in heels. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Technically—”
“If you have to start a sentence with technically , then you know it’s wrong.”
She sighs. “I just didn’t think tonight would go from pregnancy reveal to public takedown in under ten minutes.”
“Honestly? It’s kind of on-brand.”
She laughs, surprised. “You think this is my brand?”
“Chaos and grace? With a side of ‘don’t test me’ attitude? Yeah. Feels about right.”
Behind us, Gavin’s on the phone with someone—I assume legal. Harrison’s speaking with the woman managing the lounge security detail. Everyone’s spinning. Working. Already solving the next problem before it starts.
But Parker? She’s calm now. Settled. Like putting Vanessa in her place realigned her center of gravity.
I step in front of her, blocking the view outside. “Seriously. You good?”
She nods. “Better now.”
And I believe her. God help me, I do. Because Parker isn’t just surviving anymore. She’s owning the room and the men in it.
The music downstairs picks back up like nothing happened. Someone—probably Gavin—gave the go-ahead to resume the schedule. Champagne’s flowing again. The acrobatics resume. No one’s talking about Parker. No one’s whispering about Vanessa. At least, not where I can hear them.
That’s the thing about public spectacle. People only remember the version they’re told to remember. We’re good at that. We’ve built a business on it.
But Parker? She didn’t do any of this for spin. She didn’t trip Vanessa for applause or PR dominance. She did it because she’s done letting people like Vanessa take things from her.
And I’ve never wanted her more.
She walks back toward the couches and sinks into one with a quiet sigh. Her heels are finally getting to her. She sets her drink on the table and leans back, tilting her head toward the ceiling like she needs a minute of absolute nothing.
I give her one. Then I sit beside her, close but not crowding. “You do realize,” I murmur, “that was possibly the most terrifying and impressive thing I’ve ever seen.”
She cracks an eye open. “Terrifying?”
“In the best way.”
She smiles. “I kept thinking you were going to stop me.”
“I was. At first.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I got distracted watching you become a legend.”
She snorts softly, then quiets. Her hand rests on her stomach for a moment. Barely a touch. Just fingertips over silk. I stare at it. Then up at her.
“Is it bad,” I ask, voice low, “that I want it to be mine?”
Her eyes widen. “No,” she whispers. “It’s not bad.”
“I don’t even know if you want to keep it.”
“I don’t either.”
“But if you do…I’ll be there. Whether it’s mine or not. And if you don’t, I’ll still be there.”
Her throat works. She looks down. And when she looks back up, her eyes are glassy, but she’s smiling. “Okay.”
I lean in, brushing my hand down her arm, before I kiss her. “If you keep it, I look forward to telling them about the night their mother took down a dragon.”
She giggles, and I kiss her right then, memorizing the taste of her unfettered joy.