17. CHRIS
17
CHRIS
T he Monaco night buzzed with the kind of energy that could either get you arrested or help you close a multimillion-dollar deal. I walked with my brothers down the cobbled streets, the four of us a unified force, like a herd of bulls strutting their way through the crowd.
It wasn’t often that we were all in the same town at once, so when we were, we made a point of getting together. Daniel had been in the area on a flight, and Ben had stopped by to close a deal. Alex was heading out soon, so we just had tonight.
The bar we’d picked tonight was called The Red Anchor, a favorite for anyone looking to drink like it might be their last night on earth. It was tucked into the side of a narrow street, the entrance easy to miss if you didn’t know what you were looking for—just the kind of place we liked.
Alex led the way, as he always did, his stride confident, but the lines around his eyes showed just how much stress he’d had lately. Ben was right behind, somehow managing to make casual jeans and a white shirt look like it came out of GQ magazine. Daniel brought up the rear, his leather jacket giving off the rebellious pilot vibe, like he’d just walked off the set of Top Gun . And then there was me, in my dark gray slacks and black button-down. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
Not tonight.
“Alright, assholes, first round’s on me,” Ben announced, clapping his hands together as we entered the dimly lit room. The place had an earthy charm—old wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, the bar was scarred from a thousand drinks being slammed onto its surface, and the smell of whisky hung thick in the air.
I took a deep breath and relished in the feeling of letting go and not giving a shit. I was fucking good at that, wasn’t I?
“Does that mean you’re finally putting some of that plane money to good use?” I jabbed, sidestepping a table and nudging his shoulder.
Ben rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Keep it up, Chris, and I’ll let Alex pay for all your drinks tonight. Because fuck knows you’re too cheap to pay it yourself.”
I snorted. “Have you seen my yacht? Nothing cheap about that.”
“Please,” Alex chimed in, smirking as we settled into a booth near the back. “If I buy anything more for this kid, I might as well adopt him.” He elbowed me.
“Oh, right, ’cause we haven’t all been adopted already,” Daniel muttered, flashing a grin. “You might as well make it official, Alex. Chris here always was the baby of the bunch.”
“Fuck you guys,” I muttered, though my lips quirked into a smile. “Last I checked, you were the youngest, Dan. Pretty sure that makes you the baby.”
“Yeah, but I’m the cool baby,” Daniel shot back. “You—you’re the one who’s always sulking.”
“Sulking? Or slaying? There’s a difference.” I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face as I waved for a server. “But whatever. Rules: no business talk, got it? Tonight, it’s just us. No yacht deals, no meetings, and definitely no bullshit.” The words came out with more conviction than I felt. Lately, it felt like everything was bullshit—especially when it came to Bella.
We ordered whisky, neat. Something about that warm burn felt like exactly what we needed—nothing frilly, nothing complicated. Just pure alcohol to smooth the edges of reality.
Ben raised his glass as soon as the drinks arrived. “To the Blackwoods,” he declared. “May we always stay rich enough to avoid real problems.”
“And to making more money so Chris can pretend he’s not still hung up on his ex,” Daniel added, his grin practically splitting his face as he clinked his glass against mine.
I shot him a glare. “How the hell do you know about that?”
Daniel glanced at Ben. Right, the dickheads had been talking about me.
But the others laughed, and I begrudgingly raised my glass, too. “You guys are assholes, you know that?”
“Aw, come on, Chris,” Alex said, giving me a knowing look. “We’re just trying to get you to talk about it. You used to be the one who never shut up about your feelings.”
“Yeah, when we were kids,” I muttered, taking a sip. The whisky was smooth, and I closed my eyes as it went down. “Things change.”
“Not all things,” Ben challenged. “You still got it bad for her. Bella, right? I mean, shit, Chris. She’s right under your nose and you’re a blubbering mess about it.”
“I’m not blubbering,” I defended.
“Just a mess, then,” Daniel said with a laugh.
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my expression neutral. I wasn’t about to spill my guts to them, not tonight. Not when everything felt so raw. “We’re working together, that’s it. Nothing more.”
“Bullshit,” Daniel said, leaning back, his arms spreading across the back of the booth. “You think we can’t see it? The way you look like your heart has been ripped out all over again? It’s like watching a dog drool over a bone he can’t have.”
“Fuck off, Dan,” I said, but there wasn’t much heat behind it. They weren’t wrong—not entirely. I did look at her like that, but it wasn’t just because I couldn’t have her. It was because every time I tried, I fucked it up.
“You know,” Alex said, his tone more serious now, “if you want her back, you have to do something about it. You can’t just keep pissing around, pretending like you don’t care.”
I met his gaze, and for a second, I felt like a kid again, looking up to my big brother for advice. Except now, I didn’t want to hear it. “It’s complicated,” I said, my voice hard. “I can’t afford distractions. It’s the yacht show and there’s Eli to keep an eye on because I swear the son of a bitch is planning something.”
Ben let out a low whistle. “Eli, huh? You really think that guy’s got a chance of pulling anything off?”
I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, even though just the thought of Bella with Eli made my stomach turn. I was glad I’d managed to steer the conversation away from Bella, though. Now I just had to get my thoughts under control.
“He’s got money, he’s got charm… who the fuck knows?”
“Yeah, well, you have all that, too,” Daniel said, knocking his glass against mine again. “Except you’re not a dick. Most of the time.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Thanks for that.”
“Listen, bro,” Alex said, leaning in, his expression serious. “If Eli’s a problem, we deal with it. But you have to decide if Bella’s worth it and get your head in the game. Because if she is, then you can’t let that asshole get between you two, and you can’t let him get away with his bullshit just because you’re so caught up in your own mind you can’t deal with it.”
I swallowed. He wasn’t wrong. Alex was never wrong.
Bella was worth it—she’d always been worth it. But the question wasn’t about her. It was about me. About whether I could be the man she deserved.
“I’ll figure it out,” I said, lifting my glass again, more to cut off the conversation than anything else. “But tonight, let’s just drink, alright? No more heavy shit. Jesus, we broke the rules like ten times now.”
Daniel grinned, raising his glass. “To pretending we have our shit together.”
We all clinked our glasses, the sound sharp and clear in the haze of the bar. And for a moment, I could pretend everything was fine. Just four brothers, drinking and laughing, like the rest of the world didn’t matter. Like I wasn’t carrying the weight of everything—of Bella, of Eli, of the company—on my shoulders.
Maybe it was the whisky, maybe it was the company, but for that one fleeting moment, I let myself believe that everything would work out. Even if I had no fucking idea how.