Epilogue
LUKE
The house smelled faintly of paint when I pushed the front door open. It wasn’t unpleasant. Just a thin, clean scent drifting through the hallway that meant Mila had spent the afternoon working again.
Voices carried from the kitchen.
Jax arguing about something. Avery laughing at him. The deep rumble of Theo’s voice somewhere behind them while Chase tried unsuccessfully to referee whatever debate had started over dinner.
Tori’s quiet laugh drifted down the hall a second later.
I dropped my hockey bag near the stairs by everyone else’s and followed the light spilling from the back room.
Mila stood near the window with her sleeves pushed to her elbows, one foot tucked beneath her as she leaned toward the canvas.
Late afternoon sunlight poured through the tall windows I’d chosen for that exact reason, catching in the loose strands of her hair while her brush moved slowly across the surface.
Music played softly somewhere behind her. Michigan had already fallen into a rhythm that still felt slightly unreal to me.
Morning team meetings. Classes. High-intensity drills, film review with the guys, weight training, then homework. Late nights in a house that somehow held six of us without ever feeling crowded.
Avery and Jax had already claimed the kitchen as their unofficial territory. Theo and Tori studied at the dining table most nights. Chase drifted between all of us, usually with music playing somewhere and a new girl appearing just often enough that none of us bothered learning her name.
And Mila painted.
The normal life we’d fought for. The kind I’d never expected to have.
She stepped back from the canvas, tilting her head as she studied the colors, and that was when she noticed me.
A smile spread across her face. “There you are.”
I crossed the room and wound my hands around her waist, pulling her back against me. A small smear of blue paint marked her wrist.
“You’ve been working all day.”
She leaned into my chest comfortably. “You’ve been skating all day.”
“Fair.”
Her fingers curled around mine where they rested against her stomach. “Did practice go well?”
“Coach didn’t make us do blue line sprints today,” I answered.
“High praise.”
I pressed a quick kiss to the side of her neck.
The simple ease of moments like this still caught me off guard sometimes. A year ago, our lives had revolved around rumors, secrets, and a town that seemed determined to drag us into every fight happening behind closed doors.
Now the loudest sound in the house most nights came from the team arguing about whose turn it was to cook.
“You’re staring,” Mila murmured.
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s always dangerous.”
My chin rested briefly on her shoulder as I looked over the painting again. A wide stretch of shoreline filled the canvas, the ocean rolling beneath a sky streaked with soft light.
Blackwood’s coast. But it felt different in her hands. Calmer. Wider. Less suffocating.
I studied the canvas quietly. “That’s incredible.”
She huffed quietly. “You say that every time.”
“Because it’s true.”
Her elbow nudged lightly into my ribs. “Flattery will not get you out of helping with dinner.”
“I was going to help.”
She turned in my arms then, studying my face more carefully. “You’re distracted.”
“I got a message earlier.”
“From who?”
“Drew.”
Her expression shifted slightly. “Everything okay?”
“He’s in town for meetings. Asked if I wanted to grab a drink.”
She watched me before speaking. “You want to go?”
“I should.”
Her hand moved up my chest, fingers resting briefly at the collar of my shirt.
“Okay,” she answered quietly.
I kissed her forehead before stepping back. “I won’t be long.”
The bar sat two blocks off campus near the lake. Students filled most of the tables, voices carrying through the open windows while the late evening air drifted inside.
Drew had already claimed a corner booth when I walked in.
He looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him in Blackwood. Same calm posture. Same unreadable expression that never gave much away.
“Michigan suits you,” he observed as I dropped into the seat across from him.
“You came all this way to evaluate my location?”
“Partly.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “How’s the team?”
“Good.”
“Classes?”
“Manageable.”
His attention rested on me. “And Mila?”
“She’s good.”
His head tilted slightly. “That girl always had more backbone than anyone gave her credit for.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
A server dropped two drinks on the table before disappearing again. For a few minutes, the conversation stayed easy. Hockey. Campus. Claire’s latest attempt to reorganize the company’s marketing division.
Eventually, the subject shifted.
“The investigation wrapped faster than expected,” Drew continued.
“Lorne’s still going down for it?”
“Yes.” His tone carried no hesitation. “The financial records Darren collected made the case straightforward.”
“And Dunn?”
“His network took damage.” Drew lifted his glass. “Victor Langley’s connections are under review. Several shell companies have already collapsed.”
The quiet certainty in his voice told me everything I needed to know. The storm that had consumed Blackwood for years was finally burning itself out. “Dad handling it okay?” I asked.
Drew shrugged lightly. “Dad has never enjoyed losing control of a situation.”
“And Mom?”
“She’s mediating.”
That almost made me laugh. “Of course she is.”
Silence stretched between us while the noise of the bar filled the space.
Then Drew spoke again. “Darren never should’ve forced that meeting.”
Pressure built in my chest. I kept my expression neutral. “What meeting?”
Drew took a slow drink before answering. “The one in the parking lot.”
My mind moved through the details automatically. That information had never been released publicly. Not in court. Not in the investigation. Drew was the only one in the room who shouldn’t have known it.
Drew’s gaze held mine calmly across the table. Then he leaned back slightly.
“Sometimes things happen in a room that can’t be undone.” The statement carried no explanation. His fingers turned the glass slowly on the table, the amber liquid catching the dim bar lights. “You remember when everything went sideways for me a few years ago.”
It wasn’t a question. I leaned back slightly. “Hard to forget.”
The stretch of months when Drew had nearly destroyed himself still sat heavy in my memory. The drinking. The disappearing for days at a time. The quiet calls Claire used to make when she didn’t know where he’d gone.
At the time, none of it had made sense.
Drew had always been the controlled one. The brother who carried the expectations the rest of us tried to avoid.
His mouth curved faintly, but there was no humor in it. “I didn’t tell anyone why.”
“Claire knew pieces. She always does. But the rest of it… I kept to myself.” He looked toward the window, where the lake stretched black beneath the night sky. “I found out something that year.” A pause. “About the family.”
I didn’t interrupt.
Drew’s voice stayed steady. “Our father isn’t my father.”
I just looked at him. “What?”
Drew took a slow breath. “Our mother had an affair.” He didn’t soften it. “With Lorne.”
The noise of the bar seemed to fade behind the words. “That’s not—”
“It is.” His gaze returned to mine. “I confirmed it.”
A hundred memories rearranged themselves in my head. Lorne’s attention toward Drew. The way he’d always treated him differently than the rest of us. “You’re saying Lorne—”
“Is my biological father.” Drew’s tone remained calm. “Yes.”
The statement carried none of the shock I felt. “Does Dad know?”
“No.”
“How long have you known?”
“Long enough.” He rolled the glass slowly between his hands. “Lorne told me himself.” His mouth pressed into a line. “It hit harder, the truth of it, when Grant never lifted a finger when things started falling apart for me—just wrote it off as weakness.”
I remembered those months too clearly. Dad had treated Drew’s spiral as an embarrassment instead of a crisis. But that was Dad; he hated weakness, especially in his sons. Claire had been the one pulling him back together.
“And Lorne?” I asked quietly.
Drew’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. “He always knew but wasn’t going to use it until the right moment.”
When Drew inherits the company. A final move Grant would never see coming.
“Lorne made sure I understood what would happen if I ever said anything.”
“What does that mean?”
Drew’s gaze lifted to mine, steady. “It means if I open my mouth… you don’t walk away clean.”
I knew exactly what he meant. And what it’d cost him.
“And he never—”
“Claimed me.” The calm way Drew said it carried more damage than anger would have. “Didn’t need to.” Drew exhaled once. “He got what he wanted anyway.”
Another form of abandonment. I exhaled slowly. “That’s when everything went to shit.”
“Yeah.” The answer came without hesitation.
“When you spend your entire life trying to earn a place in a family with Grant’s impossible expectations,” Drew continued, “and then the man pulling strings behind the scenes says you were never part of it to begin with… it does strange things to your sense of direction.”
I didn’t argue with that.
Drew’s gaze lowered briefly. “You and Claire dragged me out of it.”
That much I already knew. But it was mostly Claire. She was the one who had the most impact.
“If she hadn’t…” He didn’t finish the thought. But the meaning sat heavy between us. “She’s the only reason I’m still standing,” he added quietly. “And the only reason the company might become something worth keeping.”
“You’re rebuilding it.”
“Yes.” For the first time, a hint of real conviction entered his voice. “Cleaning out the rot. Restructuring the leadership. Putting people in place who actually believe in the work.”
“And Dad?”
Drew shrugged slightly. “Grant and I will figure out how to coexist.”
The phrasing was deliberate. Not father and son. Business partners.