EPILOGUE
NASH
ONE MONTH LATER
The annual River Conservancy Benefit was held on the High Line, stretching along the elevated park with views of the Hudson.
It was technically a gala—silent auction, champagne, the works—but the organizers were smart enough to make it an afternoon event so families could bring their kids to run around the gardens.
It was exactly the kind of event I used to dread—overcrowded and full of people pretending to care about causes they'd forget by morning. But it turned out I minded these events much less when I had the right people by my side.
With Clara's hand in mine and Mia's excited chatter filling the air between us, it wouldn’t have mattered where we were. Because we were together.
"Naff!" Mia tugged on my sleeve, pointing at the sculpture centerpiece—something built out of metal that looked like either water flowing around a clitoris or maybe a swan. Jury was out on that one. "Pretty!"
"That’s some great art, isn’t it, little dragon.
" I crouched down to her level, straightening the bow in her hair.
She and I had an art appreciation thing going on after a recent family trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
So now, whenever she saw a big painting or a sculpture, she had to show me. “Almost as good as the art you draw.”
Mia giggled, throwing her arms around my neck. I’d never get tired of her sweet little giggle or these lovebug hugs. I lifted her up, settling her on my hip as I stood. Clara watched us with that soft smile that made my chest tight—the one that said life was exactly perfect.
"You two are adorable," she said, adjusting the collar of my shirt with one hand while balancing her clutch in the other. She looked fucking edible in a silvery dress that hugged every curve, her honey-blonde hair swept up to reveal the delicate line of her neck.
"You're not so bad yourself, Mrs. Nightingale," I murmured, leaning in to kiss her temple. Even though we were legally married, we’d decided to have a proper ceremony and reception at a later date. The most important thing had been shredding our contract, which we’d done more or less immediately, with a wine toast and feverish fucking afterward.
"There’s the happy family," Archer's voice cut through our moment. He appeared beside us with Trojan in tow, both of them looking sharp in their tuxes. He booped Mia’s nose and gave Clara a side hug. "I could tell it was you guys from the excessive canoodling."
"It’s not excessive,” I shot back. “Some of us are enjoying our wives.”
"Yeah, well, some of us don't have wives to enjoy." Archer grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter. "By design.”
I caught the edge in his voice. We'd been having this conversation more frequently since I’d lost the inheritance.
Most of the time I just wanted to needle him about it, because I liked when he got annoyed with me.
But also, we needed the money. It was his turn to try the inheritance thing out, but he didn’t see it that way.
"Unckie Archie!" The way Mia pronounced his name sounded more like Ouchie. It was the cutest damn thing I’d ever heard, after Naff. Mia reached for him, and he took her from my arms with surprising gentleness.
"Hey, monster. You being good for your mom and Naff?" Archer smiled down at Mia. She’d warmed up to him quickly, and the role of uncle looked surprisingly good on him.
"Yes," Mia said solemnly.
“You could have one of these too, you know,” I said in a low voice. “All you have to do is get married and—”
Archer sighed loudly, directing his attention at Mia. “Mia doesn’t want a cousin!”
Clara laughed, linking her arm through mine. “That’s right. She wants a baby sister.”
I kissed Clara’s forehead, fully unable to keep the words inside me. “And we intend to give her one.”
“Are you trying to have a baby already?” Archer asked, lifting a brow. “It’s been like, ten minutes since you got married.”
“Almost three months, actually,” I corrected him. “Trojan knows what I’m talking about. Tell him, Trojan.”
Trojan sent us a sly smile, trying to pretend he didn’t know what we were talking about. “Tell him what?”
“That when you find the one, you want her to have all your babies.”
Trojan clapped Archer on the shoulder. “I could lie and tell you he’s wrong, but I don’t like lying.”
“You know, it’s funny. I want to have all your babies too.” Clara asked, resting her head against my arm. “How many are you thinking?”
“However many you want.” I cinched her closer to me, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “We can have two. Or a brood. You decide.”
“Okay. Listen. You’ve all clearly been infected with baby fever, which means I need to go see my doctor immediately.” Archer handed Mia back to me, sending me a pointed look.
“Oh come on, Brother Nightingale. There’s probably an anti-viral you can take for that,” I told him.
Archer sent me a flat look while he pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket. He angled himself away from me as he answered. “Hello?”
I didn’t pay much attention to him as he took the call, until his face fell and he said sharply, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“I don’t even want to know what’s happening on the other end of that phone,” I told Clara and Trojan.
Clara squeezed my arm. While we’d been hit with plenty of obstacles over the past few months, it seemed the worst was behind us.
The Gideon Hotel project had broken ground weeks ago.
The Queens land trust was now formed, which gave the community ammunition in the ongoing fight against Cross Developments.
Not to mention Clara and Mia were living in the penthouse again.
Clara was loving grad school. Things had been fucking great, actually.
But Archer's face went dark as he listened, suggesting that maybe the good streak was up.
“Yeah. Thanks. We’ll touch base soon.” Archer hung up the phone, swinging his defeated gaze our way.
"Sebastian Cross is suing us." Archer shook his head, a scowl forming. "For a hundred million dollars. We were just served the papers at the office. It’s a defamation lawsuit. It’s based on the information we submitted to get the Gideon project unstuck.
He's claiming we manufactured evidence to damage his reputation. "
My stomach dropped. "That's bullshit. Every piece of that information is documented and verified."
"I know. But he's filing anyway." Archer shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Which is ironic, because I think he’s here tonight.”
“I say we pay him a visit,” Trojan grumbled, scanning the party.
“Jesus fu—” I stopped myself before I could unleash the full string of expletives that I wanted. I kissed Mia’s head before handing her over to Clara, who watched me with a worried expression.
“This is going to cost us,” I said in a low voice. “Another legal battle. After the one we’ve already got going in Queens. After what we just went through with the city.”
“I know.” Archer raked a hand through his hair. “This—” He glanced at Mia, then seemed to choose different words. “Darn doody head. I can’t stand him.”
“Sebastian Cross needs to walk off a bridge somewhere,” I muttered, glancing around. I’d spotted him very briefly earlier that evening, but now I had no idea where he was. Probably off chuckling to himself with his demon friends while they wiped their asses with gold doubloons.
Archer angled himself in front of me so only he and I were speaking now. “This is bad.”
“I know. We’re hemorrhaging millions, sometimes by the hour. I get it.” I adjusted my tie, preparing myself to deliver the next words in the hopes that it wouldn’t earn me a punch. “If only there were some sort of wild inheritance that could solve all our problems.”
Archer sent me a dark look, his jaw flexing.
But he didn’t tell me to shut up, which felt like progress.
Silence fell between us. Around us, the gala continued—laughter, clinking glasses, people enjoying a beautiful evening where their entire worlds weren’t crumbling beneath their feet.
"It’s time, Arch.” I looked at my brother, my jaw tight. "You need to buck up and go find a wife."
Archer stared at me. "There’s no one.”
"Figure it out. Get us the money. You're a big boy—go fall in love. We need that inheritance. And you're the only option left."
For the first time, I saw true desperation in Archer’s gaze. His throat bobbed before he said, "She married someone else.”
My heart sank because I knew exactly who he was talking about. “You’re talking about—"
“You know who.”
His high-school-turned-college girlfriend, the love of his life, the girl I could have sworn would become my sister-in-law before we were twenty. But it didn’t work out. In fact, Archer had detonated it.
"Well, is it a happy marriage?” I nudged him, hoping for a smile, but I didn’t get it. “Listen, you’ll figure something out. Or go find someone new. I know it’s insane, but miracles can happen. You just need to put yourself out there. And we need this fucking money."
Archer didn't respond immediately.
“I give you permission to be a little reckless, if needed,” I added, hoping this would help.
Archer had always had a reputation for being reckless when he was younger.
It had been a sore point between us on occasion.
He’d outgrown it. But maybe he needed some of that reckless spirit to accomplish what we needed now.
His gaze drifted across the ballroom, his expression was unreadable. "I'll think about it."
Before I could push further, I spotted Sebastian Cross near the bar. He was tall, dark hair slicked back, and he radiated the kind of arrogant confidence that came from growing up with a silver spoon jammed up his ass.
“There he is,” I muttered. "Clara, can you and Mia stay here with Archer? I need Trojan to come handle something with me.”
Clara's eyes followed my gaze and widened. "Nash, don’t go talk to him. Please. You’re upset, so it’s better to just leave him alone."