Chapter 23 #2
Jace and I jerk apart like we’ve been electrocuted. His arm drops from around me. I slide back to my side of the seat, putting crucial distance between us even though Charles can’t see us, can’t possibly know what almost just happened.
My face is on fire. My heart is trying to escape through my throat.
In the rearview mirror, I catch Cal’s amber eyes. There’s a smirk there—not on his face, but definitely in his eyes. That knowing look that says I saw that. I saw everything.
Silas glances back at me over his shoulder, and the look he gives me—dark and possessive and hungry—makes me bite my lip as heat pools low in my belly. Want. Need. So many years of denial crashing into the present moment with the force of a freight train.
I clear my throat and look away, trying to compose myself.
“Peachy,” Cal responds to Charles, and I can hear the amusement threaded through his voice. “Parker’s only mildly terrified.”
“I’m not—” I start, but my voice comes out breathless. Wrecked. I clear it again. “I’m fine.”
Charles laughs, completely unaware of what he interrupted. “It’s just the quarterly review meeting. Boring stuff mostly. Financial reports, operational updates.” A pause. “Oh, and Ryan Matthews will be there.”
Who?
“Um,” I say, grateful for something else to focus on. Anything else. “Okay.”
“I don’t think it’ll be a problem seeing you,” Charles continues, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I mean, it’s not your fault his family moved out of state after he asked you out at graduation.”
“He asked me out?” I frown, trying to remember through the haze of lingering heat still coursing through my veins. “I thought he just—wait, he moved?”
“Scholarship,” Charles says. “Out of nowhere, apparently. Very sudden.”
In the front seat, Cal’s hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel. Silas goes very still, his jaw clenching in profile.
Beside me, Jace shifts—not closer, not touching, but I can feel the tension radiating off him. The barely controlled restraint that replaced the heat from thirty seconds ago.
“I barely remember him,” I say honestly. “It was graduation night. Everything was chaos.”
“Correct,” Charles’s voice filters through. “His brother stepped down last month. Ryan’s taking over the entire East Coast shipping network. Smart kid. Well, not a kid anymore. He’s got to be, what, thirty-one now?”
“Thirty-two,” Jace says, his voice carefully neutral.
“How do you—” I start, but stop. Because the pieces are clicking together. The way Cal’s knuckles are white on the wheel. The way Silas’s jaw is clenched like he’s physically restraining words. The way Jace knows exactly how old Ryan Matthews is.
“Whatever,” I say, shaking my head. Ancient history. Easier to focus on than what almost just happened in this back seat. “What else is on the docket today?”
“After the quarterly review, I want you to accompany Jace when he meets with the Dents, the Ramirezes, and the McCoys,” Charles says.
“Standard check-ins, but they’ll want to meet you officially.
The Dents run the restaurant group—five establishments, all legitimate fronts but also useful for laundering and hosting private meetings.
Maria Ramirez handles the luxury car dealership network—high-end vehicles, but more importantly, she’s got connections with half the politicians in the state.
Good for favors, intel, and legal maneuvering.
And the McCoys own the club circuit—three venues, excellent for surveillance and information gathering.
Plus, they move a significant amount of cash through legitimate business channels. ”
“So I’m being paraded around,” I say dryly, grateful my voice sounds steadier now.
“You’re being introduced as my Chief Strategic Officer and trusted advisor,” Charles corrects. “They need to know you speak with my authority. That you’re not just my sister—you’re part of the leadership structure.”
“No pressure.”
“You’ll be fine. Jace will handle the heavy lifting. You just need to be your brilliant, observant self and read the room.” A pause. “I’ll head to Charlotte after we meet with Ryan, but call me if anything feels off. Otherwise, I’ll see you back at the compound for dinner.”
The comm clicks off, leaving us in weighted silence.
I lean back against the leather seat, processing. Ryan Matthews. The Dents. The Ramirezes. The McCoys. A full day of being scrutinized, evaluated, and tested.
And underneath all of it, the memory of Jace’s lips inches from mine. The heat that still simmers under my skin. The way all three of them are looking at me now—like I’m something they want to devour.
This is going to be a very long day.
“You guys remember Ryan Matthews?” I ask slowly, breaking the quiet.
“Vaguely,” Cal says, too casually.
“Mmm,” Silas adds, which isn’t an answer.
“He seemed nice,” Jace offers beside me. “Very... enthusiastic about that scholarship opportunity.”
“That came out of nowhere,” I repeat. “Very suddenly.”
Silence.
“Right,” I say slowly, turning to look at Jace. “Out of nowhere. And you just happen to know he’s thirty-two.”
More silence.
I look between them—Cal focused intently on the road, Silas staring straight ahead like the windshield contains secrets, Jace examining his cufflinks with sudden fascination.
“You didn’t,” I say.
“Didn’t what?” Cal asks innocently.
“Whatever she’s thinking we did,” Silas adds.
“We have no idea what you’re implying,” Jace finishes.
I stare at them. At these three men, who used to control every aspect of my life, who made boys I liked mysteriously transfer or move or suddenly discover new interests far away from me.
“You got rid of him. Ryan Matthews asked me out, and you made his entire family move.”
“‘Got rid of’ is such an aggressive phrase,” Cal protests. “We merely...facilitated an opportunity.”
“An out-of-state scholarship that didn’t exist until suddenly it did.”
“Education is important,” Silas says to the windshield.
The audacity. The absolute audacity of these men.
“Why?” I demand. “Why would you do that? He asked me out. One time. At graduation. It was barely even—”
“He touched your arm,” Jace says quietly. His voice has gone darker. Rougher. “Three times during one conversation. That’s excessive.”
“That’s called being friendly!”
“That’s called testing boundaries,” he corrects. “And he was twenty. You were eighteen. Fresh out of high school. He looked at you like—” He stops himself, jaw clenching.
“Like what?”
“Like he wanted things he had no right to want,” Silas finishes. “So we gave him other options to consider.”
“You controlled my life,” I say, and my voice shakes. Not with anger—or not just anger. With something bigger. “You made decisions about who I could talk to, who could ask me out, who got to stay in my orbit. Without asking me. Without even telling me.”
“Yes,” Cal says simply. No apology. No justification. Just acknowledgment.
“That’s—” I struggle for words. “That’s exactly what I ran from. That’s why I left.”
“We know,” Jace says beside me. His hand finds mine again, but this time I pull away.
“Do you? Because sitting here, finding out you literally relocated someone’s entire family because he touched my arm two times—”
“Three times,” Silas corrects.
“—THREE times, apparently, which is insane—it doesn’t feel like you know. It feels like you think you were right.”
The SUV goes quiet. Even the engine seems to hold its breath.
“We were young,” Cal says finally. “And stupid. And convinced that protecting you meant controlling every variable in your environment.”
“We were wrong,” Jace adds. “About the methods. About not giving you agency. About thinking we knew what was best.”
“But not about Ryan Matthews,” Silas says, and there’s steel in his voice. “Not about any of them. They wanted you, Parker. And we—”
“You wanted me too,” I finish. “Except you never said it. You just removed competition and watched me from a distance and acted like overprotective brothers when you were actually—”
“In love with you,” Cal says. “Yes.”
The words land like a bomb in the enclosed space.
“We were in love with you,” he continues, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“All of us. For years. And we didn’t know how to handle it, so we handled it badly.
We were possessive and controlling, but I wouldn’t change how I went about any of it because it got you to confront how you felt about us six years ago. ”
“And today you let yourselves into my house,” I shake my head with a breath.
“If we’re going to work—I mean not like—you know we can’t just jump back—” Jesus.
this all sounds like a slippery—dammit, even slippery feels problematic “—I want to work on this. I don’t plan on leaving, and I want Liam and Noah to have their family.
However, it may look in the end, I want them to have their family in their lives, but if that includes you three, we have got to set up boundaries, and you three need to respect mine. In return, I’ll respect yours.”
The silence that follows is heavy. Loaded. I can feel all three of them processing my words, weighing them against whatever they thought this conversation would be.
“Boundaries,” Cal repeats finally, and something in his voice makes my skin prickle. “Like what?”
“Like not letting yourselves into my house without permission,” I start. “Like asking before you make decisions about my sons—”
“Our sons,” Silas interrupts quietly.
The words hang there. Our sons. Not a question. Not a guess. A claim.
My throat goes tight. “I don’t—we haven’t established—”
“Parker.” Jace’s voice is careful. Controlled. “We’re not idiots. We can do math. January to October. Nine months. Two boys who look exactly like—” He stops himself. “We know.”
“You don’t know anything,” I say, but it comes out desperate. Defensive.
“Then tell us we’re wrong,” Cal says, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Tell us those boys aren’t ours, and we’ll drop it. Right now. We’ll respect that boundary.”
I open my mouth. Close it. Because I can’t. I can’t lie to them, not about this, not when they’re looking at me like their entire world is hanging on my answer.
“I thought so,” Cal says softly.
“This isn’t fair,” I whisper. “You can’t just—we can’t do this right now. I have a board meeting in twenty minutes. I have to meet Ryan Matthews and pretend I don’t know you ran him out of state. I have to be professional and composed and—”
“And you’re right,” Jace cuts in. “This isn’t the time. Tonight. After dinner. After the boys are asleep. We’ll talk. Really talk. About all of it.”
“About boundaries,” Silas adds. “About what you need from us. What we need from you.”
“About those boys,” Cal finishes. “Because whether you’re ready to talk about it or not, Parker, we’re their fathers. And that changes everything.”
My hands are shaking in my lap. My chest feels too tight. Six years of carefully constructed walls, of protection, of secrets—all of it crumbling in the back seat of an SUV before my first day of work.
“Okay,” I manage. “Tonight. We’ll talk tonight. But right now—” I straighten my blazer, wipe under my eyes carefully to preserve my makeup. “Right now, I need to be Chief Strategic Officer, Parker Carter. Not scared, single mom Parker. Can you give me that?”
“You’re not single,” Silas says.
“Silas—”
“You’re not,” he insists, turning to look at me fully. Those storm-gray eyes pin me in place. “You haven’t been single since the night of Charles’s wedding. You just didn’t know it yet.”
The possessiveness in his voice should terrify me. Should make me want to run again.
Instead, it just makes everything more complicated.
“Tonight,” Jace repeats firmly. “For now, we focus. You go into that meeting and show them exactly why Charles made you Chief Strategic Officer. Show them you’re not just his sister—you’re a force they need to reckon with.”
“And we’ll be right there,” Cal adds, pulling into the parking structure of the office building. “Not in the meeting—that’s your show. But close. Always close.”
The SUV slides into a designated spot. Charles’s vehicle parks beside us, guards already moving into formation. The building looms above us—all steel and glass and the weight of legacy I’m supposed to help rebuild.
I take a breath. Then another. Trying to find that competent, composed woman who looked back at me from the mirror this morning.
“Parker,” Cal says as he cuts the engine. “You’ve got this. Ryan Matthews is going to walk into that room and see exactly what he missed out on years ago. And then you’re going to spend the rest of the day reminding everyone why underestimating a Carter is always a mistake.”
Despite everything—despite the tension, the revelations, the weight of secrets still hanging between us—I find myself smiling.
“Flattery?”
“Facts,” he corrects, turning to flash that devastating grin. “But if flattery gets you through the door, I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”
Jace opens his door, then mine, offering his hand to help me out. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. His thumb brushes across my knuckles once—a silent you’re not alone—before he releases me.
Silas appears at my other side as we walk toward the elevator bay. He doesn’t touch me, but his presence is solid. Grounding. A reminder that whatever happens in that boardroom, I don’t have to face it alone.
Charles emerges from his vehicle with four guards flanking him. He looks every inch the head of an organization—tailored suit, confident stride, the kind of presence that makes people step aside without consciously deciding to.
“Ready?” he asks as we enter the elevator.
The doors close, trapping us in steel and mirrors and the weight of everything about to happen.
“No,” I admit. “But I’m doing it anyway.”
“That’s my girl,” Charles says, pride clear in his voice. “Let’s go remind them why our name means something.”
The elevator rises. My reflection stares back at me—composed, professional, ready.
Behind me, I can see all three of them. Jace’s careful control. Cal’s easy confidence. Silas’s quiet intensity.
My men.
God help me.
The elevator chimes. The doors open.
And I step into my new life, ready or not.