Chapter 17
OWEN
The door to Ethan’s office slams shut so hard the vibration seems to ripple through the entire floor.
I step out of the break room just in time to see Tessa storming toward the elevators. She doesn’t look back. She doesn’t hesitate. She’s swiping furiously at her eyes, walking with the kind of precise stride that usually belongs to Ethan—a march that says: Burn the bridge. Don’t look back.
“Fuck,” I breathe out. I know that look. She’s reached her breaking point.
I look at the coffee cups in my hands. I bought her a vanilla latte with oat milk because I noticed three days ago that dairy makes her bloat slightly, even though she denies it. I bought it as a peace offering. As an excuse to see her smile.
Now, the cups feel heavy and stupid in my hands.
I drop them.
They hit the carpet with a dull thud, hot latte splashes over my shoes and soaking the cuffs of my trousers.
I don’t care.
I run, ignoring the hot, sticky liquid seeping into my socks with every stride. I sprint past the reception desk, ignoring the startled look from the receptionist.
I hit the hallway just as the elevator doors are sliding shut. I jam my hand into the gap. The sensors trigger, and the doors bounce back open.
Tessa is standing inside. She jumps, clutching her purse to her chest.
“Owen,” she breathes. Her eyes are red-rimmed, but her jaw is set in stone. “Don’t.”
I step inside, filling the small space with the cloying scent of burnt sugar and wet wool. The doors close behind me.
“Tess, wait. What did he do?” I demand, my chest heaving as I see the absolute finality in her posture. “You can’t just walk out. Not after everything.”
“I’m taking a half-day to finish the press kits remotely,” she says, her voice completely hollow. She stares straight ahead at the numbers counting down. “I told Ethan I’m not leaving you stranded. I’m working the launch. But after Saturday, I’m done.”
“Tess, look at me. What do you mean done?” I reach for her hand, but she snatches it away.
“Don’t charm me, Owen,” she warns, her voice shaking. “Don’t use the ‘nice guy’ voice. I just had your brother threaten to bankrupt me again. I am done with the Bransons.”
“I’m not Ethan,” I plead. “I’m the guy who made you pancakes. I’m the guy who spent the weekend with you. Doesn’t that matter?”
“It matters,” she whispers. She finally looks at me, and the heartbreak in her eyes hits me like a physical blow. “But it wasn’t enough to make you fight for me, was it?”
“You’re the one who ended it!” I argue, my chest heaving. “You texted me! You said you wanted to be professional!”
“And you said ‘okay’!” she yells, the tears finally spilling over. “One word, Owen. You just let me go! And then you stood by for two weeks playing the friendly coworker while Ethan treated me like garbage!”
“I was trying to respect your boundaries! I was trying to keep the Unit from falling apart!”
“Well, congratulations,” she says as the doors ding open on the lobby floor. “The Unit is safe. But you lost me.”
She steps out.
“Tess!” I call after her. “I love you!”
She freezes. For a second, just a second, I think she’s going to turn around.
Then she shakes her head.
“No, Owen,” she calls back, not looking at me. “You love the idea of me. But you love your brothers more.”
She walks out the revolving doors and into the heat of the Austin afternoon.
I stand there, paralyzed. My charm, my smile, my “golden retriever energy”—it all failed.
I hit the button for the executive floor.
The ride back up feels like a funeral procession.
When I step back onto the executive floor, the silence is deafening. I turn my head. Asher is standing by the server room door. He isn’t looking at his tablet. He isn’t looking at the floor. He is staring at the elevator doors where Tessa just disappeared, his eyes wide and unblinking.
He looks like someone has just cut the power to his mainframe.
“She’s gone,” Asher says.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice tight. “She’s gone.”
I turn and look toward the corner office.
The blinds are open. Ethan is standing there, staring at the empty reception desk. He looks like a stone.
I don’t bother knocking. I don’t bother with the “cool brother” act. I walk straight into the lion’s den, kick the door shut behind me, and slam my fist down on his desk.
Ethan doesn’t flinch.
“What did you do?” I demand.
“I handled it,” Ethan says. His voice is a low, dangerous rumble. He turns slowly to face me. “I secured the asset.”
“Secured the asset?” I let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Ethan, she looked like she was walking to her own funeral. You didn’t secure anything. You broke her.”
“I did what was necessary.”
“Did you fire her?”
“No.” Ethan walks to his chair and sits down heavily. He picks up a pen, but his fingers are trembling. “She quit.”
The realization slams into us.
“She quit?” I repeat. “But the contract… the signing bonus…”
“She found a loophole,” Ethan says, his eyes flashing with a mix of fury and begrudging respect. “She got another job. Nebula.”
Ice floods my veins. “Nebula? Markus Vance?”
“Yes.”
“And they’re covering the clawback?”
“Full buyout,” Ethan confirms. “Plus twenty percent. She walked in here, looked me in the eye, and told me she is signing the contract on Monday. She is taking the ‘Be Seen’ brain trust to our biggest competitor to buy her freedom.”
I stare at him. “Holy shit.”
It’s a nuclear move. It’s brilliant. It’s ruthless. It’s exactly the kind of thing we would do.
“She’s bluffing,” I say, though I don’t believe it.
“She’s not,” Asher’s voice cuts in.
We both look at the door. Asher has entered the room silently, as usual.
“Vance has been trying to poach her since she graduated,” Asher states, walking toward us. “I saw his name pop up on her screen on Tuesday when I fixed her dual-monitor setup. If she called him today, it wasn’t a pitch; it was an acceptance. She has found her exit.”
“She’s really going to leave,” I whisper. The reality of it hits me like a punch to the gut.
Tessa. Gone.
No more clicking heels. No more arguments about fonts or laughing over oysters. She’s going to go work for Vance, a man who treats women like accessories and branding like warfare. She’s going to be in his office.
A spike of jealousy, hot and acidic, burns through my veins.
“We can’t let her go,” I say.
“We have no choice,” Ethan snaps. “If we sue her, it’s a PR nightmare. If we let her go to Nebula, she could destroy us in the market. She has us as a checkmate.”
“I’m not talking about the market, Ethan!” I shout. “I’m talking about her!”
I pace the length of the office, running my hands through my hair.
“We pushed her too far. You with your ‘liability’ bullshit. Me with the mixed signals. We drove her away.”
“She is a liability!” Ethan roars, standing up. “Look at us! We are fighting in my office forty-eight hours before the biggest launch of our lives because of one woman! She fractured the Unit!”
“The Unit was already fractured!” I yell back. “We’ve been broken for years, Ethan! We just used the work to glue the pieces together! Tessa didn’t break us. She just… she woke us up.”
I stop pacing. I look at my brothers.
Ethan is breathing hard, his face flushed. Asher is standing perfectly still, but his hands are clenched into fists at his sides.
“I’m done pretending,” I say, my voice dropping to a dangerous quiet. “I’m done with the ‘Strictly Professional’ rule. It’s bullshit. It’s a lie.”
“Owen,” Ethan warns.
“No,” I cut him off. “I want her.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable.
“I want her,” I repeat, feeling the truth of it settle in my bones.
“I don’t care about the policy. I don’t care about Harper.
I care about the fact that when she walks into a room, the rest of the world goes gray.
I care about the fact that she challenges me.
I care about the fact that she tastes like trouble and feels like home. ”
I look Ethan dead in the eye.
“I’m going to pursue her. If she leaves for Nebula, I’m going to chase her. I’m going to send her flowers. I’m going to show up at her apartment. I’m going to do whatever it takes to get her back.”
Ethan stares at me. His jaw works. “You can’t.”
“Watch me.”
“You can’t,” Ethan repeats, his voice rougher this time. “Because it would destroy the brotherhood.”
“Why?” I challenge. “Because you want her too?”
Ethan flinches.
“Admit it,” I press, stepping closer. “Stop hiding behind the CEO title. Stop pretending you didn’t check her for lipstick marks on Monday morning. You want her.”
Ethan closes his eyes. He looks pained. He looks like a man who has been holding back a landslide with his bare hands for weeks.
“Yes,” he rasps.
He opens his eyes. They are dark, swirling with a hunger that mirrors my own.
“I want her,” Ethan admits. “I think about her every second of every day. I dream about her. I look at the P&L sheets and I see her face. I tried to push her away because… because I knew if I let myself have her, I wouldn’t be able to let her go. And I knew it would tear us apart.”
“It doesn’t have to,” I say softly.
“It does,” Ethan insists. “She can’t be with both of us, Owen. She isn’t a timeshare. She’s a person.”
“I want her too.”
The voice comes from the window.
We both turn. Asher is looking at us. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes are burning with a blue fire I have never seen before.
“Asher?” I blink.
“I want her,” Asher says calmly. “She is the only variable I cannot solve. She is the chaos I need. When she is near me, the noise stops.”
Three of us.
We all stand there, the silence stretching tight enough to snap. We all want her.
We are all in love with the same woman.
“This is a disaster,” Ethan whispers, rubbing his face with his hands. “This is exactly what we promised wouldn’t happen. Remember Oakland. The pact.”
“The pact was about survival,” I say. “This is about living.”