Chapter 17 Tashi #2
“I need to know something,” I said. “And I need honest answers. If this continues, if the attacks escalate, if it comes down to choosing between your business and this relationship—what would you choose?”
The question hung in the air.
Orion spoke first. “Six months ago, I would have said the business without hesitation. We’ve spent seventeen years building Olympus Royale. It’s been our entire lives, our identity, everything that matters.”
“And now?” I pressed.
“Now I know what it feels like to have something—someone—worth protecting more than profit margins and investor relations.” His voice was rough. “I’m not saying we’ll let the business fail. But I’m also not sacrificing you to save it.”
“Same,” Leo said. “I spent my whole adult life being the charming one, the face of the brand, never letting anyone see past the performance. And then you walked in and saw through all of it in about five minutes. That’s not something I’m willing to give up.”
Ares was quiet longer, his expression unreadable.
“I’ve spent twenty years being the tactical one,” he said finally.
“The one who calculates risks and makes hard decisions and doesn’t let emotions cloud judgment.
And strategically, tactically, the smart move would be exactly what you suggested—let you go, cut our losses, rebuild our reputations without the complication. ”
My heart sank.
“But,” he continued, “I learned a long time ago that the smartest tactical decision isn’t always the right one. Sometimes you have to fight for things that don’t make strategic sense because they matter more than winning. You matter more than winning.”
I felt tears prickling behind my eyes and fought them back. “You say that now. But when the pressure really hits—”
“Then we’ll deal with it together,” Orion said. “That’s what we’re asking you to believe. That we’re serious about this. About you. About building something that works even though it shouldn’t.”
My phone—which I’d turned back on—buzzed with another text from Marta: If you don’t call me in the next hour, I’m buying a plane ticket. I mean it.
I showed it to them. “My best friend. She knows something’s wrong but not what.”
“You should call her,” Leo said. “You need people outside this situation. People who care about you beyond the scandal.”
“What would I even say?”
“The truth,” Ares said simply. “That you’re in love with three men, it’s complicated as hell, and you need someone to talk to who isn’t directly involved.”
“I never said I was in love with you,” I pointed out.
“You didn’t have to,” Orion said. “It’s written all over your face every time you look at us.”
Was it that obvious? Could they really see past my defenses that easily?
“This is insane,” I said. “All of it. The relationship. The timing. The way we’re being attacked. Normal people don’t deal with this level of chaos.”
“Good thing we’re not normal people,” Leo said with a slight smile.
Despite everything—the stress, the fear, the uncertainty—I laughed. Because he was right. Nothing about this was normal. And maybe that was okay.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. “Specifically. Not platitudes about fighting together, but actual next steps.”
“Neville’s tracking Henri’s financial trail,” Ares said. “Finding out who he’s working with and what they’re planning. We’ll know more in the next twenty-four hours.”
“Our lawyers are preparing responses to the Gaming Commission investigation,” Orion added. “Documenting the illegal surveillance, Marcus’s credibility issues, and the timeline of coordinated attacks. Building our defense.”
“And we’re meeting with our remaining investors tomorrow,” Leo said. “Being transparent about the situation, showing them our strategy for managing the crisis, giving them reasons to stay confident in our leadership.”
“What about me?” I asked. “What do I do besides sit here waiting?”
“You take care of yourself,” Orion said. “You call your friend. You eat actual meals. You stop reading news articles and social media comments. And you trust that we’re handling the business side while you focus on surviving the personal side.”
“I’m not good at sitting on the sidelines.”
“We know.” Ares’s lips quirked. “But right now, staying visible makes you a target. The more you engage, the more ammunition you give people. For now, you lie low, you rest, and you let us protect you.”
The word “protect” should have felt patronizing. Instead, it felt like relief.
“Okay,” I said. “But I want updates. Real ones. Not sanitized versions designed to keep me from worrying.”
“Deal,” all three of them said.
We ate in relative silence after that—not the comfortable kind, but the exhausted kind where nobody had energy left for conversation. When they finally left around midnight, each of them kissed me goodbye. Leo’s was playful. Orion’s was possessive. Ares’s was gentle.
And I was alone again.
But this time, the isolation felt different. Not like abandonment, but like strategic regrouping. They were out there fighting battles I couldn’t see, working angles I didn’t understand, trying to save everything we’d all built—separately and together.
I picked up my phone and called Marta.
She answered on the first ring. “Finally. I was seriously about to book a flight.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Things have been…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish.
“Complicated?” she supplied. “I saw the news, Tashi. The harassment allegations, the Gaming Commission investigation, all of it. Are you okay?”
“Honestly? I don’t know.” I curled back up on the sofa. “It’s such a mess, Marta. Everything’s such a mess.”
“Tell me,” she said simply.
I did. Not everything—some things were too private, too new, too fragile to share even with my best friend. But enough. Enough for her to understand why I’d gone silent, why I was scared, why I didn’t know what came next.
When I finished, she was quiet for a moment.
“So let me get this straight,” she said finally. “You’re in a relationship with three billionaire brothers, someone’s trying to destroy them by using you as ammunition, and you’re sitting alone in a hotel suite trying to figure out if love is worth fighting for?”
“That’s…an oversimplification, but basically yes.”
“And you’re asking me what to do?”
“I guess?”
“Tashi.” Her voice was firm. “I’ve known you for our whole lives. I’ve watched you rebuild your life after bad relationships, after career setbacks, after every disappointment that should have broken you but didn’t. And you know what I’ve never seen? You giving up when something matters.”
“This is different—”
“Is it? Or are you just scared because for once, you found something—someone—worth the risk?”
The question hit harder than I expected.
“What if I’m wrong?” I whispered. “What if they’re not worth it? What if this destroys me?”
“Then you rebuild. Again. Like you always do.” Marta’s voice softened. “But Tashi? What if you’re right? What if they are worth it? What if this crazy, impossible thing actually works? Isn’t that worth finding out?”
I thought about Orion’s intensity. Leo’s warmth. Ares’s protectiveness. The way they’d shown up tonight, not to pressure me but to remind me I wasn’t alone.
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe it is.”
“Good. Now get some sleep. Eat actual food. And stop reading whatever garbage people are saying about you online. None of them know the real story.”
“What is the real story?”
“That you’re brave enough to love people who everyone says you shouldn’t. That’s always been your story, Tashi. Don’t forget it now.”
We talked for another hour about nothing important—her work, her dating disasters, and the weather in New York. Normal things that made me feel human again instead of like a scandal waiting to detonate.
When we finally hung up, I felt lighter. Not fixed, but less broken.
I climbed into bed and, for the first time in three days, fell asleep without nightmares.