Chapter Twenty-four

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BROOKLYN

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BROOKLYN

"I can never find the right time to tell him," I mumble, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my sweater. "I told you, I tried at the bonfire, but it just... hasn't come up since then."

Tori sighs and leans forward, her elbows planted firmly on her knees. Her expression softens, but the look in her eyes is serious.

"You need to tell him, Brooklyn," she says, her voice calm but firm. "You were pregnant with his child. That's not the kind of secret that stays buried. If it comes out at the wrong time, it could destroy everything. You owe it to both of you to say it before someone else does."

"If you found out you were pregnant, would you tell Grayson?" I counter gently.

Her smile vanishes. A subtle frown creeps across her lips, and she stiffens like I just hit a nerve. She doesn't answer, and instead, she changes the subject.

"So..." Tori says, voice lighter. "How does it feel running a multi-million-dollar company?"

I roll my eyes and groan. "I'm signing it over to Spencer."

Tori gasps like I just announced I'm giving away a winning lottery ticket. "What?! Why would you do that? You could be rich, Brooklyn! You could travel the world, buy anything—literally anything—you want."

"That company's the reason Spencer and I fell apart in the first place," I say quietly. "It tore us to pieces once. I'm not going to let it finish the job."

The truth is, the company has never been a dream of mine. I never wanted to be in charge of empires or sit in glass towers. I wanted love. I wanted peace. I wanted Spencer. And somehow, life gave me the company and took him away.

"There are too many what ifs hanging over my head," I admit. "What if his dad never got sick? What if he never left? What if we fought harder to stay together? I can't live in the past and run a future that isn't mine."

"You know," Tori says, crossing her arms, "for someone who says they're not in love with Spencer anymore, you sure act like it."

I shoot her a glare. "Please don't start."

"I'm just saying," she shrugs. "Anyway, aren't you the one who told me to back off Dillon and stay out of trouble?"

I smirk. "Touché. But if I'm not allowed to give you advice, then you don't get to judge me about signing over a company."

"Fair," she mutters with a grin. "Also, I'm being nosy again, huh?"

I hold up my thumb and pointer finger, leaving the smallest space between them. "Just a little."

She laughs, and for a moment, we're just two girls, putting off the mess waiting outside this room. But I know what I have to do. I've been dodging it for days.

"I'm going to go talk to him," I say, standing up. "About everything."

Tori grabs my wrist before I can get to the door. Her grip is firm, and when I turn to her, her eyes are filled with something between amusement and concern.

"Not like that you're not. Shower. Now."

I lock the bathroom door behind me and turn the water on as hot as it will go. Steam begins to cloud the mirror, and the sound of rushing water fills the room. I strip out of my clothes slowly, my mind already playing a movie I've tried to delete.

Last night replays in my head in vivid detail.

The second I knocked, he opened the door. We didn't kiss immediately. We talked. We laughed. We fell back into our old rhythm—two puzzle pieces that had been apart too long, but still fit. Then something shifted. One second, we were smiling. The next, his hand brushed mine, and sparks exploded. Then lips. Then touches. Then—sheets. Heat. Chaos. Everything.

I step under the water and scrub. Hard. I want to wash it away, but I can still feel him. Still feel his breath against my skin, his hands at my waist, the way we collided like two stars destined to burn.

And the worst part? I didn't stop it. I didn't want to stop it.

I step out of the shower, red from how scalding the water was. But I still don't feel clean.

My knuckles barely tap the door, but it swings open anyway—like it was expecting me.

The face that greets me isn't Spencer's.

It takes me a second to recognize him—golden-brown hair, soft green eyes, just a little stubble.

"Tristan?" I say.

He smiles and pulls me into a warm hug. "Hey, Brooklyn. It's been a while."

"Yeah," I smile back, trying not to let the awkwardness of why I'm here show on my face. "Is Spencer here?"

Tristan nods. "Come on in."

The moment I step inside, I feel it. The tension. Spencer enters from the hallway, his eyes meeting mine.

His jaw tightens slightly. Mine probably does too.

"Brooklyn?" he says, surprised.

"Hey," I say softly, and then nod toward the living room. "I came to talk. It's important."

Spencer glances at Tristan, and some silent exchange happens between them.

He guides me to the couch, his hand brushing the small of my back. I swear, he does it on purpose. I sit stiffly while he lowers himself beside me. The silence stretches painfully.

I finally break it. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but you're acting weird and it's starting to freak me out. I came here to talk. About... last night. But I can't even tell what you're thinking."

He swallows. "Brooklyn, I think your life could be in danger."

My brain doesn't register the words at first. "What?"

Tristan steps forward, his expression serious. "It's Elijah. He's the one who inherited the other half of King Enterprises. And from what I overheard... he's planning something. I heard him say he'd get the rest of the company 'one way or another.' He's dangerous."

I blink. "You're scaring me."

"You should be scared," Spencer says. "You don't know what he's capable of."

"But I'm signing over my half to you," I protest, confused and frustrated.

Spencer shakes his head. "He's not going to let that happen. We think he's already trying to block the transfer. You can't just brush this off, Brooklyn."

"Then what do you want me to do?" I ask, standing up. "Stay locked inside forever? Let Elijah win because I'm afraid?"

"No," he says, rising to his feet and gently placing his hands on my cheeks. "I want you safe. I don't care if it means staying with Liam or letting me hire a security team, but I'm not letting anything happen to you."

He pulls me into his arms, and my body instantly softens against his. His scent is comforting—cologne and something purely Spencer.

"I hope you don't think I forgot last night," he murmurs in my ear, and the way he says it sends a shiver down my spine.

A loud ding slices through the air, and we both flinch. My phone screen lights up.

It's a text.

Spencer watches as I pick it up and read aloud.

"I didn't have the chance of meeting you yet, partner. I got to thinking. Maybe you can let me take over things for a while. I'll send the papers."

It's from an unknown number.

My hands shake. "How did he get my number?"

Spencer stares at the screen. His eyes narrow. "He's closer than we thought."

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