Page 12 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

“The good girl?”

“You know, polite, sweet, helpful. The one who never causes problems. My parents loved that about me. Everyone did, Calvin did…but inside, I never felt…right. It’s like wearing a costume for so long, you start to forget whether you chose it or it was forced on you. And I still don’t really know how to be anything else. I’m not sure if that makes any sense.”

Hunter grins. “So, you’re not quite the perfect angel everyone thinks, huh?”

I manage a half laugh. “I am on the outside…just not on the inside. But I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve spent my whole life being told how to behave and doing just that. Even in Boston, I tried to be what Calvin wanted…”

Thinking about that won’t solve anything. It’s not as if I want him back. I can’t un-hear what he said about me, even if he was just quoting Brenna. I’m not sure I believe that was a quote, though. Calvin’s always been mindful of what I eat, how much I exercise.

Theo speaks from the front seat, his voice clipped yet kind. “Being a ‘good girl’ does not have to conflict with curiosity. It is possible to explore what you want and still be respectful of who you are. Perhaps you only need time and space to figure out where you stand.”

His words strike a chord in me. I sigh, leaning my head against the seat. “Thank you. I appreciate not being judged. I know that must sound silly.”

Gage’s low voice rumbles. “Not at all. When you’re figuring yourself out, what matters is honesty. But it starts with being honest with yourself.”

Honesty, the kind he’s speaking about, has never been on my radar. Not when I had so much to lose. Right now, though, I have nothing to lose.

I swallow, finding my voice again. “I’m sorry if all of that sounds overly dramatic. I’m just so grateful for your help that I’m rambling. I know you’re giving up your holiday for this, and I can’t repay you.”

Hunter laughs softly, his shoulders shifting under his sweater. “Relax. A road trip is a lot more fun than the usual family gatherings.”

Theo clears his throat in gentle admonition, but I see a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth. “Indeed, don’t trouble yourself about payment or gratitude. We are doing what any decent person would do.”

“Lots of people consider themselves decent and would not do this for me. Maybe it’s my Southern upbringing, but you say thank you when someone does you a favor. So, thank you.”

They don’t speak after that, which suits me just fine. Gives me some quiet to think about everything. Curling my legs up under me, I watch the miles roll by. The city skyline diminishes behind us, replaced by open roads and wide skies.

My future is a complete unknown, but for the first time in days, I don’t feel suffocated by the uncertainty. I’ve never shared the “good girl mask” thing with anyone before them, and it felt good to get it off my chest. They seem to understand, and it feels good to be understood that way.

Finally.

6

GAGE

I shiftin the back seat of Theo’s big white SUV, stretching my legs as much as I can without crowding Anya. It’s not easy—my frame is large, and the space feels cramped despite how roomy the vehicle is. But I’ll take it. When I see Anya exhale that small sigh of relief every time she glances at me, like she’s settling into her new reality, it’s worth being cramped back here.

The trust in her expression is humbling, and it makes me want to protect her all the more.

Theo sits at the wheel, upright and focused on the highway. His white-gray hair, carefully combed, gleams under the late-afternoon sunlight pouring through the windshield. Hunter, in the middle row, leans his head back against the seat, occasionally turning to shoot us a grin. Anya is right beside me, and every so often, I catch the faintest brush of her shoulder against my arm, sending a spark of warmth through my chest.

For the last few minutes, she’s been quiet, fiddling with the zipper on her sweater, cheeks pink with embarrassment from the admission that she’s always played the “good girl” and now doesn’t know who she is beneath that.

I shift my gaze from the passing scenery—endless stretches of highway framed by scattered trees—to her downturned face. She has that uncertain posture of someone who isn’t sure whether she belongs.

She never felt like she fit in anywhere. I know the feeling.

The first time I met her, even though she was smiling politely at the Carver family dinner, her eyes gave her away. It was right there for anyone who knew what to look for. That flicker of curiosity, of longing. And now she’s finally admitting that she’s dying to break out of the box everyone stuck her in.

Theo’s voice breaks the silence from the front seat, refined as ever. “Anya,” he says, “pardon me for being blunt, but did you enjoy anything you saw at our club? Sins, I mean. Was it at all…appealing?”

She stiffens for a moment, then her eyes dart my way. I can almost feel the tension in her body. “I—well, yes,” she murmurs, gazing out the window as if the highway might rescue her from the question. “It was overwhelming, but also…intriguing. I’ve never seen anything like that up close.”

Up close. Meaning she’s looked for it online?

My spine straightens. I’m aware, in a deep, instinctive way, that this is dangerous territory.Even so, my blood hums with anticipation.

This is my domain.