Page 88 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

Anya nods. “Thank you, Theo.”

I can’t help the feeling that this might be a trap. The cynic in me scoffs—Calvin’s up to something. But the hopeful side wonders if maybe this is the start of him trying to repair the damage.

Anya’s father speaks then, his voice quieter than usual. “Maybe he really is sorry. Still can’t forgive him for storming in here and attacking my family. But if he’s trying to apologize, perhaps he is not lost after all.”

I stay silent, reflecting on the texts I exchanged with Calvin on the beach. He seems genuinely shaken. He might be in damage-control mode, but there was also a sliver of humility I hadn’t seen before. Maybe I did get through to him. Maybe he wants to keep that small opening for reconciliation one day.

Grace is a funny thing. You don’t give it because someone deserves it. You give it because it’s yours to give, and sometimes that’s the right thing to do. I’m still not sure about Calvin, though.

After a long moment, Gage takes a step back and crosses his arms, scanning the flowers once more with a wry tilt of his lips. “Well. Let’s see if we can navigate the jungle and get back to breakfast.”

Hunter chuckles, placing a hand lightly on Anya’s shoulder. “Agreed. I’m starving again. It’s not every day I meet my quota for emotional drama before nine in the morning.”

Anya laughs—a bright, genuine sound that makes her eyes crinkle. “I guess that’s that. Flowers or not, I’m just glad it’s over. Calvin’s done. We can move on.”

The house is warm, the Markoff parents are calmer, and Anya’s voice rings with a confidence I haven’t always heard. Whatever Calvin’s reasons, it looks like he’s taken at least one step toward decency. I’ll keep my eyes open, remain vigilant—but I can’t deny that a part of me hopes this is more than a stunt. Maybe, somehow, we’ve opened a door to a future where we can call him a brother again.

Time will tell. For now, I slip my phone into my pocket, content to let the flowers do the talking. Let them remind me that the most stubborn seeds can sometimes bloom, given the rightconditions—even if it takes an entire greenhouse worth of them to get there.

EPILOGUE

ANYA

Five months ago,I never would have imagined spending New Year’s Eve at a kink club—let alone one decorated like a dark fairy-tale forest, complete with body-painted “flowers” dancing under flashing lights. Yet here I am, standing at the center of Sins, directing staff like a maestro waving a baton.

And you know what? I’m actuallyexcitedabout it.

The transformation from smoldering, moody club to a lush, bohemian wonderland was no small feat. During the day, the entire main floor of Sins became unrecognizable as Vivian’s assistant, Dirt, carefully placed the potted black orchids, painted brambles, and dozens of velvet drapes.

Yes,Dirt—a man who goes by that name and dresses the part too, clad in a hooded gimp suit that only shows his eyes. He’s quiet, exceedingly polite, and possibly the best assistant I’ve ever seen. He fetches coffee like it’s a sacred mission. He handles day-of logistics like he runs the best event planning agency on the East Coast.Andhe can rock spike-studded boots better than I ever could.

Still, I can’t say I’mfullyat ease with everything at Sins. There are pockets of extreme kink everywhere you turn, and to be honest, it’s taken me time to get used to it. But every month, I grow a little more comfortable in this strange, liberating atmosphere.

Now, on New Year’s Eve, I’m proudly displaying a sparkly midnight-blue dress, high heels, and a sultry smile I never knew I had. Because despite all my anxieties, this is my life now, and I love it.

I glance across the floor where Vivian is shooing staff into their positions. She’s in her element, wearing a black latex dress that shows off her tattooed shoulders, hair pinned back in a twist. She gives me a discreet thumbs-up.

So far, the place looksamazing.The lights are low, tinted violet, and a faint haze of smoke catches the beams in midair. Bodysuit-wearing acrobats and nude models painted to look like dark ferns and moonlit flowers move about in slow, graceful arcs. It’s sexy and eerie, exactly the vibe I wanted.

My phone buzzes in my hand with a message from Gage:We’re outside, waiting for the grand reveal. Hunter’s about to pop a blood vessel with excitement.

A laugh bubbles up in my chest. I shoot back a text telling them to give me ten more minutes. They’ve been banned from the club all day so they don’t see the decorations too soon. It’s half tradition, half superstition. Since I’ve become theirentertainment coordinator, surprising them with elaborate plans has become one of my favorite pastimes.

I still can’t believe they let me take over tonight, though.

The DJ booth is set, the bar is stocked, and the staff is ready to welcome members for the year’s biggest party. The music is a low, pulsing bass line right now, set to ramp up once the doors officially open. Dirt stands near the entrance, waiting to unbolt the locks when I give the signal.

“Alright,” I call over the mild thump of the speakers, “showtime in three…two…one!”

Dirt’s gloved hand slides the bolt, and he pulls open the double doors. Immediately, a rush of cold December air gusts into the lobby, followed by the excited chatter of guests. They surge in—a mix of curious new members and the club’s regulars. A wave of murmurs ripples through the crowd as they catch sight of the decor. Some look entranced, others mildly amused. One or two are already checking out the body-painted living “floral arrangements.” I spot a senator’s aide in a see-through tailored suit, scanning the place with wide eyes framed by a mask that hides almost nothing.

I step aside to let the line flow, then slip out through a side exit so I can greet my guys personally. On the sidewalk, I spot Gage’s towering frame first, with Hunter bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Theo adjusting the collar of his coat. My heart does a silly somersault, like it always does when I see them.

“Finally,” Hunter groans, dragging out the word. “We’ve been freezing our balls off.”

I grin, linking my arm through his. “It’s notthatcold, Mr. ‘I wrestled in the snow with a judo sensei for a week straight.’”

“I was young and dumb and didn’t feel the cold the way I do now as an old man.” He laughs before he pulls me close for a quick kiss.