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"Come on," I say. "Let's go."

They're all already at the penthouse when we get there.

Of course they are.

I don't know who called who first. I just know that by the time Christian and I walk into the living room, every one of them is here.

Everly by the windows. Phone in a death grip. Blazer buttoned.

Zayne pacing. Trying to wear a trench into the hardwood.

Colston on the couch. Still and watchful, a glass of water untouched in his hand.

Wes in the corner chair. Silent. Arms folded. Which in Wes language is practically a meltdown.

Archer on the floor by the wall in a Stanford hoodie, jaw tight, looking like he's about to fight someone and hasn't decided who yet.

Levi at the kitchen island with whiskey already poured. Because Levi.

The room goes quiet when I step inside.

Then Everly says, "We're fighting this."

"No."

Her head snaps toward me. "Excuse me?"

"We're not fighting it."

Zayne stops pacing. "Like hell we're not."

"I already took the deal."

Nobody moves.

Christian closes the door behind us. "He took the deal," he says quietly. "His share for ours."

"You did what?" Everly whips around. "Without calling us?"

"You would've said no."

"Yes," she snaps. "Obviously."

"So would I," Zayne says.

"I'm out too," Archer says from the floor. Immediately. No hesitation. "If they take yours, they take mine."

"Same," Wes says.

One word. But from Wes, that's practically a filibuster.

Colston sets his glass down. "I'll pull Morrison myself."

"Absolutely not."

Levi finally speaks from the island. "You don't get to decide that for us, Everett."

I look at all of them.