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"Wait! You must sign this!" She shoves a clipboard at me. Quickly, I scribble my name, then sprint after Derek. Heratio is visible in the hallway.
His head is hung low, looking at his phone.
"Heratio," Derek says sharply.
His brother lifts his head. Tucking his phone away, he flicks his fingers. "In here," he says.
Derek strides forward, with me close behind. My heart races as I step into the room. A few chairs surround a hospital bed with white sheets tucked around its edges. Marco and Nathan are sitting in two of them. They glance up as we enter. Marco's mouth is a brittle line. I ache to rush to him, to comfort him. My eyes settle on the figure in the bed and my breath catches; Trey is lying there, unconscious. His face is pale, his breathing ragged.
Derek, who had entered the room with swagger, now locks up. He's staring intently at his brother in the bed. I can't read his face. It's something like anger and panic mixed together.
"How long has he been out?" he asks flatly.
"He woke up a few times in the ambulance," Marco replies from the other side of the bed. "But he wasn't aware of who we were or what was going on."
Nathan clutches at his knees. He's no longer wearing his wet-suit, he's got on gray joggers and a loose white, long-sleeve shirt. Did a nurse get it for him? Or did he send one of their personal staff to fetch him dry clothes? "Derek," he starts carefully. His hands tighten; his eyes stay on Trey. "We can't vote on who takes over the company. Not when Trey is like this."
"Of course we have to vote!" Derek growls. "You all know what happens if we don't."
"Maybe we can call our lawyers," Heratio suggests. "Surely there's a clause for if one of us is incapable. We can delay a few days until Trey is well, then––"
"No!" Derek snaps. I jump back at the ferocity in his tone. Marco looks at me like he's fighting the urge to get between his older brother and me. His urge to protect me runs deep. "Am I the only one who knows the details of the contract?" Derek asks, laughing sourly. "Of course I am. Listen to me; we vote before midnight, which is in just five hours. If we don't, we loseeverythingto dad's side-piece."
"Can't you have some empathy for your own brothers?" I ask loudly.
Everyone stares at me. Derek is turned so that he's eyeing me over his shoulder, like I don't deserve his full attention. "I brought you here so you could watch your idiotic simp of aboyfriendfall from grace. If you're going to get in the middle of this family...a family youare nota part of and, despite what Marco whispers in your ear, will never be..." He crouches over me with a smirk. "You should have something to lose like the rest of us."
My heart skips. "What?"
Marco stands from his chair. "Get away from her, Derek."
"She's the one who keeps getting closer. I'd be happy as hell if she disappeared from this building. Hell, from Italy. You're a nobody and yet you keep trying to hit above your position, Filia."
"Derek," Marco snarls.
"It's fine," I say. Lifting my chin high, I stare Derek down. "You think I have nothing to lose? You're wrong. I have plenty at stake here."
"Like what?" he snorts.
"Like him." Smiling at Marco, I add, "Marco's happiness is my happiness. What he loses, I lose."
Marco's eyes well up with adoration. Heratio and Nathan can't tear their gaze away from us. Derek shatters the moment with a cruel laugh. "God, you two are disgusting. Whatever. Then I guess you do lose, because Marco isn't winning the vote. That's set in stone."
"Only because you tricked your brothers into thinking I was an anchor around his neck," I huff. "I'm not a scarlet letter. I'm not proof that his priorities are skewed. If anything, I'm proof that Marco has the capacity to love and care for others. He saved me when I had no one... took me in, kept me safe. He didn't have to do that. He's a better man than you'll ever be, Derek."
Pure rage contorts Derek's face. "You’ve proved nothing. Now shut up so we can do this." Squaring off with his brothers, he whips out a stack of papers from inside his jacket. The pen in his hand gleams like a bullet. "It's time. I'm voting for myself, of course. And I assume you're voting for yourself, Marco?"
Marco grunts. "Fine. Let's tally it up."
"Great," Derek agrees sarcastically. He clicks the pen. "Down the line we go. Heratio?"
Heratio looks green. I hope he doesn't vomit. "I..."
"Heratio,"Derek threatens.
"Derek," he whispers. He can't look at anyone, just his shoes. "I vote Derek. Sorry, Marco."
I expected it, but still, my stomach roils uneasily. Marco is still as a frozen lake. His attention is fully squared on Nathan. Derek’s is too, and so is mine.
