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I nod, mute, each nod a hammer strike to my resolve.
From the living room, Grayson’s gaze meets mine, and the gravity of his expression mirrors our collective fear. He’s silent, but his concern is as palpable as the tension that now thickens the air around us.
Grayson’s jaw sets, a decision forming in his eyes. He pushes off the couch, a swift movement that carves determination through the haze of our unease.
“I’ll get Levi.” His voice is low but carries the weight of command.
“Be quick,” I urge, voice barely above a whisper.
He nods once and strides out, leaving Conrad and me in a silence that hums with unsaid fears.
Minutes stretch, thin and taut, before Grayson returns, Levi in tow. Levi’s entrance, usually so confident, falters under the gravity of our gathered stares. His gray eyes flick to mine, seeking an explanation, but it’s Conrad who steps forward to fill the void.
“Someone’s threatening Brielle,” he says, words clipped. “To expose us unless she breaks it off with us.”
The news hits Levi like a physical blow; his posture straightens, the casualness wiped clean from his demeanor.
“Expose us?” he repeats, the question sharp as a knife’s edge. “Who would?—”
“We don’t know,” I cut in, meeting his gaze head-on. “But they knew enough to make their threat credible.”
Levi’s hand clenches at his side, the muscle in his jaw ticking. Silence falls again, heavy, waiting for someone to shatter it with a plan we don’t yet have.
“Okay, okay—” Levi’s voice is a growl. “We confront the blackmailer head-on.”
“No!” Conrad’s rebuttal slices through the tension. “We play it cool, gather more info first.”
“Useless! We need action, not caution!” Levi’s hands are balled into fists now.
“Action could make it all worse,” Grayson interjects, his calm demeanor fraying at the edges.
They’re in each other’s faces, anger crackling between them like a live wire. The air feels charged, too thick to breathe. I watch as they circle each other, predators locked in a territorial dance.
“Stop!” My voice echoes, sharper than I intend. They freeze, turn to me. “Fighting isn’t going to solve anything.”
I’m stepping forward, placing myself in the center of their triangle of tension. “We need each other,” I insist, meeting each set of eyes in turn.
“Together,” I say it like a mantra, willing it to sink in.
Conrad’s chest rises and falls, his anger ebbing away as he looks at me. Levi’s gaze softens, the rigid lines of his shoulders relaxing. Grayson nods, silent agreement in his usually stoic face.
“Okay, Brielle,” Conrad concedes first. “What do you suggest?”
“First, we stay calm,” I start, “then we plan. Together.”
The room is a pressure cooker, ready to burst. I can almost see the steam rising from their heated brows as we huddle, trying to forge a path through the chaos.
“Okay—” Grayson’s voice is steady, but his eyes are searching. “Is there anyone who might have it out for one of us? Anyone you can think of?”
Levi shakes his head, a strand of hair falling across his furrowed brow. “No one specific comes to mind. I keep things…clean. No loose ends.”
“Clean?” Conrad’s eyebrow quirks up as he releases a short, humorless chuckle. “If only our situation was as tidy.” His attempt at levity falls flat, dying in the thick air between us.
“Come on, man,” Conrad says, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We’re like one big happy family, right?”
Levi doesn’t crack a smile. His jaw clenches, and when he speaks, his voice is ironclad determination. “This isn’t the time for jokes, Conrad. Someone’s playing games with Brielle’s life. Our lives.”
I watch the jest drain from Conrad’s face, replaced with a solemn nod. He knows Levi’s right; we all do. The laughter lines around his mouth fade into something grim, something determined.
