Page 77 of My Ex's Billionaire Brothers

“My thoughts exactly.” Vivian sighs. “Theo, what do you want me to do? I’ve shut down the systems we can manage remotely, but they might still have everything. If we can trace them or block them?—”

I glance through the sliding glass door at the table. Anya’s laugh rings out, sweet and bright, as she chats with her mother. My heart twists. We promised her a break from drama. That was theentire reason we came here—to give her a peaceful Fourth with family.

But I can’t let our club burn to the ground just because Calvin decides to throw a tantrum. And I’m almost certain it’s him. He owns a cybersecurity firm, and has the resources and the sheer pettiness to orchestrate something like this.

“I’ll handle it,” I say finally.

She exhales, clearly relieved but still on edge. “All right. Let me manage things here, okay? You’ve been working nonstop for months. That’s why you’re on that weird road trip in the first place, right? Taking a break? Let me take care of as much as I can.”

I appreciate her concern—Vivian is always protective of me, in her own way—but this situation is bigger than a typical club mishap. “Thank you. Keep the staff calm and ensure nobody tries to pay a dime. I’ll do what I can on my end.”

“Understood. Good luck, Theo.”

I hang up and stand there for a moment, phone in my hand, pulse hammering. There’s only one option. I don’t like it, but bad times call for bad solutions. I text a request for the packet on Calvin and hit send.

I keep one for every member of my family, save for Gage and Hunter. I trust them with my life, my work, everything. All other Carvers are not to be trusted whatsoever. I learned that a long time ago.

Moments later, my phone vibrates with an incoming message. Harvey is always available, day or night, weekday or holiday,and his customer service is impeccable, so I expected the quick turnaround. Though perhaps not this quick.

His message:Fourth of July at the Carver house can’t be that bad, can it?

I grimace at the memory of last night’s fiasco—Calvin hurting Hunter, Alexei almost shooting him.Worse than you can imagine, I reply.

“Understood. Sending the packet now.”

A few seconds later, my phone pings as an encrypted data packet comes through. Perfect. I shoot off a quick thanks and check it out. Even on my phone screen, it’s damning—bank statements, hidden tax records, hush money payments to certain politicians’ spouses.

Enough to bury him if it ever goes public.

Setting my jaw, I type out a brief message:Happy Fourth of July. Heard you’ve taken an interest in Sins’ membership. Let’s talk. Thought you might find these interesting.

I attach the files and hit send. Then I wait, staring out over the backyard. The sky is a pristine blue, gulls circling overhead. Behind the house, the ocean gleams under the midday sun. Laughter drifts from inside—Anya’s voice, bright and mellow, probably telling some story from her childhood.

My throat tightens. I hate the idea of bringing this ugliness into her holiday, but I have no choice. If I don’t end this now, the ramifications for everyone will be catastrophic.

Seconds later, my phone buzzes with an incoming call. Calvin’s number. My pulse pounds in my ears as I hit “Accept.”

“Where the hell did you get that?” he snarls by way of greeting.

I don’t bother with pleasantries. “Doesn’t matter. I have it, and that’s what counts.”

“You can’t prove it’s real.”

“You and I both know it’s real,” I say calmly. “So you’re going to call off your hackers, kill the countdown, and never come near the club again. And let’s add a final condition. You will never bother Anya, Gage, or Hunter again. Are we clear?”

He lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re telling me this is how you treat your own brother?”

“You broke your fiancée’s heart and concussed your brother after stalking her here. You do not have the moral high ground.”

“It didn’t have to be like this. But you three swooped in and?—”

“Tried to clean up your mess,” I cut in. “We always have, but this time you crossed the line. You can’t treat people like disposable accessories, Calvin. Especially not Anya. You might despise us for stepping in, but guess what? That’s what real family does when you hurt someone you claim to love.”

“You stepped in and started sleeping with her,” he spits. “I’m your brother! How could you betray me like that?”

“You’ve never acted like a brother to me, or Hunter, or Gage—unless it benefited you financially or politically. And as for Anya? You strung her along for years, then humiliated her publicly because you cared more about your political ambitions. You cheated on her with your political consultant. You’ve got a lot of nerve talking about betrayal. You don’t have a clue what real loyalty looks like.”

“Oh fuck you?—”