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The words are quiet, but a small weight lifts off my chest.

The truth’s out there—at least I’m honest with myself this time.

It’s progress.She’d say that if she were here.

God, I wish she were here.

Is what she said true? She really wouldn’t judge me? She would still be with me even after everything?

No. I can’t be that selfish.It’d kill her eventually to see the man she loves waste away.

“You should go to her. If there’s something I learned from my experiences, life is short and unpredictable.” A muscle twitches in Ethan’s jaw. “Don’t waste the moments you have with your loved ones, because the clock keeps ticking. You aren’t guaranteed more time.”

“Work with her, Rex. You deserve happiness too. I know I was hard on you when I first found out about you and Olivia. But we all can tell you’ve changed for the better because of her. You’re opening up. That’s a start.” A new voice chimes in, and we look at the door, finding Maxwell standing there, his face pensive. “I had my problems with Belle. I actedin what I thought was best for her, and it hurt her. In the end, we were stronger together.”

That’s true. Maxwell pushed his wife away when he thought the Anderson curse was real, especially when strange accidents happened to Belle. But later, he realized he needed to fight their problemswithher. And now they’re happy together, with a cute toddler in tow.

He arches his brow as if he knows he’s getting through to me. “It pains me to say this, but don’t be stupid like me.”

My lips twitch. “Did you just insinuate I’m smarter than you?”

“Don’t push it, C.”

“I’m having your words inscribed and tattooed on my skin.” I waggle my brows, and he rolls his eyes.

Charles strides into the room, his blond hair shining under the overhead lights. “You know, you Anderson men are idiots when it comes to women. That’s all I have to say. Complete idiots.”

“Like you’re a paragon of success.” Another voice, and I groan.

Ryland. He even brought his laptop and what appears to be an enormous stack of papers to grade. The man looks like he’s planning to camp out here for a few hours.

This must be another intervention. I’m so fucking slow today.

“He actually is, if you think about it. Once he and Tay got through the ‘I hate you’ phase, he pretty much sicced himself on her like a rabid dog and never let go,” Steven quips as he enters the room too.

“You guys planned this, didn’t you? How the hell did you know I’m here?” I grumble.

Then I hear it.

Click. Clack.

Fuck. The damn lighter.

Elias saunters in like he owns the building, his eyes roving impassively over us before landing on me. He flicks his beloved lighter in his hand—a motion which, to this day, seems random to me, and I’m prettyobservant.

“The last I checked, you’re not an Anderson or soon-to-be married to an Anderson.” I walk back to the living room and plop down on the sofa.

The mobster smiles—or maybe it’s an amused grimace, if we can call it that—and he strides to the wet bar and pours himself a drink. “Your lot can’t survive without me.”

“Ourlot? What are you? Living in the eighteen hundreds?” My head hurts, and I close my eyes.

“I’m well read. What can I say? And half of you still owe me favors.”

Elias Kent has a system—a favor for a favor. It’s no doubt why he’s powerful—lending a helping hand and collecting favors from powerful people, cashing them out to his advantage. From what I remember, Steven, Ryland, and Maxwell all owe the man favors. Charles and Ethan, I think, got freebies from him.

I can’t keep track.

“Cut to the chase then. Why are you all here?” The headache quickly morphs into migraine territory.