Page 66 of The Silent Hour

I met her gaze. “What?”

She inhaled, as though summoning the right words. “I need you to promise me something.”

I crossed my arms. “Depends.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m serious. You’re Julia’s husband and my brother before you’re anybody’s attorney—before Cortez, before this firm, before whatever the hell this turns into.” She paused, her eyes glistening. “Don’t forget which one matters when things get ugly.”

I held her gaze without flinching. “I don’t forget, Rena.”

There wasn’t even a heartbeat of hesitation. Julia wasn’t competing with my work, the firm, or Lila Marino. My wife was my wife—the woman I built my life with, mother of my daughters, the person I ran home to when the world outside became too loud.

“I know where I belong,” I said softly.

Serena watched me for a long moment, then nodded once. “Good.” She gathered her things—her leather briefcase, her legal pad—and slipped out the door.

I was alone. The bronze statue of Lady Justice loomed at the room’s far end, her scales balanced perfectly, impassive. For years I’d thrived on weighing everything: evidence against allegation, risk against reward, truth against whichever version someone could afford.

Now Dominic Cortez had handed me a new equation: his case, his daughter, my firm, my family. They hadn’t intertwined—yet. And that was a distinction I intended to preserve. I’d make the boundary unmistakable.

Cortez was a separate problem.

His case was a separate decision.

And Julia? Julia was the coffee going cold on the nightstand because we’d talked too long. The way she folded the newspaper ads in half and handed me the crossword without being asked. The sound of her voice through the wall, reading to our daughters.

There was no reason any of this had to change that.

I was certain of it.

Completely fucking certain.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ETHAN

THE SCENT OF ROASTED chicken filled the dining room, lemon and herbs mingling with the buttery steam rising from the mashed potatoes.

Aria dragged her fork through a scoop of food and licked it clean, her expression pure triumph.

"Daddy, guess what?"

"What?" I humored her, giving her my full attention.

"I paid the new kid a Feastable today to make Jackson leave Ellie alone during dodgeball."

"And did he?"

She nodded hard. "Sure did."

"It was a..." Ellie's brow furrowed as she searched for the word, chin raised like she was under oath. "...a settlement."

A laugh ripped out of me, full and unguarded. "That's my girls."

"Ethan," Julia warned, but she looked far too pleased with herself to sell the act. Her hazel eyes caught the amber glow from the pendant light above us, her mouth fighting a smile.

"They're learning real-world skills, bella," I shot back. "Trading goods for services. That's more than half the Armani-suited assholes I've gone against in court ever figured out."

She shook her head but gave in to a quiet laugh before turning toward the girls. "What's the new boy's name?"