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That’s in the past. I can’t live there anymore, I insist when the city limit signs for Macedon come into view. I merge back into the right lane and slow down a bit, extending my reflection time. She’s alive now—and she’s better than ever.

My phone buzzes in the center console. A peek at the screen reveals a text in the group chat to which Alex has been added. More messages roll in, indicating a dire need to check my phone. But since I’m so close to home, I don’t want to open the messages yet. There are still a few thoughts I need to sort for myself.

If she wants me, I’ll give her my body and my mind. I’m hers to utilize however she needs, in every capacity possible. It doesn’t feel strange anymore to think such a thing, to pledge my allegiance quietly to her. I’ve taken the vow, and I’ll stand firm in that. To protect her and to protect my brothers is my calling—and I’m more than willing to answer that calling.

There will never be another Lev. Nor will there ever be another Soren or Parker.

Or Alex.

My hands are slick with sweat as I maneuver onto the off-ramp, slowing at the light that leads into Macedon. I yield and then turn left, heading back toward my mansion, which lies empty. I’m aware of the mess I’m returning to from the airport. While it’s not sorted, I know what to do and just how to make sure things never go south again.

That’s likely what the group chat is about right now.

As soon as I reach familiar roads, I check my messages, noticing how Soren is asking for the rest of us to meet at the Pershing cottage. We have to talk business if we’re serious about this West Coast move. And I couldn’t agree more.

I just hope it’s the right move.

After I park in one of many available spaces next to my fortress, I step onto the gravel and gaze up at the towering spires, wondering what the hell I’m going to do with this place. Maybe I’ll shut it down for a while and keep it around for when I visit Macedon. Or maybe I’ll trash it. Or I could sell it.

Does it matter? This place never truly held too many happy memories. Except for Adelaide and Alex, I don’t see why I should keep it around. Though I’m sure Addie will have plenty to say about her childhood home getting demolished.

At any rate, it’s the least important thing on the list. I head inside and ascend the stairs, noticing how tense my muscles are now that I’m not driving anymore. A hot shower will do the trick—and then I have to head to the cottage, where the rest of my life will be sorted out.

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