Page 107 of Sexting My Best Friend's Brothers
Except the receipt of the transfer and a two-word message: Debt paid.
I feel… empty.
I thought I would feel triumphant. I beat him. I beat the CEO at his own game.
But all I feel is a hollow ache in my chest that feels suspiciously like heartbreak.
I tape up a box of kitchen supplies.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I freeze.
It’s three sharp raps. But they aren’t the usual confident demand. They sound urgent. Heavy knocks.
My heart leaps into my throat.
“Go away!” I yell at the door, panic spiking. “I don’t want company!”
“Open the door, Tessa,” Ethan’s voice comes through the door. It’s not his CEO voice. It’s low, rough, and strained.
“I transferred the money!” I shout back, grabbing a pair of scissors from the table like a weapon. “We’re done! You can’t sue me!”
“We aren’t here to sue you,” Owen’s voice says. “We’re here because we’re losing our minds. Open the door.”
“I don’t want to talk!”
“Open the door,” Asher says. “Or I’ll pick the lock. It is a standard Kwikset deadbolt. It will take me approximately twelve seconds.”
I stare at the door.
They’re all there. All three of them.
If I open that door, I lose. If I open that door, I crumble.
“Go away!” I scream, tears pricking my eyes. “Just leave me alone! You won, okay? You pushed me out! Just let me go!”
Silence from the hallway.
Then, Ethan speaks. His voice is closer, like he’s leaning his forehead against the wood.
“We don’t want to win,” he says softly.
The lock clicks.
I gasp.
Asher wasn’t bluffing.
The doorknob turns. The door swings open.
And the Phantom Trio walks in.
They fill the small entryway. They are wearing suits, but they don’t look like the untouchable executives who run the city.
They look wrecked.
Ethan’s tie is undone. Owen looks like he hasn’t slept in days. Asher is vibrating with tension that makes the air crackle.
