One of the few single-family homes on the island of Manhattan loomed against the dark sky like a mausoleum.

My family used to have a house like this down the street…a hundred fifty years ago.

I’d raced down to Manhattan from Rhode Island, and now there was twenty minutes until the deadline was up.

Hesitating, I stood in front of the ornately carved double doors of the house. Mansion, really.

This was it.

The text messages I’d been ignoring had grown more and more heart wrenching, with the final Welp, I did it letting me know the reveal hadn’t gone well.

I could just sit out here for the next twenty minutes, run out the clock, go back to Evie, apologize for missing the reveal, sweep her off her feet, tell her I still wanted to run away with her… and leave my brothers to clean up the fallout.

I was suddenly sick of this—sick of the cold, sick of the lying, sick of seeing people at their worst, sick of the sleepless nights and the deception and the pretending to be normal when I was anything but.

I raised a fist and pounded on the door.

Because I was exactly what Evie’s parents had always said I was—a bad man.

I slammed my fist against the door again, and it slid open a crack.

The inside was dimly lit, flickering gas lamps casting shadows on the checkered marble floor, the paintings of disapproving Victorians that cost more than my bike, and the empty suits of armor.

Following the sound of arguing, I made my way down the wide hallway to a room more ornate than the foyer. A Christmas tree glimmered in one corner. Aaron and his half brothers were crowded around a table. Two black-and-white dogs were sprawled in front of the hearth.

Betty sat on an armchair near the tree, sorting through the piles of corporate Christmas gifts sent to Aaron and writing thank-you notes.

What a beautiful evening to set fire to my own life.

“And twenty minutes to spare.” Aaron, glass of scotch in hand, glided over the rug.

I didn’t say a word. There wasn’t anything to say.

It was my own fucking fault, wasn’t it? At the end of the day, I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself.

We lived with our choices, or we didn’t.

“Christmas cookie?” Betty offered, sliding a plate of Hershey’s Kisses cookies toward me.

Silently, I shook my head.

“I don’t know why Hudson was so concerned,” Aaron said, cold green eyes flicking to Grayson, who was texting someone. “He was always going to come through. You can’t buy this type of loyalty.”

I carefully set the folder with the printouts, evidence highlights, and flash drive with the full report on the table.

“Starlight Theater, one-point-two million in fraud.”

Aaron’s eyes widened—it was startling. Normally, he would never let that much unfiltered emotion show.

Picking up the paperwork, he quickly controlled himself.

“That wasn’t on the list.” Aaron flipped through the evidence. “We need to replace out who’s account that was,” he said to Betty, scowling.

“Could be an inside job, kiddo.”

None of that was my problem. Just another person’s life I’d thrown a live grenade at.

“I want a receipt.”

Aaron’s black leather-bound book sat on a nearby sofa. He picked it up and opened it to the page tallying up the payment for my sins. His fountain pen scratched on the cream paper as he wrote in the seven-figure number then tallied up the rows.

“Anderson always overdelivers.” He signed his name with a flourish then carefully ripped the page out of the book, handing it to me.

I knew the drill.

The Dalmatians wagged their tails at me as I approached—terrible guard dogs. Snowball would never— and tossed the paper into the fire, watching as the flames licked it and turned it to ash.

“The plane is waiting to take you to Idaho.” Aaron’s green eyes glittered in the firelight.

“That so?” I walked past him to the door.

“I’ll have the files sent to you.”

I spun around in the doorway, walking backward. “Yeah… I’m…” I spread my hands. “I’m done. I’m not working for you anymore.”

“Aaron’s sparking personality drove a stake through another relationship? Shocking,” one of his brothers drawled.

Stalking after me, Aaron slammed the door on his laughing siblings. He crossed his arms and regarded me. “You’re not going to quit.”

I stared back at him. I was so fucking done.

“Take Christmas.” Aaron nodded. “You can go to Idaho the day after.”

I turned on my heel. “Find someone else, Aaron.”


“Look who’s off the naughty list!” Jake crowed when I walked into the Brooklyn field office.

I set my helmet down and slumped into a chair.

Aaron wasn’t going to sit on that information, and Betty had insomnia. As soon as nine a.m. hit in, oh, six hours, Aaron was dropping a nuke on that theater. Then it was over. Evie was out of my life forever, left with only the bitter knowledge of my betrayal.

Lawrence tousled my hair. “I thought you were going to Idaho.”

“Aaron said to take Christmas.” My voice sounded dull.

“Aw, Hudson, we can all open presents under the tree at your house.”

“I didn’t get you anything.” Hudson shrugged Jake off.

“Aaron’s going soft,” Talbot remarked.

“No, he’s not,” Hudson scoffed. “He needs to give me a credit since you got him more money back than was originally discussed. You should have brought a check back for all the shit you caused me, Anderson. You almost tanked this company. This isn’t a charity. Van de Berg needs to pay the difference.”

Tuning him out, I stared out the window at the snowy city street.

She didn’t have to know it was me. I still had Ian’s phone. I could give it back. No one had to know. This thing we had could still work, right? Evie was forgiving—to a fault, really. I wasn’t that good of a person. I could take advantage of her good nature, right?

“You need a break, man.” Talbot set a bottle of spiced rum in front of me. “We can get cheap tickets to the Bahamas, Jamaica, somewhere warm.”

“Somewhere with pretty girls in bikinis,” Jake added, slicing off the wax seal on the liquor.

I didn’t want a girl in a bikini. I wanted a girl in a homemade knitted sweater with snowflakes on her eyelashes. “I am never going to be able to live without her.”

“B Squad just finished the big Svensson PharmaTech job,” Jake said. “They’re all meeting at Demarcus’s place. Christmas party? We can celebrate your freedom.”

I hauled myself off the couch.

“I hope you’re going to get my money from Aaron,” Hudson called. “Anderson. Anderson?”

My helmet fit me like a second skin.

I turned to my older brother. “Get the money yourself. I’m done, Hudson.”

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