Chapter 1 CHAPTER 001: A Hot Nerd

** ~~SLOANE~~ ** I've been in love with my best friend, Finn Hartley, since we met in college ten years ago. It's not like I'll ever tell him I have feelings for him. I know he doesn't see me that way. He probably won't ever see me that way. Right now, we’re in his living room, and I’m holding him to my chest, listening to him sob. That damn girlfriend of his has broken his heart again, the third time this year. "I can't believe she did this to me, Sloane," Finn says. I run my fingers through his hair, trying to ignore how good it feels. "What exactly did she do?" I ask. "You still haven't told me.""I don't know how to say it.""Well, start from somewhere." My patience is wearing thin. I've been here for hours, sacrificing my Saturday to watch him disintegrate. I don't know why he bothers crying when he'll be back in her bed by next week anyway. They do this every damn time. I should be more sympathetic, I know. But ten years of watching him chase after the same toxic woman tends to erode a person's sympathy. "Delilah's not coming back, Slaone," he says. “She left me for good this time.”"You know that's a lie.""It's true. She's engaged. She sent me this digital wedding invitation, and I've been thinking about running my phone through a meat grinder." That actually surprises me. Engaged? Delilah's getting married? Finn pulls away from me, and I can finally see his face. The stubble on his jaw has grown past the sexy phase into something wilder. His white t-shirt is rumpled and stained with what might be yesterday's dinner. I've never seen him this wrecked, and that's saying something. He fumbles for his phone, fingers trembling as he pulls up the screen. Then he thrusts the phone at me. There it is—a nauseating rose-gold invitation with flowing script announcing the union of Delilah Crestfield and some guy named Hunter. Eight weeks from now. My heart skips several beats, a fluttering sensation spreading through my chest. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. This is the best news I've heard in years. The witch is finally, actually, genuinely out of the picture. "Poor baby," I say, trying to sound sympathetic. "Did you know she was dating someone else?""I mean, it's Delilah. When has she ever been faithful?""You've got a point." I hand him back his phone. "I just can't believe she's leaving me, Sloane." He collapses back into the sofa, staring at the ceiling like it might offer some cosmic explanation. "I find it hard to believe myself," I say. My eyes trace his strong jaw, his lips, the eyelashes spiked with dried tears. I've memorized every inch of his face over the years, cataloged every expression. This one is new—complete and utter defeat. It should make me sad to see him so broken, but all I can think is, ‘This is my chance.’ They've been lovers since high school, way before I came into Finn's life. Sometimes I wonder if that's the key to her hold on him—she knew him before I did, when he was just a boy with a fragile heart. I've watched Delilah string him along, always knowing she'd come back for another round. The thought that she's finally cut him loose is both thrilling and terrifying. What happens to us now? "Who am I without her, Sloane?" Finn asks. "You're Finn Hartley. You'll be alright." I reach over to squeeze his knee. “I can't be alright without Lila.”"There are over eight billion people in this world, statistically. Just pick someone new.""Statistically? You're such a nerd." His words hurt. He's said it a million times before, his usual teasing about my cybersecurity analyst job, my love for random facts, and my collection of vintage sci-fi novels. But today it lands differently. A nerd. That's all I am to him. Not a woman. Never a woman. I stand abruptly, smoothing down my jeans and adjusting my glasses. I’ll show him just how wild I can be. "You know what?" I say. "Let's go to a club and get wasted." Finn looks at me like I've suggested we rob a bank. "You want to go to a club?""Yes.""Have you ever been to a club before?" He sits up straighter, some of the fog clearing from his eyes as he takes me in—plain Sloane in her weekend uniform of jeans and a faded band t-shirt, hair in its usual bob and bangs. "Not exactly. But there'll be drinking and dancing. I bet it will be fun." I sound more confident than I feel. The truth is, clubs are my personal hell—loud music, sweaty strangers, overpriced drinks. But I'd walk through actual fire if it would make Finn smile again. A slow grin spreads across his face. "Great," he says. "You're right. I need a distraction." He stands up, suddenly energized. "I’ll go put on something appropriate, and then we'll stop by your house so you can change out of whatever the hell you have on right now." I look down at my outfit, suddenly self-conscious. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?""Nothing, if we were going to a library book sale." He disappears into his bedroom, calling back, "Trust me, Sloane. Let's show Delilah what she's missing!" I sink back onto the couch, already regretting my impulsive idea. What have I gotten myself into? ~~~ The club is everything I feared and worse. The dress Finn insisted I wear—pulled from the back of my closet, a relic from a cousin's wedding three years ago—is too tight, too short, and making me painfully aware of body parts I usually manage to ignore. We've been here for forty minutes. Forty minutes of watching Finn transform into someone I barely recognize—throwing back shots at the bar. Twenty minutes ago, he found a girl—a tall, willowy blonde in a dress that looks spray-painted onto her body. Amber. That's her name. I stand awkwardly at the dance floor, nursing a watered-down vodka soda, watching Finn and Amber grind against each other in a way that should probably be illegal in public. Her back is to his chest, her arms raised above her head, fingers tangled in his hair. His hands are on her hips, guiding her movements, his face buried in her neck. I feel sick. I feel stupid. I feel painfully, obviously alone. "Sloane?" Finn calls out. "You can't just stand there. Dance!""I don't know how to," I shout back. Amber frowns at me. "Then why are you here?""To keep an eye on my best friend.""Like a chaperone?""Yes," I say. "In case you try to slip him a roofie or something." Finn looks embarrassed. "Just ignore her," he says to Amber, his arm tightening around her waist. "She's a control freak." Amber snorts. "More like your mom.""Big sister would be more appropriate," Finn corrects. Amber's eyes rake over me in a way that makes my skin prickle. "She's hot though, with her bangs and screw-me glasses. A hot nerd." Finn grimaces. "That's not a very comfortable image."“Come on. Don't you see it?”“See what?”“You don't find her nerdish vibes stimulating?” Finn is thankfully avoiding my eyes. “More dancing, less talking.”"Seriously? You're not even a little tempted to see Sloane naked?"

Chapter 2 CHAPTER 002: A Plane Ticket

I feel my face flame. Who does this girl think she is? "I'm not," Finn replies, not even pausing to think. "Bummer." Amber pouts. "I do want to see her naked, though." What's her problem? Is she mocking me? Making fun of the plain, awkward friend? Or is there something genuine in her interest? Either way, I don't want to stick around to find out. I turn and push my way through the crowd, heading for the restroom, needing space, air, silence. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I chant silently. What did I expect would happen tonight? In the bathroom, I lean against the sink, staring at my reflection in the smudged mirror. "Get your shit together," I mutter. "This was your idea." My brilliant plan to cheer up Finn has backfired spectacularly. Instead of distracting him from Delilah, I've pushed him into the arms of Amber. And now I'm hiding in a bathroom while they're probably exchanging saliva and phone numbers. I splash some cold water on my wrists, reapply my lipstick, and steel myself to go back out there. I'm a grown woman. I can handle watching my best friend hook up with someone else. I've been doing it for a decade. But when I finally brave the club again, scanning the dancefloor for Finn's familiar form, he's nowhere to be found. The spot where he and Amber were dancing is now occupied by a group of college-aged girls taking selfies. Panic flares in my chest as I push through sweaty bodies, searching. He wouldn't leave without me. Would he? I spot them just as they're slipping out the front door, Finn's arm wrapped around Amber's waist, her head thrown back in laughter at something he's said. They're leaving. Together. Without so much as a text. I shove my way to the exit, ignoring the curses and glares thrown my way. The cool night air hits me as I burst outside, just in time to see Finn fumbling with keys—my keys—at my car. "Hey, hey, hey. Where are you going?" I hurry toward them, my heels clicking on the pavement. Finn looks up, startled. "We're taking the party home, Sloane.""And you decided to take my car?" He has the decency to look sheepish, a hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck in that familiar gesture I usually find captivating. But tonight, it just feeds my anger. How dare he stand there looking boyishly embarrassed while he was about to steal my car? Amber just rolls her eyes. "Chill, Mom. You can Uber home.""I will do no such thing." I snatch my keys from Finn's hand. "You two are drunk. Get in the backseat. I'll drive." Amber's eyes narrow, but she slides into the car anyway. Finn follows her, not quite meeting my eyes. I slam the door behind them harder than necessary. The drive is excruciating. My knuckles are white on the wheel as I navigate the dark streets, trying to ignore what's happening in my rearview mirror. But it's impossible not to hear them—the whispers, the giggles, the wet sounds of kissing. I turn up the radio, but even that can't drown out their murmurs. "I want you so bad," Finn says. "Take me right here, right now," Amber responds. Her voice makes my skin crawl. "Eww. If you have sex in my car, I'm flinging you both right out the window," I say, swerving slightly as I turn to glare at them. They're tangled together in the backseat, Amber practically in Finn's lap, her lipstick smeared across his neck. Her hand is dangerously high on his thigh. She catches my eye in the mirror and smiles. "Wanna join us?" Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. "It will be fun." I nearly drive us off the road. "What?" My voice comes out as a squeak. "You heard me. I've always wanted to try a threesome." Finn's eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. He can tell I’m pissed. "Amber, I don't think—""Don't tell me you haven't thought about it, Finn," she cuts him off. "Your hot little nerd friend, all worked up and desperate. I bet she's wild under all that... restraint." My face burns so hot I'm surprised the car windows don't fog. "You're drunk," I manage to say. "Both of you.""Not that drunk," Amber purrs. "Just drunk enough to be honest. What do you say, Sloane? You, me, and Finn? I bet you've imagined Finn’s hands on you a million times." The car falls silent except for the hum of the engine and my own thundering heartbeat. Amber has spoken my deepest, most guarded secret out loud, thrown it into the air between us like it's nothing. Like it's just another drunken suggestion, not the thing that's kept me awake for countless nights. I grip the steering wheel tighter, focused on the road ahead, afraid to look in the mirror again. Afraid of what Finn might see in my face. "Amber, stop," Finn says. "You're making her uncomfortable.""Am I?" Amber leans toward me. "Or am I just saying what Sloane is thinking? That's why you followed Finn here as his chaperone, isn't it? You want him." I slam on the brakes, pulling sharply to the curb. "Get out," I say, my voice shaking. "Both of you. Get out of my car.""Sloane, come on," Finn says. "I'm serious. Get out. Take an Uber to your place. I'm going home." Amber laughs, the sound like glass breaking. "Oh my god, I was right. You totally want to fuck him.""Amber!" Finn hisses. "That's enough." Is that all she thinks this is? Some base physical attraction? She has no idea what Finn means to me. No concept of the depth of feelings I have for him. She's reduced my love to something tawdry, something shameful. My hands are trembling as I turn to face them. "Get. Out. Now." Something in my expression must convince them I'm serious. Finn gets out first, then helps Amber, who's still laughing as she stumbles onto the sidewalk. I don't wait to see where they go. I pull away from the curb with a screech of tires, my vision blurred with unshed tears. ~~~ For almost a week, I ignore Finn’s calls. My phone rings. I let it. It pings. I swipe it away. I bury myself in work, hoping it will overwrite the humiliation burning through my veins. But Finn Hartley is like a cockroach. He always finds a way in. “Are you avoiding me, Sloane?” he asks from above me. I look up from my monitor. He's there, leaning against the edge of my cubicle like he owns the building. His hair is a tousled mess, dark eyes smudged with sleeplessness. He looks… wrecked. Good. “Who let you in?” I say. “The receptionist has a crush on me, remember?”“Finn, I’m busy.” I turn back to my screen. “Can we talk later?” Hopefully never. “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” I glance around. My coworkers are openly gawking. Jenna from accounting literally just nudged Carla from IT. Fantastic. Now I’m the office drama spectacle. “Will you keep your voice down?” I hiss. “People are watching.” He grins. “More like they’re checking me out.”“You’re so full of yourself.”“What’s with the attitude? Is it… that time of the month or something?” Oh. Oh, this motherfucker. I swivel my chair toward him, eyes narrowing. “Did you really just—”“I’m kidding!” he raises his hands in surrender. “Jesus, Sloane. What the hell is going on with you?” What’s going on with me? He's seriously acting like he doesn't know? Fine, let's play this game together. I stare at him, throat tight. “What do you want, Finn?” He reaches into his jacket and tosses something onto my desk. “What is that?” I ask. “A plane ticket to Asheville, North Carolina. I booked it for seven weeks from now.” I frown, not liking where this is headed. “Why are you giving me a plane ticket, Finn?”“You and I are crashing Delilah’s wedding.”

Chapter 3 CHAPTER 003: Meeting The Wrong Brother

I drag Finn by his jacket all the way to my company's parking lot, ignoring his protests. The moment we're in front of his car, I whirl around to face him. “What is wrong with you?” I ask. “You seriously want to crash your ex’s wedding? Have you completely lost your mind?” Finn runs a hand through his hair. “I need closure, Sloane.”“No, Finn. You need professional help. Therapy.”“I can’t just sit still and watch the woman I love marry someone else.” God. I want to punch him in the face. I want to kiss him until he forgets Delilah Crestfield ever existed. I want to scream until I shake the stars loose from the sky. “So what’s the plan, huh? You gonna storm the aisle? Ruin her big day? Shove the groom off the altar and declare your undying love like some cliché rom-com protagonist? Jesus, Finn, you’re better than this.”“I don’t want to destroy the wedding,” he mutters. “I just… I need her to look me in the eyes and tell me it’s over.” My breath catches. I hate him. I hate how stupidly, pathetically in love with Delilah he still is. How after everything—after the endless heartbreaks—he still thinks she hung the sun, moon, and stars. “Well, I’m not going with you,” I say. “Why not?”“Because I don't want to.”“You’re going, Sloane. End of discussion.”“I am not.”“I need you.” Oh. There it is. The words that crack me open and leave me bleeding all over this parking lot. I hate how my pulse jumps. Hate how he still has this power over me. “If things… don’t exactly go as planned,” he continues, stepping closer, “I need my best friend beside me. I’m not sure I’ll survive on my own if Delilah goes through with this wedding.” Of course he needs me. He always needs me. I’ve been stitching Finn back together for so long, I could probably rebuild him from memory. I know every crack, every fracture. I’ve held the broken pieces of him in my hands and pressed them back into place more times than I can count. But I’m tired. I’m so tired of loving him when he’s never even thought to love me back. I swallow the lump in my throat and force myself to meet his eyes. “I’m not your emotional support animal, Finn.”“Please, Sloane. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important.” And just like that, I cave. Because I’m weak. Because I’m pathetic. Because I love him. I will always love him. “Fine,” I say. “But when this inevitably blows up in your face, I’m not picking up the pieces this time.” Even as I say it, we both know it's a lie. Finn grins, that boyish, lopsided smile that makes my heart skip. "Deal."“Did you at least get me a first-class ticket?”“You know I don't do economy, Sloane.”“Whatever.” I turn on my heel and march back to the office. We’re really doing this. We’re really flying across the country to crash his ex’s wedding. What could possibly go wrong? ~~~ [[Seven weeks later]] I’ve been waiting at Asheville Regional Airport for over an hour, my suitcase propped against my legs. Finn was supposed to meet me the moment I landed. But of course, Finn Hartley, master of emotional chaos and poor decision-making, is nowhere to be found. I’ve tried calling him. No answer. Tried texting. Left on read. I check my phone for the hundredth time. Still nothing. The battery's at 12%—just enough to call an Uber and find the nearest hotel if I have to. I'm seconds away from throwing my phone against a wall when I hear the low purr of an engine that sounds like it crawled straight out of hell—a deep, thunderous growl that makes several people nearby turn and stare. I raise my head just in time to see a monstrous black Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 glide to a stop in front of me. The window rolls down, and—God help me—the man behind the wheel looks like sin itself. He’s beautiful in a way that feels wrong. Dangerous. Sharp-jawed, dark-haired, and dressed in all black like he's either about to commit arson or murder. His eyes drag over me from head to toe, sizing me up. I resist the urge to smooth down my travel-rumpled clothes or fix my hair. "Sloane Mercer?" he says. I blink. "Who are you?""I guess you can call me the wrong brother," he replies. "What?""Forgive my manners," he says, his voice smooth, deep, and annoyingly sexy. "I’m Knox Hartley. Finn's brother. Finn sent me to chauffeur you to our parents' house."

Chapter 4 CHAPTER 004: Torture Devices

So this is the infamous Knox. I’ve heard stories. Finn talks about him the way you'd talk about a stray wolf that occasionally shows up to your campfire, steals your food, and disappears back into the woods. Wild. Unpredictable. Maybe even a little unhinged. Now that I think about it, he does resemble Finn—same sharp bone structure, same annoyingly perfect mouth. But where Finn is sunshine and charm, Knox looks like he crawled out of a lifestyle magazine for sophisticated gangsters. “How do I know you’re not a kidnapper?” I ask, tilting my chin up. “You’ll have to provide proof that you’re who you say you are.”“Like an ID card?”“That would work.”“I don’t have any.”“See? Kidnapper vibes,” I say. “Why don't you call Finn and confirm?” I cross my arms. “He’s not answering. Why do you think I’ve been standing here for an hour like an abandoned dog?” I glance at the car. “And you showing up in an aggressive-looking muscle car that screams ‘mafia boss’ isn’t exactly helping your case.”“Are you getting in or not? I have places to be, young lady.”“Young lady? Did you really just belittle me?" Knox sighs, a long-suffering sound that suggests I'm testing what little patience he has. “Get in, Sloane.” I stare at him, deadpan. Then I sigh, because clearly, I have zero self-preservation instincts. I've already agreed to help Finn crash his ex's wedding. Getting into a car with his potentially murderous brother isn't even the worst decision I've made this month. “Open your trunk,” I say. Knox pops the trunk from inside, and I toss my bag in, muttering to myself about how this is how women end up on true crime podcasts. When I slide into the passenger seat, Knox doesn't move. “Why aren’t you driving?” I ask, glancing sideways at him. “Your seatbelt.” Oh. A safety-conscious potential kidnapper. That's... unexpected. I snap it in place with a click, and he guns the engine, pulling out of the airport pickup zone and onto the highway with a smooth acceleration that pushes me back into my seat. The moment we hit the open road, he speeds up, the Shelby Mustang roaring beneath us like a beast unleashed. "Whoa, slow down!" My hands instinctively grip the edge of my seat. "Wanna get out?" he asks. “No. But you're moving too fast. I can't even see the city." "Asheville? There's nothing to see." “Easy for you to say. You’ve probably lived here all your life and traveled the world. I hardly leave New York. When I do, I like to... fill my eyes.” It sounds poetic when I say it out loud, almost embarrassing. But it's true. I collect moments, images, sensations. Store them away for the lonely nights when my apartment feels too empty and my thoughts too loud. "You think I live in Asheville?" he asks. I turn to him. "You don't?""Nope. New York." Wait a damn minute. “You’ve been in New York all this time,” I say. “You sound shocked.”“It’s just... Finn’s never mentioned that. Ever. How do you both live in the same city and never cross paths?”“Finn and I have a... complex relationship.” The way he says it makes me drop the subject. We drive in tense silence for a while, until Knox suddenly swerves off the main road with no warning, the car taking a sharp turn that has me clutching the door handle. He parks in front of a dimly lit building with neon red letters that read: SENSUAL DELIGHTS. “Umm… Is this your parents' house?” I ask, knowing full well it isn't. Knox smirks. “Sensual Delights? Really? Does it look like a house to you?” The place is exactly what you’d expect an adult store to look like. Dark windows. Shady alleyway. “A sex shop?” I ask. “Bingo.” My brain short-circuits. “Why are we at a sex shop?”“Need to grab a wedding present.”“For who?”“My friend and his bride.” I hesitate, swallowing hard as the pieces click into place in my mind. “Wait... your friend is Hunter? The groom?”“Yep.”“Delilah’s fiancé?” Knox grins wickedly. “Yep.” Oh, for God's sake. Finn's brother is a friend to Delilah's fiancé? Why has Finn never mentioned any of this? It's like I know nothing about my own best friend. This is just a time bomb waiting to go off. “Would you like to wait here or come inside?” Knox asks. I glance at the building, then back at his face. Screw it. I unbuckle my seatbelt and step out of the car, awkwardly adjusting my glasses and smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of my top. “Let’s go buy some torture devices in Delilah's name,” I say, not the least bit joking. Knox chuckles. “Alright, ma’am. But I must warn you, some girls do enjoy being tortured.” We'll see about that. I'm going to get something with enough voltage to zap Delilah's fake, cheating ass right off the face of this Earth so she doesn't get to ruin Finn anymore.

Chapter 5 CHAPTER 005: Ever Heard Of Knocking?

** ~~KNOX~~ ** I must say, I did not expect Finn’s best friend to be this charming. Finn’s always painted her as some awkward nerd. But this? This sharp-tongued, darkly dressed woman standing in the middle of the sex shop, casually discussing electrocution and BDSM gear with the sales rep, is not what I signed up for. And yet… I can’t look away. Her leather pants are sinfully tight. Her dark boots are heavy against the polished floor. Her blouse clings to her like a second skin, and those blunt bangs and glasses? They remind me of the dominatrixes in my club. All she's missing is a riding crop and a stern command on those full lips. I watch as she lifts a violet wand, a device used to deliver electrical sensations such as shocks. “How dangerous is this?” she asks the sales rep. “In what sense?”“Like… would the highest voltage be enough to cause, I don’t know… electrocution? Just enough to zap someone’s soul out of their body.” I nearly choke fighting a laugh. “These devices are built to be completely safe,” the sales rep says. “They’re designed for sensory play, not… actual harm.” Sloane sighs, setting the wand back on the display. “That’s a bummer,” she says. She turns to the sales rep with the most deadpan expression I’ve ever seen. “Are you sure there's nothing more deadly around here?” The sales rep's eyes widen. “Technically… if you think about it,” she stammers, “everything is potentially life-threatening, right? I mean… people have died from sneezing too hard.”“So the answer’s no?” I can’t do this anymore. The poor girl looks like she's about to call security or faint. I step forward, sliding smoothly into their conversation. “Pardon my wife,” I say, placing my hand at the small of Sloane's back. I feel her stiffen. “She gets… intense sometimes. We’ll take it from here.” The sales rep all but runs away. Sloane is staring at me strangely. It probably has something to do with me mentioning the word ‘wife.’ “You know," I say, leaning in close enough to catch her scent, "if you really want Delilah dead, you could just hire an assassin." “That’d be too obvious. They'll track it right back to me.” I smile. “Right. But if you do it right, they won't.”“Do you have a contact?” I shake my head. “I don't.”“So you're like a fake gangster?”“Who says I’m a gangster?” She eyes the tattoos peeking from my shirt. “You're not?” I chuckle. This is going to be fun. “Tell you what,” I say. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find an assassin.”“That'd be very much appreciated.” I release her and start browsing the shelves, casually grabbing a pair of handcuffs, a leather paddle, and a silk blindfold. I hear Sloane following behind me. “You seem well-versed in all this,” she says. “It’s as if you know exactly what you're buying.”“It’s my line of work.” She pauses. “You sell sex toys?”“More like… I produce them. And I own a sex club,” I say, turning to face her, bracing for her reaction. Most people either get uncomfortably excited or visibly repulsed. Both reactions are tedious. She just stares at me, face blank. “You must be loaded,” she says. I didn't expect that at all. “Well…”“Well, what, Knox?”“I wouldn't know.” She frowns. “The fact that you're not sure if you're loaded means you actually are. Poor people don't have doubts that they're poor.”“Is that right?”“Yep. You're definitely loaded.” I smile. “Okay, Sloane. Whatever you say.” I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed talking to someone this much. She’s… different. Most people get all weird when I mention my line of work, my family included. But she seems normal about it. Like it's just another job—which it is, albeit a lucrative one. Which is probably why I can’t stop myself from asking what's been on my mind for a while. “So… you and Finn. Are you two… a thing?” Her face goes stiff. “No.”“Do you sleep together?” I ask. “Hell no.”“Right.” She looks ready to murder me. We check out the items at the counter, asking for them to be gift-wrapped. As we sit waiting, Sloane crosses her arms. “How are you comfortable with your friend marrying your brother’s ex?” she asks. Hmm. She went right in. “Well,” I say. “Delilah’s a gold digger. Hunter has the money.”“Ah. Classic.”“Hunter’s my friend. I might not like his choices, but as a friend, I respect them.”“Are you really a friend if you can't fight some sense into him?”“That would only make me the enemy. You won't win a fight against love, Sloane.” She glares at me. “I can definitely try.” I smile, unable to help myself. Her naivety is both endearing and tragic. “How long have you been trying with Finn?” I ask. “Where has that gotten you?” Her entire body stiffens. I’ve hit a nerve. I should stop. Shouldn’t push her. But there’s just something about her. Something about seeing someone so pure and innocent that makes you want to crack them open. Break them apart. “The universe is going to align people who are meant to be together,” I say, eyes fixed on her. “Whether they’re good or bad. Whether it makes sense or not. Best you can do is let people live their lives, Sloane.” Her eyes are blazing. “You’re not a very good friend, Knox,” she says. “Because I tell myself the truth?”“No. Because you’re selfish.” I smirk. “Oh? And where has selflessness gotten you? Have you had a proper date in months? Are you seeing someone right now? Or does your entire life revolve around Finn Hartley and his pathetic obsession with a woman who doesn’t give a shit about him?” Her eyes darken with something violent. And for a moment, I think she’s going to slap me. God, I almost wish she would. But instead, she rises to her feet, her eyes burning holes through my soul. “Fuck you,” she spits, turning on her heel and storming toward the exit. I lean back against the counter, watching her walk away. Her hips sway a little too much in those tight leather pants. And the way her short hair bounces over her shoulders as she pushes open the door and disappears into the night? Perfection. I’m going to have a hard time keeping myself from provoking Sloane throughout this wedding. I’m also going to have a hard time keeping my eyes—and my hands—off her. She’s trouble. The kind of trouble I want to drag into my bed and ruin. ~~~ Slaone stares out the window throughout our trip home. Arms crossed. Jaw tight. Silent. It’s honestly impressive how committed she is to ignoring me. Not a single glance in my direction, not even when I deliberately rev the engine just to see if she’ll react. I’ll admit, I kind of miss the talkative Sloane. When I pull into my parents’ house, her head jerks up. I can see her looking at the mansion in surprise, with so many questions written on her face. But whatever she wants to say, she swallows it back. She unbuckles, gets out of the car, and pulls her bag out of the trunk. “Let me help you with that,” I say. “No. I have hands. Thank you very much.” O-kay. I let her have that one, walking beside her as she marches toward the entrance. I open the front door for her, and when she walks in, her eyes sweep over the grand foyer. “Is there something I should know about your parents?” she says, finally speaking to me. “Like what?” I ask, though I know exactly what she means. I've seen this reaction before. “Like, are they from old money or something?”“You can ask your best friend. He’s upstairs.” She rolls her eyes, turning her attention to the massive staircase stretching up to the second floor. I know what's on her mind. She's wondering how she's going to drag that bag all the way up. “Just keep the bag down, Sloane,” I say, amused. “Someone will take it.” She doesn't argue. She drops it. “Where are your parents?” she asks. “Out of the country. They should be back tomorrow or next.”“Great,” she mutters. “So we have the house to ourselves?”“Umm… once you exclude the employees, I guess we do.”“Awesome.” She gives me a look. “Please lead me to Finn’s room.” I press a hand to my chest mockingly. “Of course, ma’am.” I lead her up the stairs. We walk down the long hallway before stopping in front of Finn’s room. I don’t even bother knocking, just push the door open. “Little brother,” I announce. “Your bestie is here.” And then we see it. Finn and Delilah pulling away from each other in a hurry. They’d been kissing. Finn goes completely still. Delilah, on the other hand, barely reacts. She just smooths a hand over her hair. “Ever heard of knocking?” she asks. I glance at Sloane. Her face has turned to stone. “How stupid are you, Finn?” she asks.

Chapter 6 CHAPTER 006: They're Soulmates

** ~~SLOANE~~ ** I can’t believe this. Three hours on a plane. An hour stuck in that miserable Asheville airport. All to find Finn tongue-deep in Delilah Crestfield? Finn has the audacity to look guilty. “Sloane, I’m so sorry you had to see this—”“Sorry?” I cut him off, my voice trembling with rage. “I expect you to have a modicum of self-respect, Finn. That woman is getting married in two days, and you're making out with her?”“Would you rather he make out with you instead?” Delilah asks. “Don’t do that,” Finn snaps at her. “Why not? She’s miserable because no one wants her. That’s why she spends her life trying to control yours. You’re old enough to do whatever you want.”"Old enough? You both are acting like children," I say. “What’s the plan here, Finn? Sneak around behind her fiancé’s back? Screw her in the honeymoon suite while poor Hunter’s passed out?” Delilah laughs like this is all some kind of twisted joke. Her engagement ring flashes in the light, something obviously expensive, which only makes my blood boil hotter. “Delilah’s leaving Hunter,” Finn says, looking confident. But Delilah frowns. “No, I’m not. Where did you get that idea from?”“We just kissed.”“So? Doesn’t mean I should call off my wedding.”“That's exactly what it means, Lila.”“Are you serious right now? The wedding is happening, Finn.” I watch the hope drain from Finn's face in real time, replaced by hurt. This is killing him. And it makes me mad. When will he ever learn? “Take your manipulative, cheating self out of here,” I spit at her. Delilah smiles. “Or what?”“You enjoy this, don’t you? You enjoy torturing him. You enjoy dangling yourself in front of him, knowing he’s too in love with you to see what a sick, manipulative game you’re playing.” Delilah rolls her eyes. “What are you going to do about it? Scold me to death? Jeez. Even Finn is tired of your scolding, Sloane.”“Shut that hole in your face,” I snarl, stepping toward her. “Get the hell out.”“Sweetheart, he’s the one who invited me over. Maybe if you were as hot and as skilled in bed as I am, he’d look your way.” I lunge for her. But Knox catches me. I'd completely forgotten he was here. His arms wrap around my waist like steel bands, pulling me against his chest and away from my target. "Unhand me, Knox,” I say. "I can't do that, Sloane." I struggle against him, fury lending me strength. "I'm going to get very violent with you right now.” “Let it go, Kitten. Let them be.” Kitten? “Why the hell would I do that?” I ask. “Because they need to sort things out between themselves. Your presence is only going to make things worse. Let's give them some privacy.” I want to argue. I want to scream. But he’s right. And I hate that he’s right. So, I let him pull me away. I can hear Finn’s voice behind me, soft and broken as he pleads with Delilah not to leave. It makes me want to throw up. By the time we reach the living room, I feel like I’ve been set on fire from the inside out. I drop onto the couch, fuming. Knox sits beside me, stretching out. “Is that how dramatic you usually are?” he says. “You were making it painfully obvious, by the way.”“Making what obvious?”“That you’re in love with Finn.” My heart jumps. How did he figure that out? “I’m not in love with him,” I say. “Oh, you are,” Knox says lazily. “Even Finn knows.”“What are you talking about? Did he say something?” Knox shrugs, studying me with those dark, knowing eyes. “Does he have to? We only just met today, and I sensed it. He's known you for years. Do the math.” I stand and begin pacing, my hands shaking as I try to process this. The room suddenly feels too small, the air too thin. “Well, you're wrong about whatever you think you know. I’m not in love with Finn.”“Right.”“I’m not, Knox.”“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Kitten.”“Stop calling me that.”“What? Kitten?” Before I can hurl something at him—an insult, a vase—Delilah storms down the stairs, running for the front door. Finn is chasing after her like the goddamn simp he is. They both run out, and the door slams behind them, the sound reverberating through the house. I don't even pause to breathe. I move to follow them, but Knox—being the troublemaker he is—grabs me by the waist again. “What is your problem with me?” I hiss, twisting to face him. “I don’t want you doing something stupid in my parents’ house.”“I care about my friend. You clearly don’t care about yours, or you’d be calling Hunter right now to tell him his fiancée’s cheating on him.” Knox snorts. “You think Hunter doesn’t know? She’s been cheating on him for months.” My mouth falls open. “Are you serious?” How does she do it? How does she have such power over these men? Knox pushes me toward the window, his grip firm around my waist. I can feel every inch of his body pressed against mine. The heat. The muscles. His scent. They all wrap around me, making it impossible to think clearly. It's an odd sensation, so odd that I don't even know what to call it. All I can say is I’m painfully aware of Knox's presence. It's like he's everywhere at once. Or maybe I’m reacting this way because it's been so long since I was last touched by a man. I try to focus on the scene beyond the glass. Finn and Delilah are by the pool, arguing. Finn’s hands are clenched at his sides, his jaw tight with frustration. Delilah, on the other hand, looks calm. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I don’t need to. I’ve seen this scene play out too many times before—Finn pleading, Delilah stringing him along. A bitter knot forms in my stomach. “If you want to spy on them, Kitten,” Knox says, his lips close to my ear, “you can get a good view from here. This way, you won't interfere in their business. We can even gossip about them if you like. Now tell me, Sloane, what do you think they’re arguing about right now?” I try not to notice how ticklish his breath is, how it raises goosebumps along my neck. “Probably about how she’s leaving him for good,” I say. “You’re wrong. She’ll never leave him. And he’ll never let her go. They’re soulmates. Toxic ones. But it is what it is. The cycle never ends.” There's something almost resigned in his tone, like he's watched this drama play out too many times to count. Unlike him, I’m not ready to give up on my best friend yet. "Newsflash, Cupid,” I say, “she's marrying someone else. Your soulmate theory isn't exactly fact.""You think the wedding would hold?"“Of course it will.”“It won't.” I scoff, turning to face him. "What do you mean by that? Are you going to sabotage it?""I don't need to. It's just the way they are. They break up, they make up. It's their toxic little cycle.""You're sick, Knox. Are you seriously hoping that your friend's fiancée breaks his heart?""Nothing would gladden me more than to see Delilah back with Finn." His tone is so casual, so nonchalant. I want to slap that smug look off his face. "Hunter's a good man. He doesn't deserve to go through this.""And your brother? Does he deserve this? Does he deserve to be constantly tortured by that woman?"“What do you think my answer to that question is, Sloane?”“I expect you to act like you care.”“You think I don't?” he asks. “Do you? If you did, you'd be chasing Delilah out of this house right now.”“Why would I do that?”“Because he's your brother.”“A brother who is obviously in love.” I can't believe this. “You call that love? She's using him. How is that love? Maybe you've never been in love before, so you don't know what it looks like. I can tell you with my entire heart that it doesn't look like that.”“What does it look like, Sloane? Is it the same as the feelings you have for Finn? Because that looks really miserable.”

Chapter 7 CHAPTER 007: The Bet

I feel something break inside me. How does loving Finn make me miserable? “Let me go, Knox,” I say, my voice trembling. “You might not be a good brother, but I’m a good friend. I’m not going to sit around and watch my friend be deceived again. I’m going out there.” Knox doesn’t budge. His grip on my waist remains firm, his body immovable. In a voice so calm it only fuels my rage, he says, “I can’t let you go out there, Kitten. I will physically restrain you if I have to.”“Who the hell do you think you are?” I snap. “You don’t get to control me, Knox. Let. Me. Go.”“I’m not controlling you. I’m preventing you from making a fool of yourself—again.” If my hands were free, I probably would have slapped him by now. “I’m beginning to see why Finn almost never mentioned you in the ten years I’ve known him. You're such an arrogant, infuriating douchebag who cares about nothing else but himself. You'd rather watch your own brother get his heart ripped out than actually do something about it.” Knox’s eyes darken, and for a moment, I swear I see something wicked flash through them. “That’s the thing, Sloane. Finn likes getting his heart ripped out by Delilah. He likes her toxicity. He's addicted to it. The only person seeing a problem between those two being together is you. Stop projecting your feelings onto Finn.”“You can't tell me what to do or feel, you brother hater.” Knox grins. “Think whatever you like. But I want what makes Finn happy. Unfortunately for you, that’s Delilah. Always has been. Always will be.”“You’re disgusting.”“What exactly can you do about it, Sloane? Wanna lock him in a maximum-security prison somewhere offshore? Chain him up in your basement? Finn will always go back to Delilah. You think you’re the first person obsessed with ending their silly little love story? Let. It. Go.”“I can’t.” The words slip out before I can stop them. My chest is heaving, my face burning, and I’m standing there like an idiot with my heart bleeding all over the floor for a man who’s out there chasing someone else. Knox tilts his head, studying me with the eyes of a predator who’s just found the weakest part of his prey. “How about we make a bet?” he says. I narrow my eyes. “A bet?”"If this wedding takes place between Delilah and Hunter, I'll let you be so you can chase Finn to the ends of the Earth if you feel like it. Follow him around like a devoted puppy. I won't lift a finger to stop you.""And if it doesn’t?" A slow, dangerous grin spreads across his face. "If the wedding goes to shit—which it will—I will violently pursue you, Sloane Mercer. There's no place in this world you can hide from me that I won't find you. I will crawl inside your head, your body, your soul. I will ruin you for anyone else. You won’t be able to think, breathe, or sleep without feeling me everywhere. I’ll make you forget Finn Hartley ever existed. The things I could do to you. The things I want to do to you…” For some weird reason, I can't breathe anymore. I turn away from Knox, facing the window again, wondering why my body has gone live with electricity. It's hatred, I tell myself. Pure, undiluted hatred making my body react this way—not desire, never desire. Yet somehow I'm hyperaware of every inch of space between us, as though there's no clothing barrier separating his skin from mine. I try to pull away, but he holds me close, his lips brushing against my ear. The contact sends a jolt through my system. “All you need is something else to obsess over,” he says. “Something to channel all that obsessive energy of yours toward. Let me provide that for you. Let me give you a hobby, Kitten, a very pleasurable one.” I want him to do it. Good lord. What is wrong with me? This is Finn’s brother. I can't be in love with one man and then become a hot mess around his brother. Yet my body is betraying me, responding to him in ways I've never responded to anyone. "You can't do this,” I say, not recognizing my own voice. “You’re my best friend's brother. There's a code of conduct about these things." "A code? Screw your codes," he says. "I see what I want, I take it. Unlike you, pining away in silence, letting your life pass by. That is something I’m going to teach you, Sloane Mercer, how to bend the universe's will and take what you want." My breath hitches. "I don't need your lessons. Thank you very much.” He touches my hips, pulling me further into him, and I don't think I have a single bone left in my body to resist. "I always get what I want,” he says, his voice a dark promise. “And since what I want at the moment is you, you better hope that wedding takes place. There's nothing I want more than to tie you up and bury myself so deep inside you that you’d blackout.” I swear my legs are about to give out. My skin is burning, my pulse hammering in my throat. I've never felt this kind of animal attraction before—this raw, primal need that overpowers reason, morality, loyalty. It's nothing like the sweet ache I feel for Finn. This is something darker, more dangerous, and infinitely more terrifying. "Get away from me," I whisper. "Take the deal, Sloane." I'm trembling. My brain is screaming run, but my body is leaning into him like a traitorous little bitch. In this moment, I hate myself more than I hate him, because despite everything—despite my feelings for Finn—part of me wants to see what would happen if I surrendered. I swallow hard, desperate to put distance between us, to regain some semblance of control. "Fine,” I say, turning to meet his eyes. “We have a deal. Wedding happens, I never hear from you again. If it doesn't... give it your best shot." Knox's grin is pure sin. "Oh, Kitten. You have no idea what you've just done." I’m pretty sure I’ve just signed my soul over to the devil in exchange for nothing. “You know what this means, right,” he says. “I have a wedding to sabotage.”“What? No. No. No. You said you were not going to sabotage the wedding.”“That was before you took my deal. You think you can win by playing fair?”“You're not sabotaging this wedding, Knox.”“Wanna bet?”“I'm done with you and your stupid bets. If you so much as breathe the wrong way throughout this event, I’m taking you down.” He laughs. “Oh, it's on, Kitten. Let the strongest man win.” Before I can reply, the front door bursts open, and Finn walks in, looking like he's been through hell. His hair is disheveled, his eyes red-rimmed, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The sight of him—broken, vulnerable, so clearly hurting—snaps me back to reality, reminding me why I'm here, what matters. We both turn toward him, and the way Finn's eyes move between Knox and me—noting our proximity—makes my stomach drop. Oh God. "What are you two doing?" Finn asks, suspicion dripping from every word. I step away from Knox like I've been burned. "Nothing." Finn narrows his eyes. "Were you two... oh my God. Were you two making out?"