Brinley ran.
She didn't look back as she crossed the marble threshold of Jaxson's penthouse, the elevator doors already sliding shut behind her as if the building itself understood urgency. Her chest burned, breath sharp and uneven, the echo of the city rushing up to meet her.
Behind her, somewhere above street level, everything had gone wrong.
Brandon knew something was off the moment he saw her.
She burst into the hallway like she'd been chased, eyes bright and frantic, hair loose around her shoulders. Not crying , Brinley didn't cry easily , but shaken in a way that set every protective instinct he had on edge.
"Brinley?" he said, already stepping toward her.
She shook her head once, sharp and final, then turned and disappeared into the stairwell.
Brandon swore under his breath and turned back toward the penthouse.
Jaxson stood frozen just inside the doorway, hands slack at his sides, expression wrecked in a way Brandon had never seen before.
"What the hell happened?" Brandon demanded.
Jaxson swallowed. "Nothing. I— We just—"
"Just what?" Brandon snapped.
"Just kissed," Jaxson said quietly. "That's it."
Brandon stared at him. "A few times," he said flatly.
Jaxson didn't deny it.
Something dark crossed Brandon's face , not rage yet, but betrayal brushing close.
"We had a pact," Brandon said. "You don't touch my sister."
"I know," Jaxson said. "That's why I stopped."
That didn't help.
Brandon stepped forward, fists clenched. "This conversation isn't happening right now."
He turned for the door, then stopped. "I'm finding my sister."
"I'll come," Jaxson said immediately.
Brandon held up a hand and pressed it to Jaxson's chest, firm enough to make the message clear.
"No. You've done enough."
Before
Years earlier, the house had been loud with laughter and late,night chaos.
Brinley had been thirteen then , Brandon's baby sister, five years younger, all sunshine and stubborn loyalty. She'd come flying through the front door without warning, barreling straight into Brandon's arms like he might disappear if she let go.
Nitika had stood frozen in the kitchen, frying pan in hand, adrenaline still humming in her veins from a moment that had changed everything between her and Brandon forever.
For half a heartbeat, she'd thought the world had tilted.
Then realization hit.
His sister.
Brandon had laughed when he saw Nitika's expression, gently prying the pan from her grip. "You're not going to need that," he'd teased.
Introductions followed — awkward, heartfelt, loud. Brinley had hugged Nitika like she'd known her forever, declaring she'd always wanted a sister. Brandon had rolled his eyes, affection written all over his face, already resigned to the chaos Brinley brought with her.
Even then, Jaxson had watched from the edges of the room.
Always watching. Always holding back.
Now
Nitika slid into the passenger seat as Brandon peeled out of the parking garage, tension thick between them.
"She's alone," Brandon muttered, knuckles white on the steering wheel. "And upset."
Nitika reached for his hand, grounding him with slow, steady circles. "We'll find her."
Brandon nodded, jaw tight.
Behind them, Jaxson stood in the empty garage, watching taillights disappear, knowing exactly where the line was , and exactly how much it had cost him not to cross it.