Page 75 of They All Own Me

"Or?" Isaac prompts.

"Or we follow through with the original plan. Frame Thomas for her murder, get him locked up for good. But she'd have to disappear completely. New identity, new life."

Connor runs a hand through his hair. "With us?"

"If she wants." I keep my voice neutral, though the thought of her leaving makes my chest tight. "But it's gotta be her choice. No pressure, no manipulation."

"Agreed," they say in unison.

I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "But we also need to be honest with her..."

Connor shifts in his seat. "You mean about..."

"Yeah." I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. "About how we all feel. About what this could mean going forward."

Isaac leans back, crossing his arms. "You really think she'd be open to something like that?"

"Look at how she's been with each of us," I say. "She's not playing games. She connects with all of us differently, but genuinely."

"But sharing?" Connor runs a hand through his hair. "That's a whole other level."

"We already share everything else," I point out. "Our house, our work, our lives. Why not this?"

"Because most women aren't exactly thrilled about the idea of multiple partners," Isaac counters.

"Tatum isn't most women." I turn to face them both. "She's proven that over and over. She deserves to know she has options. Real ones, not just the bullshit choices Thomas gave her."

"And if she says no?" Connor asks quietly.

"Then we respect that," I say firmly. "Whatever she decides, we back her play. Agreed?"

"What if she chooses one of us?" Issac asks.

"Then the other two are just going to have to get the fuck over it and get used to having her around or figure out how to do business with a scientist who can clone her."

They both laugh. I find myself fortunate to have brothers who always have my back.

"So we tell her everything," Isaac says. "The whole truth about our feelings, what we're offering."

"Together," I confirm. "No secrets, no games. She deserves that much from us."

I start the engine. "Together then."

I pull up to the house, and something immediately feels off. The entire property is pitch black - no porch light, no warm glow from the windows where Tatum usually has every lamp blazing.

"Power's out," Connor mutters, already reaching for his gun.

"Check the perimeter," I order, my own weapon already drawn. "Isaac, get the generator."

We move in sync, years of working together making us efficient. The gravel crunches under our boots as we split up, checking entry points. The front door stands slightly ajar - not how we left it.

"Dom!" Isaac's voice cuts through the darkness. The backup generator hums to life, flooding the property with harsh fluorescent light.

"Jesus Christ." Connor's curse echoes my thoughts as we step inside.

The place is destroyed. The kitchen table's overturned, chairs scattered like pickup sticks. Broken glass glints on thehardwood. One of Tatum's cookbooks lies torn and water-damaged near an overturned vase.

"She put up a fight," Isaac says, toeing a broken lamp.

---