Page 122 of Jett

The house feels heavier now, the happiness drained from its walls. One visit from Paul, and it’s like all the light has been snuffed out.

His presence suffocates me, and it’s a chore dodging his questions while trying to not give away what Cari means to me. I’m left with no choice but to spend all day tomorrow working in the study, dealing with anything related to Knight Enterprises. My father will follow me there, but at least I’ll have gotten him away from Cari and Brooke. They shouldn’t have to suffer this.

Fuck my life.

CARI

Brooke clutches Elephant as I tuck her into bed. Her tiny arms wrap around the stuffed animal, her big eyes blinking up at me under the soft glow of her bedside lamp.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Brooke asks.

She’s been asking this every night, her little world spinning with possibilities. I wish I could mirror her excitement. But I know better.There’s nothing wonderful left here now.

“Maybe something fun,” I say softly, brushing a curl from her cheek.

She smiles, satisfied with my vague answer, and closes her eyes. I sit beside her for a while, her even breaths soothing the ache in my chest.

I close her door quietly and make my way to my room. My body feels heavy, my heart even heavier.

Our dream of escaping to the island, of soaking in three days of pure bliss—it’s gone. Disintegrated the moment Paul Knight appeared.

He said he’s only here for a couple of days, but we fly back soon. The timing couldn’t be worse. I already know what Jett’s going to do. Without the island as a distraction, he’ll retreat into work. It’s what he knows. He’ll throw himself into meetings and deals while I figure out how to keep Brooke entertained. Maybe another play date with Zara.

Sadness weighs me down.This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

But there’s something else beneath the sadness. A warning, a bitter reminder of the family Jett belongs to. He stood tall against the Bryces and Abigails of this world, but Paul Knight? That’s different. He’s not just part of Jett’s world—heisthe foundation of it. And I know, deep down, that the Knights will never approve of me.

Would Jett even tell him about us?If there even is an “us” to tell.

***

The air is thick with tension when I walk into the dining room the next morning. Brooke and I are the last to arrive, and I instantly wish I hadn’t come downstairs. Paul Knight sits at the head of the table, a newspaper spread before him. Jett sits opposite, his face hard and unreadable.

Brooke runs in first, throwing her arms around Jett’s neck. She kisses his cheek, then offers a small kiss to her grandfather. The sight makes my stomach twist.

“Good morning,” I say, my voice brittle.

Paul glances up briefly, his gaze flicking over me like I’m part of the furniture. Jett doesn’t look at me at all, which stings more than it should. I know why. He doesn’t want his father picking up onanything.

I pour juice for Brooke and help her with her plate, filling it with fruit and toast. I barely touch my coffee, the lump in my throat making it impossible to eat.

Jett stands abruptly, the scrape of his chair breaking the heavy silence. “Shall we go?” He’s looking at his father, not me.

Paul lowers his newspaper slowly, folding it with precision. “I thought I’d stay here for a while. Spend some time with Brooke.” He flashes a smile at her, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Then, almost as an afterthought, his gaze flicks to me. It lingers just long enough to make my skin prickle.

“We have work to do,” Jett says, his voice clipped.

Paul raises a brow. “Work? Suddenly you’re eager to get back to the office?”

Jett’s jaw flexes, the tension rolling off him in waves. “Don’t you want a proper update on Pinewood? Since you’re already here, you might as well.”

Paul smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Someone’s awfully motivated this morning.”

Brooke giggles as Paul reaches over and taps her nose, but I catch the look Jett shoots me—quick, almost imperceptible, but charged.Stay here. Stay safe.

I understand what he’s doing. He doesn’t want to spend time with his father, but more than that, he doesn’t want his father left alone with me. The thought makes my stomach churn.

Paul stands, folding his newspaper neatly. “Lead the way, then.”

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