Page 76 of The Wrong Brother

“Oh, don’t I?” Brett asks, his tone mocking. “Jenny’s a sweet kid, sure. But let’s be real…she’s just a distraction. A pretty face with no business being part of this family.”

My vision blurs at the edges, the rage bubbling up faster than I can control it. “You don’t know a damn thing about her.”

“Don’t I?” he says again, his voice turning cruel. “Come on, Zack. She’s not one of us. She never will be. And if you’re throwing away everything we’ve worked for because you think I’ve got some future with her, someone not even worthy enough for us to wipe our shoes with then you’ve really lost it.”

I don’t even realize I’ve moved until my fist connects with his jaw. The sound echoes through the room, followed by the gasps of our parents and the stunned silence of the board. Brett stumbles back, clutching his face, but when he looks up, he’s grinning again, blood staining his teeth. I’m confused.

“What is wrong with you?”

“I knew it,” he says, his voice a mixture of pain and triumph. “I fucking knew it. Do you know, in all our years as brothers, you’ve never hit me before? And now suddenly, I insult Jenny, and you lose it. You have to see it now, don’t you? You can’t be this dense. You have to see that you’re in love with her.”

The words hit like a blow, harder than any punch I could throw. I freeze, my chest heaving, my heart pounding so loud I can barely hear anything else. He’s right. Goddamn it, he’s right.

Brett straightens, rubbing his jaw as he steps closer. “You’ve never lost control like this before,” he says, his tone softer now, almost understanding. “Not over the company. Not over money. Not over anything. But over her? You’re ready to throw it all away.”

I turn away, my hands trembling as I grip the back of the chair. The truth I’ve been running from is now laid bare for everyone to see, and there’s no taking it back.

“Look,” Brett says, his voice quieter now. “I’ve got a car and a chopper ready for you. If you leave now, you can still make it to the airport before she leaves.”

“What?” I’m shocked. “She’s leaving?”

“Right now,” he replies. “She moved her flight to this evening.”

I glance back at him, my eyes narrowing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m your brother,” he says simply. “And because for once, you’re not being an unfeeling robot. You actually care about something. Someone. And you’re too goddamn stupid to see it.”

The room is still silent, the board members too shocked to speak. My parents exchange glances, their expressions unreadable. But I don’t care about any of them anymore. All that matters is her.

Without another word, I stride toward the door, the weight in my chest lifting slightly with each step. I don’t know what I’ll say when I see her, but I know one thing for certain: I can’t let her leave. Not without a fight.

Chapter

Forty-Three

JENNY

The airport is a blur of movement and noise around me, but I’m disconnected from it all. My suitcase sits at my side, untouched, and I can’t even summon the strength to check in. My phone is off. I can’t face the messages I know are waiting for me, or worse, the silence if there’s nothing at all.

This is it. The end. And I’m doing everything I can to hold myself together, to keep my tears from spilling over. I know if I start crying, I won’t be able to stop.

I take a shaky breath, staring blankly at the departures board. My flight isn’t even listed yet, but it doesn’t matter. I just need to get away…to leave this place, this life, and everything that’s hurt me behind. I’ll never come back. Not to the Jackson Mansion, not to New York, not to him.

The ache in my chest feels unbearable, and I clutch the strap of my bag like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. I blinkhard, fighting back the sting of tears. I can’t fall apart here. Not here, where everyone can see.

“Jenny!”

The sound of my name, loud and urgent, cuts through the fog in my mind. My heart stutters, and I turn on instinct, my breath catching when I see him.

Zack.

He’s running toward me, his suit jacket slightly askew, his face flushed and frantic. For a moment, I’m frozen, unsure if this is real or some cruel trick of my imagination. But then he’s in front of me, breathless and wild-eyed, and I know it’s real.

“What are you doing here?” I manage to choke out, my voice trembling, barely audible over the pounding in my chest.

“I couldn’t let you leave,” he says, his words tumbling out in a rush, raw and desperate. “Not like this. Not without telling you…without asking you.”

I blink at him, my breath hitching as my heart hammers wildly. “Asking me what?”

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