Page 75 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends
Parker doesn’t move. She’s not crying. Not smiling. Just waiting, like the weight of what she’s holding might pull her into the floor. She didn’t say it to manipulate us. She said it because she couldn’t carry it alone anymore.
“We don’t have to decide anything tonight,” Harrison says, voice low and even.
“Right,” Gavin adds, eyes flicking toward the curtained lounge entrance. “Let’s keep this contained.”
Parker nods. “I’m not making any decisions yet. I’m still processing. I don’t even know which of you is the father…how could I?”
I step toward her, hands open. “You’re not alone.”
She finally looks at me. God, her eyes. Brighter now, but rimmed with something tight—fear, maybe. Uncertainty. But she lets me touch her hand, lets me squeeze once before I let go.
The moment holds. Then cracks. Because something thuds behind the coatroom curtain. All of us turn at once.
The room was empty when we came in. The lounge isn’t public. No staff. No guests. Just us. Gavin moves first. He crosses the carpet in three long strides and pulls the curtain back.
Vanessa.
Of course it’s Vanessa.
She steps out with her hand raised casually, like she’s just adjusting her dress. But she’s too smooth. Too composed. The kind of smug calm that means one thing. She got something. “Sorry,” she says, smiling directly at Gavin. “Didn’t realize this room was booked.”
No one says a word. Not until Gavin lifts his chin and says, “What did you hear?”
Vanessa blinks innocently. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb.”
“I would never.” Her voice is honey-glazed venom. Polite for sport. She tucks her phone into her clutch with a move just exaggerated enough to be noticed.
Parker goes rigid beside me.
Vanessa turns her full attention to her now. “Congratulations, by the way. I’m sure your bastard child will be such a delight for Vivian to disinherit.”
The air in the room changes. Electric. Sharp.
Gavin steps forward. “Give me your phone.”
She laughs. “Oh, darling. No.”
“This isn’t a game, Vanessa.”
“It never is with you, is it?” Her voice lifts slightly, playful and cruel. “But lucky for me, your mother loves a scandal—especially when she’s already the victim.”
“Give me the phone,” he growls.
She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she turns on her heel like she’s heading for the door.
That’s when Parker moves. In a blink, she’s there—standing between Vanessa and the exit, hand braced against the gold-plated handle. “If you want to leave this room,” Parker says, voice like steel wrapped in silk, “you’re giving up the phone.”
Vanessa raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
Parker smiles. “Try me.”
I step forward, but slowly—hands up, trying not to escalate this. Because if Parker hits her, this becomes something we can’t unspin.
“Parker,” I say. “Let’s not do this here.”
“She recorded me, Jack.”
