Page 95 of Fallen Empire
In that moment, something inside me settled.
Because whatever this was between them—whatever I’d doubted or questioned or tried to rationalize—it was real.
Jaxson would help me if I needed it, sure.
But for her? He’d burn the whole damn world down. The love in his eyes wasn’t loud or poetic. It wasn’t wrapped in grand gestures or hollow promises.
It was in the way he leaned in when she breathed. In the way he remembered how she liked her water—no ice. In the wayhe made her feel like the center of a universe that had spent far too long spinning without her.
And somehow, I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t bitter.
I was just… grateful.
Because she’d survived hell. Because not only did she have me, for the rest of her damn life, she had someone who’d never let her walk through fire alone again.
Not now. Not ever.
Chapter 21
Jaxson
Millie wasn’t my sister by blood.
But she was the closest damn thing I had to one. And while Ben might have also been the closest thing I had to a brother, if he hurt her? I’d rip him apart without blinking.
No questions. No warnings. No loyalty strong enough to hold me back.
I saw the way he looked at her. Like she was the only thing in the room that mattered. I saw the way his hands curled into fists when she laughed too hard, like he was holding back something he didn’t think he deserved to feel.
But I also saw the silence. The way he pulled away after. The walls going back up the second she leaned too close.
He’s either all in or he’s not. And if he leaves her bleeding in the middle of all this, I’ll bury the man I once called family without a second thought.
Because Millie doesn’t break easy.
But when she does… it’s permanent.
When I came back from my last deployment—if that’s even what you’d call it anymore, considering it was part military, part ghost work—I noticed a change in her.
Millie had always been strong. She didn’t know how to be anything else.
She was raised in a house where appearances mattered more than truth. Her father made his fortune protecting other people’s reputations. High-profile, high-dollar clients willing to pay anything to keep their secrets buried. The irony? The man who built a legacy cleaning up messes couldn’t see the one rotting inside his own walls.
Her mother was proof that money could, in fact, buy happiness. At least by her definition. New handbags, new men,anything to keep the attention on herself. And her father? He still defended her. Spun stories. Covered the cracks like reputation was worth more than reality.
Millie was the one left behind. Balancing ledgers. Managing clients. Keeping the company alive while her father chased headlines and her mother chased chaos.
The first few weeks I’d returned, I saw it in her. That something had shifted. The sparkle in her sarcasm was duller. Her smile didn’t reach the way it used to. It felt like it was more than just the work.
She looked tired. And not the kind of tired you sleep off.
It was the kind of tired that lives in your bones. The kind that whispers you’re on your own, even when the room’s full. I wanted to believe it was all about the job, but something deep inside me felt like there was so much she wasn’t saying.
I never told her I knew about the fallout. I just kept her close. Watched her back.
Because I made a promise. First to her father. Later, to Savannah’s mother too. Different conversations, but the same request. Watch over their daughters. Keep them safe. And now that Savannah still had blood running through her veins, I could say I kept those promises.
But lately... I’m starting to wonder if watching is enough anymore.
