Page 105 of F*ckboys

"Nothing concrete yet, but we're getting closer," she assures me, a fire burning behind her eyes. My sister is relentless, just like me. And she’s hot on the trail of Kent and Isabella. While my older sister has largely extracted herself from the day-to-day runnings of King Enterprises, preferring to focus on more artistic pursuits, she's whip-smart with investigative skills and is happy to come on board for high-risk, discreet projects where we prefer not to get external parties involved. This is definitely one of those cases. So far, she's been researching the shit out of Kent and Isabella in order to try and figure out their exact plan to take the company down.

"Good. They won't know what hit them," I respond, clenching my free hand into a fist. The sandwich satisfies my hunger, but it can't quell the rage simmering beneath the surface. The thought of two people inserting themselves in power positions within our family company, with the primary goal of taking it down from the inside, blows my mind and makes me intensely uncomfortable. And very, very angry.

"Remember, Aksel," Raine warns as she places a hand on my arm and squeezes, her voice softer now. "We're doing this for justice, not just revenge."

I nod, chewing thoughtfully. Her words echo in my mind, mingling with the taste of my favorite sandwich. It's a potent cocktail of wisdom and sustenance, fueling my resolve as I prepare for the battle ahead.

"Justice is what's driving me here, and of course protecting our family name," I insist, swallowing the last bite of my sandwich. "But a little bit of personal satisfaction doesn't hurt either. They’ll pay for what they did to us.”

"Agreed." She gives me a knowing smile, and I feel the bond between us strengthen. I often feel like we're two sides ofthe same coin, having both grown up with a sense of familial responsibility throughout our lives that extends far beyond being a sibling and is much more like being a parent. “Just don't let your anger consume you," she cautions, swallowing the last morsel of her sandwich.

I nod, absorbing her wisdom as I watch her dog chase after a butterfly, its innocent joy momentarily distracting me from the heavy weight of our mission. A sudden gust of wind sends a shiver down my spine, and I'm reminded of how quickly things can change.

"Come on, let's get back to work," I say, standing up and brushing crumbs off my shirt. Raine nods, Alfie following at her heels. "Thanks again for lunch. I feel like I'm going to have a productive afternoon now that I'm no longer hangry."

"Right behind you," she replies, standing up and brushing crumbs off her lap and following my lead.

As we walk away from the riverside bench, the taste of my favorite sandwich still lingers on my tongue, a reminder of Raine's unwavering support. And with her by my side, I know we'll achieve the justice we seek. Together, we'll make those who wronged us pay. As I walk alongside Raine, I'm reminded that our bond is stronger than any darkness that threatens to engulf us. And as the sun casts its warm rays upon us, I'm reminded that even in the darkest moments, there is light.

Chapter 59

Fallon

The scent of freshly roasted coffee beans assaults my senses as I push open the door of Flicking the Bean Cafe. What kind of name is that for a coffee shop? I smirk at the neon sign that simulates, well… a coffee bean being flicked, of course.

A burst of laughter escapes my lips before I can stifle it. The warmth of the cafe seeps into my skin, a welcome respite from the biting wind outside.

A blonde in an oversized sweater glances up from her book and offers a hesitant smile. Wren.

I take a deep breath and head to her table, hyperaware of the tremor in my hands. What am I doing here?

“Fallon, hi.” Wren stands, knocking over the contents of her paper cup. Coffee streams across the table. “Shit, I’m so clumsy. Let me clean this up.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I grab a wad of napkins from the nearby condiment stand and help mop up the mess. “So this is the place, huh?” I glance at her combat boots with boot socks that stick out over the top. "I love your footwear, by the way! Perfect for this weather and so cute!"

Wren flushes, still embarrassed from the spill, avoiding my gaze. “Thanks, they're new. And yeah, Bronson and I spent a lot of time here in the early days of our relationship. I guess the name has sentimental value.”

“Nothing like a smutty pun to set the mood.” I arch a brow, waiting to see how she’ll respond.

After a beat of silence, Wren bursts into laughter. “You got me there.” She shakes her head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind one ear, suddenly looking like a huge weight has been lifted off her chest. I guess she's remembered I don't bite. “I’m glad you suggested meeting. It’s nice to finally connect outside of formal family time.”

The tension in my shoulders eases. Maybe this won’t be as awkward as I feared. She was nice enough when I met her with my brother, but one-on-one time with someone you barely know always creates a unique type of pressure to carry a conversation.

I settle into a chair across from Wren, the aroma of fresh coffee permeating the space between us. “The coffee here better be as good as the name implies.”

“One sip and you’ll be hooked.” Wren’s lips quirk into a smile as she waves over a barista who quickly returns with two fresh mugs of their famous house coffee. The scent of possibility lingers, as rich as the dark roast in my cup. I take a sip, savoring the bold flavor on my tongue.

Maybe Wren’s right. Maybe I will get hooked.

Over steaming cups, Wren shares anecdotes about her own journey with Bronson.

“Bronson was so nervous when he asked me out for the first time. He spilled his coffee all over the table, then tripped over his own feet on the way to grab napkins.” Wren’s eyes soften at the memory. “But his awkwardness was endearing. Underneath it all, I could see how much heart he had.”

I trace my finger along the rim of my cup, warmth blooming in my chest. Wren’s story hits closer to home than I care to admit.

“Aksel was nervous too, when we first got together. He—” I clamp my lips shut, unsure of how much to reveal.

Wren’s gaze is knowing. “You can talk to me, you know. I understand what it’s like to care for someone who’s been through hell. Although I have a feeling you've been through your own version of hell. Maybe you're still in it?”

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