Page 63 of F*ckboys

"Link, Fallon, don't you think it's time you two clear the air?" Cheston asks, glancing at me and then turning his attention to our brother. Link's jaw clenches, but he doesn't respond. The ticking of the grandfather clock behind him becomes deafening.

"Alright, then." I slam my hand down on the table, making the wine glasses shudder. "You want to talk about clearing the air? Fine. Link?" I glare at him, eyes flashing. "Let's start with you hiring a private investigator to snoop in my company's affairs."

Link's eyes narrow, dark and dangerous, while his lips twist into a cruel sneer. "And just what did you expect me to do, Fallon? Stand idly by while you destroy yourself and take this family down with you?"

"Destroy myself?" My voice trembles with rage. "My company is successful because I built it from the ground up!"

"By any means necessary, it seems." Link's gaze pierces right through me, and I feel the weight of the accusations he leaves unspoken. "And definitely not with the degree of transparency expected in a Dempsey-owned business."

I bristle at the accusation, my nails digging into the wooden frame. "You don't know anything about my business."

"Then enlighten me," he challenges, his gaze unyielding. "Tell me why you've been meeting with some very dangerous people. Tell me why I had to hire a private investigator to find out what kind of twisted game you're playing."

"Link, please…" Cheston pleads, his brown eyes imploring us for peace. But as much as I love my eldest brother, I can't back down now. Not when the truth is so close to the surface.

"Fine." I shrug. "You want the truth? My company is built on taking down those who abuse their power. Those who have hurt others and gotten away with it. People like our dear father."

"Except," Link bites out, pushing away from the table, "you're not just going after them legally, are you? You've crossed lines, Fallon. Dangerous lines."

"Let's play devil's advocate here… who cares how she gets justice as long as she gets it?" Cheston interjects, but his words are lost in the storm of emotions raging between Link and me.

"Because it could destroy her!" Link bellows, and for a moment, the room falls silent. "Do you think I wanted to pry into your affairs, Fallon? Do you think any of this brings me joy? I did it because I love you, and I can't stand to see you throw your life away like this!"

"Love?" I scoff, my voice trembling with a toxic mix of rage and betrayal. "You don't know the first thing about love or loyalty."

"Fallon, it sounds like he's just trying to protect you," Cheston pleads, his hands raised in a futile attempt to mediate.

"Protect me?!" I whirl on him, feeling my blood boil beneath my skin. "By spying on me? By undermining everything I've worked for? I don't need his protection! I don't need any of you!"

"Maybe if you'd been more open with us from the beginning, we wouldn't be here right now!" Link snaps, his anger mirroring my own.

"Enough!" Cheston's voice cuts through the tension, but it's too late. The damage is done; the Dempsey siblings are no longer united by blood, but divided by jealousy and deceit.

"Listen, Fallon. I don't like what you're doing or how you're going about it, but Cheston's right. I've had enough as well," Link snaps, his composure cracking. "We're family, whether you like it or not."

"Family?" My laugh is hollow, devoid of any warmth. "You have a twisted idea of what family means, brother." I place my wine glass down onto the coffee table and rise to my feet. "This conversation is over."

"Fallon, wait—" Cheston tries to reach out to me, but I'm already storming out of the room.

I turn to glare at both of my brothers, letting my fury fuel me. "If you want to side with him, Cheston, then do it. But remember this: I won't forget who stood beside me and who stabbed me in the back."

I slam my childhood bedroom door shut, the sound echoing through the hollow chambers of my heart. My breathing is ragged, my hands shaking, as I pace back and forth across the cold hardwood floor. The one room in the house where I've ever felt truly welcome. My own space.

"Fucking dickheads," I mutter under my breath, the words tasting like poison on my tongue. "My own brothers…"

Tears threaten to spill, but I refuse to give in. Instead, I ball my fists, nails digging into my palms, as I struggle to contain the maelstrom of emotions that churn within me.

"Fallon?" The soft, hesitant voice of Zara drifts through the door. "Can I come in?"

"Go away!" I snap, my throat raw from the effort of holding back tears. My stepmother is the last person I want to be talking to right now. But she doesn't listen. The doorknob turns slowly, and Zara steps into the room, her doe-like eyes filled with concern.

"Please, Fallon, talk to me." Her words are gentle, a balm for the wounds my brothers have inflicted.

"Didn't you hear me, Zara?" I hiss, my anger flaring once again. "I said go away!"

"Stop pushing everyone away, Fallon," she pleads, stepping closer. "We're all hurting in our own ways, not just you."

"Are you seriously defending them? After what they did?" I can't hide the disbelief in my voice.

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