Page 73 of F*ckboys

Chapter 40

Aksel

The dim light casts shadows on the bedroom walls, creating a sinister ambiance. I watch as Fallon paces back and forth, her eyes ablaze with fury, her fists tightly clenched. My heart aches at the sight of her–this bitter, vengeful woman who's replaced the sweet, caring girl I once knew.

"Those bastards won't get away with it," she spits, her voice filled with venom. "I'll make sure they pay for what they've done."

I can't help but feel a pang of guilt for my part in driving her to this dark place. Though I know we both share the blame for the events that have transpired, I can't shake the feeling that I should have done more to protect her.

"Fallon," I say, my voice barely audible above the storm raging inside me. "We need to talk."

She stops pacing, her gaze locking onto mine. The fire in her eyes is momentarily replaced by confusion, but she says nothing, waiting for me to continue.

"Look at what's happening to us, Fallon," I plead, trying to keep my own anger in check as I confront the changing dynamics within our relationship. "We're not the people we used to be. This obsession with revenge... it's tearing us apart."

"Maybe it's the only thing keeping me together," she snaps, her jaw set in a hard line.

"Is that really what you believe?" I ask, desperately trying to reach her. "Or are you just afraid of facing the pain and moving on?"

"Fuck you, Aksel," she hisses, turning away from me. "You have no idea what I've been through."

"Neither do you," I retort, my frustration rising to the surface. "We've both suffered, Fallon. We've both lost something. But this... this isn't the way to heal. We can't keep letting our anger and our need for vengeance control us."

"Maybe you're right," she concedes, her voice barely a whisper. "But I don't know how to let it go."

"Neither do I," I confess, the weight of my own emotions threatening to crush me. "But we can try, Fallon. We can try to find a way through this darkness together."

"Can we really?" she questions, tears brimming in her eyes as she finally turns back to face me.

"I hope so," I say softly, reaching out to take her hand in mine. "Because I can't bear to lose you, Fallon Dempsey. Not like this."

The room is silent as we stand there, holding onto each other amidst the chaos consuming us both. But for now, at least, we dare to believe that maybe–just maybe–we have a chance tosave not only ourselves but whatever's left of the love that once bound us together.

I wake with a start and realize I was dreaming. Of course I'd be dreaming of Fallon, that's no surprise. But despite only spending limited time with her lately, I feel inextricably connected. Like she is part of my soul. But I still don't know if I can trust her and this new edge to her. I know she blames me for things left unsaid. I still don't know what I can do to fix it. All I know is awake or asleep, I can't get her off my mind.

The dim glow of a single lamp casts long shadows across my study as I sit in contemplation. The room, adorned with shelves and walls of souvenirs collected from my travels, mostly old books and artwork, feels both comforting and stifling. My mind is heavy with the weight of uncertainty that hangs in the air.

I lean back in my worn leather chair, fingers steepled in front of me. My gaze fixes on the lamp's flickering bulb, lost in thought. The room is silent, except for the distant hum of a computer's processor. Outside, a faint drizzle begins to tap against the windowpane, mirroring my inner turmoil.

The brewing situation with Kent Farrington and Isabella Warner gnaws at me, like an insidious undercurrent threatening to pull me into treacherous waters. Espionage—a word that once felt alien in my family's tight and impenetrable circle, now whispers through the corridors of my thoughts. My mind, sharp as a dagger in most circumstances, works tirelessly to piece together the puzzle of deceit and hidden motives. We're so careful about who we hire. We do such thorough due diligence. How could we—I—have missed something so obvious, and let the enemy in so close?

All I know is I'm experiencing an increasing inability to trust those around me. My eyes, normally clear and perceptive, nowbear a shadow of doubt. I'm not sure who is an ally, a pawn, or my downright enemy.

The rain outside intensifies, tapping on the window with a relentless urgency. I, however, remain still—immersed in the intricate dance of shadows playing on the walls. It's like a chess game, but I don't know who I'm playing against.

Closing my eyes as the rain continues to drum against the window, I take a deep breath, bracing myself for the challenges that lie ahead.

Chapter 41

Fallon

Istep out of the Uber, smooth my dress, and stare up at the imposing Dempsey mansion. My stomach twists into familiar knots. I'd normally have driven here, but the thought of getting through tonight without whiskey or copious amounts of wine is too much to bear. Another week, another mandatory family dinner designed to shred my nerves.

I take a deep breath and climb the steps, bracing for impact. The shadows in my soul stretch longer each day, darkening my ties to this family. While I always felt like an outsider, this place still felt like a semi-friendly port in the storm for me, but no more. That ship has sailed, leaving roiling, choppy waves in its wake.

My heels click on the marble as I enter the grand foyer. Zara's piercing gaze slices into me. Before I can blink, she's sinking her claws in.

"That dress is far too revealing, Fallon. Have some modesty."

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