Page 90 of F*ckboys

"Griffin Dunlop," she spits the name out as if it's poison on her tongue. "My ex-husband. He cheated on me, over and over again. But that's not why I'm here."

"Go on," I prompt, feeling Grave's gaze on me as I lean forward to hear her better.

"Recently, I found out he's been doing... horrible things. To children." Her voice trembles, but the fire in her eyes burns bright with wrath. "I tried getting the authorities involved, but he's incredibly powerful. A dangerous man. Part of what attracted me to him at first, if I'm honest. But things turned sour quickly, and danger is quite different when it turns on you." She shakes her head, a deep frown marring her otherwise stunning features. "He threatened me, my kids, anyone who would dare speak against him. He's paid off the cops, even a local judge, to keep his disgusting activities under wraps." She details names, places and specific situations.

The fury I feel at her revelations is like a red-hot iron searing my insides. Grave's hand brushes against mine in a silent but rare offer of support, but I barely register his touch as my mind churns with thoughts of vengeance. He knows crimes against children are a trigger point for me, as are wealthy families who pay off judges to forget their atrocities.

"Are you certain of this information?" Grave asks, his tone measured but hinting at the same rage I feel.

"Is there any evidence of his criminal activities?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The question hangs in the air like thick fog, threatening to suffocate us all.

Brynn's eyes dart around nervously before she answers. "There was, but he destroyed it. He's meticulous, careful." She clenches her fists, her knuckles turning white with the effort. "Without a doubt," she adds, her voice low and steady. "I saw it with my own eyes, and I wish to God I hadn't. I've tried everything, Fallon. Please, you have to help me."

The desperation in her voice shakes me to my core. It's as if she's clinging to a fragile thread of hope, and we're the only ones who can keep it from snapping completely.

"That's horrific and I'm so sorry. Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Brynn. We'll handle Griffin Dunlop," I promise, my voice cold and unwavering.

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, but her gratitude is evident. We've given her hope, something she clearly hasn't felt in a long time. And for that, we will deliver justice—swift, brutal, and merciless.

"Thank you," she breathes out, relief etched across her face.

With a nod, Brynn pushes herself to her feet, her designer heels clicking against the tattered linoleum floor. She smooths down her expensive dress, looking entirely out of place in the dingy diner. Her gaze lingers on Grave for a moment before settling back on mine.

"I'll be waiting for your call," she says, determination adding an edge to her voice.

"Expect to hear from me soon," I tell her, my own resolve echoing in my words. She offers a small, grateful smile before disappearing into the shadows beyond the diner's doors.

As the door swings shut behind her, I feel the weight of responsibility settle firmly on my shoulders. This isn't just about revenge anymore; it's about justice—for Brynn, her children, andthe countless others whose lives have been shattered by Griffin Dunlop's depravity.

"Let's get to work," I say, glancing at Grave. His eyes are dark, stormy pools, reflecting the same lethal intent that surges through my veins.

"Whatever it takes," he agrees, and I know we won't rest until Griffin Dunlop is nothing but a bitter memory, swallowed by the darkness he so richly deserves.

The air grows heavier as we're left with the gravity of Brynn's story, and my blood boils with every beat of my heart. I can't help but picture Griffin Dunlop's face, a smug grin plastered on it as he takes advantage of innocent lives. The thought of what he's done to those children makes my stomach churn, and I know one thing for certain—he has to pay.

"Grave," I say, struggling to hold back the rage in my voice, "I think we both know there's only one way to deal with someone like Dunlop. He needs to die."

Grave's eyes meet mine, his expression unreadable. "Fallon, I understand your anger, and I agree that what he's done is unforgivable. But are you absolutely certain that murder is the best course of action?" His voice is low and steady, betraying no emotion.

"Of course I'm sure," I spit out, my fists clenching at my sides. "What other choice do we have? This man is a monster, Grave. He deserves nothing less."

"Look, I get it. But murder, Fallon...it changes you." He hesitates, and I see something flicker in his eyes before he continues. "I've been down that path before. More than once. And each time, it leaves its mark on you. No matter how deserved it was."

Chapter 51

Fallon

The bustling hum of the office fades as Mia and I find a rare moment of privacy in my corner suite. I love this time of year, when a new cohort of interns joins the firm for a three-month stint. They're eager to learn and bursting with creativity, providing an injection of enthusiasm during their time here. There's definitely a lot more laughter around… and TikToking.

As invigorating as their presence is, it also means the office is a lot busier and therefore noisier than usual. The glass walls that typically offer transparency, now with blinds drawn, provide us with a cocoon away from prying eyes and eager ears.

I watch Mia hesitantly playing with her curls, her freckled face revealing the weight of unspoken words as she perches on the couch where clients usually download me with their traumaticstories. She takes a deep breath and finally spills the truth that's been gnawing at her.

"Fallon," Mia begins, her voice carrying the weight of a confession, "I need to tell you something." She pauses, looking conflicted about whether she can end the conversation and go sprinting out of my office or not. But then an expression of determination sets in and she blurts what's been bottled up inside: "I was offered another job, and I'm seriously considering taking it."

My heart skips a beat as I look at her with a mix of surprise and hurt. "Another job? Why would you even consider another offer—we've built this company together, Mia. You're not happy here now all of a sudden?" I question, trying to make sense of her revelation.

She doesn't immediately respond, and I search her face for answers. "Is it the pay, Mia? Because we can revisit that. And benefits are top-of-the-line, I don't think anyone could find better elsewhere." I frown as I try to consider what other impetus Mia might have to leave my side. "Or is it something else?"

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