bChapter /b114: bLa /bbPOV /b

    I slip out of Hunter’s room with my heart still pounding and my thighs still trembling with the tremors of interrupted desire.

    b55 /b

    The hallway is empty as I duck into my room, pulling the door shut behind me before leaning against it for a second to collect myself. My cheeks are flushed, my hair is a mess, and my oversized hoodie is hanging dangerously off one shoulder.

    Yeah. No way I’m answering the door in this disheveled state.

    I grab a clean pair of jean shorts and an oversized blue nnel shirt that somehow ended up in my drawer. I’m not sure whose it is yet, but I’m positive whoever gives me the cockiest smile when they see me in it, will be the culprit.

    I shuffle into the bathroom to brush my teeth and ssh cold water on my face. My reflection in the mirror looks like someone who just survived a perfect dream. Or maybe like someone who’s about five seconds from dragging Hunter, or Cade, or both, back into bed.

    Still, I pull myself together.

    When I step into the hallway again a few minutester, respectively dressed and my hairbed into a messy ponytail, AJ’s already waiting at the top of the stairs like he knew I’d be there.

    “Morning, Cupcake,” he says, and before I can answer him, he leans down and kisses me. It’s seductively slow, heartwarmingly sweet, and just a tad smug. When he pulls back after a few seconds, he asks in a low tone, “Sleep well?”

    “Define sleep,” I murmur, nudging him in the ribs with my elbow as I pass him.

    Heughs and follows me down the stairs, his hand brushing mine on the way down. The house smells like coffee and toast and something vaguely cinnamon–y that’s probably Cade’s doing. It’s warm in a way that feels lived–in and safe.

    As soon as I clear thest step, I spot the courier standing in the entryway, holding a padded white envelope in both hands like it’s precious cargo. Cade’s leaning against the back of the couch a few feet away from him, barefoot and unbothered in dark green nnel pants and a white tee, sipping his coffee with a raised brow.

    Hunter’s in the kitchen, his one hip resting against the counter while he stares into a mug like he’s thinking about destroying the universe one caffeinated sip at a time. Xavier is pacing slowly near the

    Chapter 114: La POV

    ind, scrolling on his phone with a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

    “La Kincaid?” the courier asks when he spots me.

    “That’s me,” I answer with a friendly smile as I close the gap between us.

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    He takes one step forward and hands me the envelope, along with a clipboard and pen, as he says, “I need your signature, please. And just a heads up–this was marked urgent.”

    His tone is polite, but there’s something in the way he says it that makes me pause as apprehension slithers down my spine. Still, though, I sign the letter of acknowledgment with a quick flourish, thank him kindly, and then shut the front door behind him with a soft click.

    “Urgent?” Cade echoes from where he’s sauntered over to the dining table, lifting a brow in

    curiosity.

    “Maybe it’s a chocte emergency,” I say, trying to y it off, already walking past him towards the kitchen. “Either that, or someone finally agreed to publish my tragic poetry.”

    Hunter snorts as he stirs creamer into a freshly poured mug of coffee. “I wasn’t aware you wrote

    poetry, Beautiful.”

    “Only when I’m emotionally unstable.” I deadpan.

    “Well,” Xavier drawls as he slides his phone into his pocket and, with a cheeky grin on his face, says, “then you’ve probably got an anthology or two ready to go.”

    “Rude much?” I ask him, feigning outrageb, /bcausing him to chuckle.

    AJ slips in behind me, his one handnding on my hip, as the other reaches for the coffee pot. “You

    want a cup?”

    “Mm–hmm,” I hum in assent distractedly, already pulling the envelope’s sealed tab open as I settle

    onto one of the stools at the kitchen ind.

    The paper inside slides out in one smooth motion. It’s thick, cream–colored, and far too official- looking for this early in the morning. I unfold it absently, smiling to myself as I hear Cade try to convince AJ that cream cheese on toast is superior to peanut butter.

    But the second I read the headline at the top of the page, everything else blurs around me.

    Chapter 114: La POV

    :

    **Notice of Intent to Pursue Legal Action: Inheritance and Property Dispute Kincaid Estate **

    **intiff: Allison Reed (previously Kincaid)

    **

    –

    **Defendant: La Kincaid **

    The air around me shifts and then tilts on its proverbial axis.

    Theughter in the room fades in my ears like it’s been pulled through cotton. The clink of mugs, the casual chatter, and the teasing voices dull into white noise.

    I reread the heading. Then again.

    Below it, bolded in unforgiving legal font, the first lines cut through my chest like ss:

    *** RE: Petition for Partition and Order of Sale ***

    * Filed on behalf of Allison Reed (previously Kincaid) (intiff) vs. La Kincaid (Defendant)

    *

    *

    Superior Court of Saxonridge County, Case No. 2025-0493–FD *

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    * This action seeks the legal partition and court–mandated sale of the shared property located at 47

    Ridgeway Drive, Cedarbrook, Saxonridge County, due to the Defendant’s refusal to execute the

    necessary conveyance documents in a timely and cooperative manner. *

    * The intiff petitions for full authority to sell said property and divide proceeds ordingly,

    citing obstruction and unreasonable dy by the Defendant. *

    My fingers tighten around the paper, and I try to blink, but the words stay burned behind my eyes.

    Obstruction. Unreasonable dy. Defendant.

    That’s what I’ve been reduced to, and by my own fucking mother.

    “La?i” /i

    Hunter’s voice is the first to break through, and I don’t know what gives me away–the way I suddenly stopped breathing, the color draining from my face, or the fact that my hand is now shaking slightly where it rests against the countertop.

    He steps forward, his brows pulling into a severe frown, and the joking edge gone from his voice

    …

    Chapter 114: La POV

    entirely. “What’s wrong?”

    I look up slowly, the document still open in my hands, and meet four sets of eyes that are now

    trained solely on me, each of them standing a little straighter, their smiles gone, with every protective instinct they have suddenly kicking into overdrive.

    I open my mouth to speak. But the words don’te.

    They can’t.

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