~ Alex POV ~The elevator doors slide open with their familiar whisper, and I step into the penthouse foyer where Mom is arranging white orchids in a crystal vase. Her movements are precise, practiced, the kind of ritual she uses to center herself when the world gets messy."Alex." She doesn't look up, but there's something lighter in her voice today. Something I haven't heard in weeks. "How did it go at the gallery?"I loosen my tie, letting the silk slip through my fingers. "Nora was there. Packing Isabella's things.""Good." Mom sets down the orchid she's holding and finally meets my eyes. There's no sympathy there, no maternal concern about my broken heart. Instead, there's something that looks almost like... relief. "It's time."The bluntness catches me off guard. I expected questions, maybe gentle probing about how I'm handling Isabella's departure. Not this calm acceptance that borders on satisfaction."Mom...""Where's Austin?" She moves to the window, her silk dress catching
~ Nora POV ~I shove Isabella's sketchbooks into the cardboard box with more force than necessary, the sharp corner catching my thumb. Blood wells up, bright and immediate, but I don't stop packing. Can't stop. If I stop moving, I might actually scream at the pristine walls of this gallery office that's become Isabella's prison.The afternoon light slants through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in that golden glow that makes rich people think their lives are touched by magic. But all I see are shadows. All I smell is expensive perfume lingering in the air from some client meeting, mixed with the chemical tang of fresh paint and the bitter scent of Isabella's barely touched coffee growing cold on her desk.Another sketchbook goes into the box. Then another. Each one filled with her dreams, her vision, her talent that these people have been using like a pretty ornament for their empire.The door opens behind me, and I don't need to turn around to know who it is. The air
**Alex POV**The elevator ride down feels like the longest forty-seven floors of my life.Austin's standing next to me, hands shoved deep in his pockets, staring at the digital display like it holds the secrets of the universe. Neither of us has said a word since we left Isabella's apartment. What is there to say? We just broke the heart of the woman we both love, and we did it together.The irony isn't lost on me. It took losing her to find each other again."You think we did the right thing?" Austin's voice is quiet, almost lost in the hum of the elevator.I don't answer right away. The right thing. Such a simple concept, but nothing about this situation has been simple. "I think we did the only thing.""That's not the same thing.""No. It's not."The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to reveal the marble lobby of Isabella's building. A few photographers are still camped outside, their cameras ready to capture any sign of scandal. They perk up when they see us, but I keep my
They're gone.The apartment feels hollow without them, like all the air got sucked out when they closed the door behind them. I'm still sitting in the same chair, staring at the spot on the couch where they sat together. United. Brothers again.My phone buzzes on the coffee table. A text from Austin: *Take care of yourself, Bella. We meant what we said about helping with whatever you need.*Then another from Alex: *You're stronger than you know. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.*I set the phone aside without responding. What do you say to that? Thank you for breaking my heart so gently? Thank you for making the choice I couldn't?The Italian food they brought is still sitting on my kitchen counter, getting cold. The smell of garlic and basil should be comforting, but it just reminds me of everything I'm losing.I walk to the window and press my forehead against the cool glass. New York stretches out below me, millions of lights twinkling like stars. Somewhere out there, Alex and A
I do, and what I see in his eyes makes my chest tight. There's love there, yes, but also something else. Something that looks like... goodbye."We love you," he says, and Alex nods. "Both of us. More than we ever thought possible.""But?" I whisper, because I can hear it coming."But we love each other too," Alex says. "We're brothers. We're family. And we can't keep doing this."The room starts spinning. I sink back into my chair, my legs suddenly unable to hold me up. "What are you saying?""We're saying that this has to stop," Austin says gently. "The competition, the rivalry, the... triangle. It's killing all of us.""I know." The words come out as a whisper. "I know it is. I've been trying to figure out how to...""How to choose," Alex finishes. "We know. And we're not going to make you.""We're choosing for you," Austin adds. "We're choosing each other."The words hang in the air between us like a blade. I can hear my own heartbeat, can feel the blood rushing in my ears. This is
~ Isabella POV ~The coffee in my hands has gone cold, but I can't stop gripping the mug. My knuckles are white against the ceramic, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to shatter it if I hold on any tighter. But letting go feels impossible right now. Everything feels impossible.Three days. It's been three days since Madeline's article hit the internet, and I still feel like I'm drowning. The headlines flash behind my eyelids every time I blink: "Gallery Curator's Criminal Father Threatens Walton Empire." "Art World Scandal: Isabella Moretti's Family Secrets Exposed." "Billionaire Twins Caught in Love Triangle with Troubled Curator."My phone buzzes against the coffee table, and I flinch. Another reporter, probably. Or maybe someone from the gallery world, calling to tell me I'm persona non grata. I've stopped answering calls I don't recognize."Isabella." Nora's voice cuts through the fog in my head. She's been camping out in my apartment since the story broke, bringing me food I don't ea