TRINITY
An uncomfortable nightspent on the floor of my brothers’ bedroom in the Jones-Becker family suite is enough to give me some perspective.
The gray morning light filters through the thin curtains of my brothers’ room, casting everything in muted tones that match my mood. I stretch my aching back—sleeping on the floor wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it gave me the space I needed to think.
And think, I did. Pretty much all night long.
The embarrassment still burns hot in my chest when I remember Amelia’s announcement, the shocked faces around the ballroom, the way everyone stared at me like I was some pathetic fraud. Which, technically, I was. But lying here in the quiet dawn, listening to Miles and Theo softly breathe from the bunkbed next to my floor cot, I finally understand something that should have been obvious from the start.
I did this to myself.
The web of lies, the pretense, the careful orchestrationof avoiding the truth at every turn. That was me being a coward.
I was so desperate to hide how much Egret, Brendin, and Saren had hurt me when they walked away five years ago that I couldn’t even admit it to myself. The way they’d made me feel like I wasn’t omega enough, wasn’t soft enough, wasn’t what they needed. That carved something out of me I’ve been protecting ever since. I told myself I was fine, that I’d moved on, that their rejection had nothing to do with my choices.
But every time I saw how easily Josie fit into that traditional omega role, how naturally she deferred and yielded and made herself someone in need of protection, I felt that old wound tear open again. Not because I wanted to be like her—I love my independence, my career, my sharp edges—but because she got to have what I couldn’t. She got to be wanted exactly as she was.
So I hid. From them, from her, from my family. I built the walls so high that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.
Because what’s right in front of me is four incredible men who see me—really see me—and want me, anyway. Matheo, with his steady presence and gentle hands. Cash, with his brilliant mind and surprising vulnerability. Lucas, with his sunshine warmth and easy laughter. Kyren, with his sharp wit and hidden depths.
They’ve been trying to show me all week that this isn’t just business for them. The way Matheo looks at me is like I’m something precious. How Cash opens up so easily despite a hidden core of strength. The protective way Lucas hovers without making me feel suffocated. How Kyren finally stopped running and let me see his heart.
I’ve been so afraid of admitting how much I want them—really want them, not just for a week but for always—that I kept treating it like a transaction. Kept reminding myself it’s all temporary, that I paid them to be here, that no real relationship could get its start this way.
But you can’t fake the way Lucas’s eyes light up when I walk into a room. You can’t hire someone to make you feel as safe as I do in Matheo’s arms. A contract by itself can’t give the kind of understanding Cash provides me, or the raw honesty Kyren finally offered.
I sit up, my joints protesting, and look out the window at the resort grounds. Today is Josie’s wedding day. Her fresh start, her new beginning with the men who love her.
I can’t think of a more perfect metaphor for a new beginning than a wedding. She is about to embark on an entirely different life, a new and exciting path.
And maybe—if I’m brave enough to stop hiding—it could be mine, too.
I walk through the resort with new determination, my footsteps echoing against the marble pathways as I head back to our villa. Pre-dawn light filters through the palm trees, and sweat prickles on the back of my neck from the heat.
It doesn’t feel like rain is coming, but there is a subtle change in the scent of the air.
The whole world feels slightly tilted on its axis.
Or maybe that’s just me.
Today is the day I stop hiding. Today is the day I start telling the truth, to myself and everyone else.
I don’t want this to be fake anymore.
My heart pounds as I reach the villa door, my hand trembling slightly as I push it open. The words are already forming on my lips—how much they mean to me, how I want them to stay, how terrified I am of letting them go.
“Matheo? Cash? Lucas?” I call out, stepping into the living room. “Kyren?”
Silence greets me.
The suite feels hollow, empty in a way that makes my chest tighten.
There isn’t anyone here.
Of course, they left.
After my meltdown last night, after Amelia’s announcement, after everyone learned the truth about our arrangement—why would they stay? I humiliated them. Made them part of a spectacle they never signed up for.
