Chapter 173: Double standard

By the time I step into the kitchen, my thumb has already fired off a terse, ‘WTF did you do?!’ text to Bastian.

Is there a microscopic chance he had absolutely nothing to do with this and I’m throwing false accusations at him? Sure. But the odds are practically non-existent. There are boundaries, and then there’s whatever line Bastian just casually bulldozed through, especially doing it behind my back.

I slam my phone screen-down on the counter and yank open the fridge, grabbing two bottles of cold water. I toss one toward Dante, who catches it effortlessly with one hand without taking his eyes off me.

My skin feels prickly, invaded. When I brought up Aaron to Bastian, it was in vague, brief sentences. A quick summary of a bad ex, nothing more. That was intentional. So for Aaron to show up on my doorstep, beaten half to death and practically sobbing to hand over my cash, means Bastian actively hunted down my past. I know he’s done background checks before, he never even bothered to deny it, but this feels different. I can't quite put my finger on why, but it hits a dangerous nerve.

Once the silence has stretched uncomfortably, Dante twists the cap off his water, taking a long drink before leaning his heavy frame against the island. "So. Are you gonna explain what that circus was about?"

"I’d really rather not," I mutter, unscrewing my own bottle.

"Kaden," Dante says, his voice dropping into a stern, unyielding register that means he isn't dropping it. I look up at him, let out a frustrated sigh, and quickly avert my eyes. Before the silence can stretch any further, the front door clicks open down the hall. A second later, the sharp click of heels echoes down the floorboards.

Josie struts into the kitchen looking like she just stepped off a runway, oversized sunglasses perched on her head, layered vintage textures, and dramatic tailoring.

"I just told the cashier that if they don't restock the heavyweight linen by Friday, their entire autumn display is gonna look completely uninspired," she rambles animatedly, tossing two overstuffed paper bags onto the island.

She glides straight over to Dante, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into his chest. He instinctively wraps his arm around her shoulders, but his gaze remains locked on me. Josie keeps chatting for another three seconds until her voice slowly trails off.

She glances between Dante’s stone-hard jaw and my folded arms, her brow furrowing. "Okay, what did I just walk into?"

I let out another quiet sigh, already spotting the sheer, shameless eagerness on Dante’s face to vent.

"Aaron was just here," he says casually, casually tossing me straight under the bus without a second of hesitation. "On his knees. Crying, bleeding, and handing Kaden a fat stack of cash."

Josie steps away from him, her heels clicking sharply against the floor as she closes the distance between us. "Is that true?" she asks, her eyes locked on mine.

I let out a heavy sigh, running a palm up over my face and down the back of my neck. I would have preferred to take the whole humiliating secret to my grave, but... friendship, transparency, and all that inconvenient stuff.

"Yeah," I pull my hand away, deciding to just lay it out. I try to distill the entire story into as few words as humanly possible, stripped down to the bare facts. I try to scrub every trace of anger from my expression and tone as I recount it, but I fail spectacularly. My voice tightens into a jagged edge, my jaw clenching involuntarily with every sentence.

By the time I finish, both of them are just staring at me in total, gobsmacked silence.

"Kaden..." Josie’s voice drops into a soft, aching tone, her eyes wide and brimming with concern. "Why didn't you tell us when it happened?"

I swallow hard, my gaze dropping to the granite counter. I could make up a noble excuse, but I opt for the ugly truth instead. "Because I was embarrassed," I admit softly. "I felt like a complete naive idiot. Like I’d been walking around with ‘sucker’ stamped across my forehead."

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," Josie says instantly, taking another step forward. "He took advantage of you. We could've helped you out, Kaden! We would've done something."

I look up, giving her the smallest, faintest smile. I know they would have. Josie especially, she would’ve pawned her handmade wardrobe or hired a literal bounty hunter to track the bastard down through the state lines.

"I know," I nod quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't."

Dante twists the cap back onto his water bottle, his brow furrowed as he chews on the story. "So why the sudden change of heart today? Why show up acting like some born-again martyr?" He shakes his head, tossing a hand toward the door. "And why did he look like he’d been dragged backwards through a meat grinder?"

My gaze flicks reflexively toward my phone, still resting screen-down on the island. I glance back up at the two of them. Maybe because I need to vocalize the thought to prove to myself how unhinged it actually sounds, or maybe because the weight of keeping secrets from my own people is starting to wear on me, I hesitate for a beat before taking the plunge.

"I think Bastian's behind it," I say flatly.

Josie blinks. "Behind what?"

"Aaron paying me back," I explain, rubbing my temples. "And... probably the fact that he looks like he was used as a punching bag."

I brace myself. I fully expect the immediate lecture. The deep sighs, the warning looks, the speech about how Bastian is dangerous, unhinged, and how I need to put a ten-foot wall between us right now.

Instead, a startled, half-amused laugh bursts out of Josie.

"Okay, see?" she says casually, waving a hand. "If that's true, I’m actually starting to like the guy."

I blink, completely thrown off. "You don't think he's, like... totally crazy for doing that?"

"Oh, he's definitely crazy," she counters without missing a beat. "One look at the man and you can just tell he's operating on a wavelength of sociopathy. But as long as he's weaponizing that crazy to take care of you? I’m not complaining." Her expression shifts, her eyes sharpening with a fierce, protective steel. "The real issue comes if he ever decides to turn that craziness on you, or put you in any kind of danger. That's when my claws come out."

"Mine too," Dante throws in from the side, his voice dead serious.

A tiny smile finally breaks through my irritation. Josie steps in, pulling me into a quick, fierce hug, pressing her cheek against mine before letting go.

As she turns back toward her bags, I lean back against the counter, staring down at my hands. Part of me wonders if I should be less furious with Bastian. If I should soften up, knowing the whole insane gesture came from a place of genuine care.

But there’s a persistent, uneasy knot sitting heavy in my chest. Bastian operates like boundaries simply don't apply to him. He digs, he unearths, he fixes things by force without ever asking permission, all while keeping his own life locked behind iron gates. And no matter how good it feels to have someone fight in my corner, I don't know if I can ever truly be okay with that kind of double standard.

I grab my phone off the counter, letting out a short breath. "I’m gonna go take a shower."

"The campaign ads are still dropping today, right?" Josie asks, already digging through one of her paper bags to pull out a bolt of fabric.

"Yeah," I say over my shoulder. "They said today."

I head down the hallway toward my bedroom. Halfway there, my phone buzzes, vibrating hard against my palm. I lift the screen...it’s Bastian. I freeze for a split second, staring at his name, before I press the phone to my ear and keep walking.

I don't even wait for him to greet me.

"You shouldn't have done that," I say, my voice clipped.

"If you're referring to that spineless parasite who thought he could steal from you with zero consequence," Bastian's voice comes through the speaker, smooth and entirely devoid of remorse, "then I beg to differ. I absolutely should have, and I'm immensely relieved that I did."

I shake my head, twisting my bedroom door handle and stepping inside. I push the door shut behind me, crossing the hardwood floor straight toward my bed.

"I know this is your first real relationship, so maybe you're unfamiliar with the basic dos and don'ts," I say, sitting down heavily on the edge of the mattress, my frustration mounting. "But you can't just run black-ops investigations into my past and send muscle after people behind my back—"

"I'm sorry I went behind your back," he cuts in smoothly, stepping right over my words before I can finish. "Truly. But I don't regret the outcome for a single second."

I arch an eyebrow, my jaw clenching. I open my mouth to chew him out, to demand to know where he gets off deciding what's best for me—

"While we're on the subject," he continues, his tone shifting...losing its smug edge and dropping into something cold and terrifyingly pragmatic, "we need to discuss getting your sister out of that house as soon as possible. I'm thinking within the next couple of hours."

The room goes dead quiet.

My heart snaps violently into my throat, slamming against my ribs so hard it leaves me breathless. The air in my lungs vanishes. Slowly, I push myself up off the bed, a sudden wave of dizziness sweeping through my head as the floor feels like it’s tilting beneath my feet.

"Why?" I choke out, my hand trembling as I grip the phone tightly against my ear. "What're you talking about?"