Page 46 of The Sexy Ex's Brother
"Understood."
I hang up. Walk to the bedroom. The sheets are still unmade from the last time she was here. Her robe is gone. But there’s a single earring on the nightstand. Gold, delicate. Forgotten or left behind, I don’t know.
I pocket it. Then I pull out the safe in the closet and open the bottom drawer. Inside: a file with Derek’s name on it. I started it years ago, just in case. Everyone thought I was being paranoid. Maybe I was. But now? Now I know better.
Inside are old deals, loose ends, rumors I never chased because I didn’t want to believe they were real. I sit down on the edge of the bed and start flipping through them one by one. If there’s a thread here, I’ll pull it until the whole thing unravels. Ten minutes later, Leo calls.
"We have a lead. A burner account tied to one of Derek’s shell companies just moved a large sum. Offshore. Timestamp matches the day after Ivy left,” he says.
"Destination?"
"Unknown. But routed through Zurich."
"Get someone there,” I reply.
"Already done."
I close the drawer. Stand. Look in the mirror. There’s a shadow in my eyes I don’t recognize. Not rage. Not fear. Resolve. I grab my coat and walk out. Elevator ride down is quiet. Too quiet. The doorman gives me a nod. He doesn’t ask questions. He knows better. As I step onto the street, my phone buzzes again.
Leo.
“There’s chatter. Derek might be prepping a media hit, big enough to bury headlines and reset the narrative. I’ve started framing the counter-story: scholarships, clean audits, the nonprofit you and Ivy co-founded. But if he drops something personal, it could get messy fast.”
I pause. Cold air sharp in my lungs.
"Then it’s time we get louder."
I start walking, each step a decision. Every breath sharpened by purpose. I'm heading toward a war I didn’t start but will damn well finish. Toward her. Because losing Ivy isn’t an option I’m willing to live with. Not like this. Not ever.
I call Leo again, this time giving him names. Old allies. Former clients. People with influence. I want them briefed on Derek’s tactics. I want eyes everywhere, boardrooms, banks, PR firms. If he’s starting a war, I’m not just defending. I’m going on the offensive.
One by one, I hear the confirmation texts ping through. Leo’s fast. Efficient. Ruthless when he has to be.
Ari updates me again. Rosenthal’s location has narrowed to a private tech workspace in Brooklyn. Sienna’s name was used to book the initial consultation. Ivy’s trail is faint, but it’s there. I run a hand through my hair, exhale once, hard.
"Text me the address."
I’m already moving.
By the time I’m in the car, the city feels different. Faster. Tighter. Like something is about to snap. I tell the driver where to go, but I don’t stop there. I pull out my phone and leave a message with someone I swore I’d never call again.
“Vivian. It’s Jack. I need a favor. Big one. Call me.”
If anyone can navigate the undercurrent of Manhattan power games, it’s her.
The car glides down Park. My fingers twitch with anticipation. The note is still in my coat pocket. Folded like a bruise. And even though she asked me not to look for her… I’m going to find her. Even if I have to burn down every lie to do it.
Before I reach the bridge, I tell the driver to take a detour. I need a stop. There's someone I trust who might have already heard whispers, an old contact from my father's legal team, someone who left the game before it turned rotten. I don’tlike pulling him back in, but I need eyes on whatever Derek’s planning from the legal side. If he’s moving assets or scrubbing documents, I want to know.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m stepping into a paneled office tucked behind a private bank on the Upper East Side. It smells like old leather and older secrets. The man behind the desk, Conrad Whitman, doesn’t even blink.
"Thought you might come calling," he says. "What do you need?"
"Derek. Any legal transactions, dissolutions, trusts. I want a net under everything he’s touched. And I want it fast."
He nods. "You’ll have it in twenty-four. Sooner if it stinks."
I give a tight nod and turn back toward the door. Outside, the cold air slams into me like a promise. My jaw tightens. The city doesn’t slow, but I do, because wherever Ivy is, I’m getting closer.
