Rea knew this was a bad idea.
Walking straight into Jaxon Westwood's territory felt like stepping onto a battlefield without knowing who the enemy was. But she also knew there was no other way.
She needed answers.
Aster led the way, his steps confident, but his hands clenched tightly at his sides. Rea could tell he wasn't thrilled about this either.
Jaxon lived off-campus, in a rundown apartment on the outskirts of town. The building itself looked like it had seen better days—peeling paint, a cracked sidewalk, and a broken light flickering above the entrance.
Rea hesitated before stepping inside. "Are you sure he's here?"
Aster scoffed. "If he isn't, I'll make sure to trash his place before we leave."
Rea gave him a look, but he just smirked and knocked on the door.
Silence.
Aster knocked again, harder this time. "Jaxon, open the damn door."
More silence.
Then, finally, slow footsteps.
The door swung open, revealing Jaxon Westwood in all his disheveled glory—shirtless, tattoos on full display, hair a mess, and an unimpressed expression on his face.
He looked between Aster and Rea before sighing dramatically. "What the hell do you want?"
Aster leaned against the doorframe. "A little family bonding."
Jaxon snorted. "Try again."
Rea stepped forward, holding up one of the letters they found. "We need answers."
Jaxon's gaze flickered to the paper, his jaw tightening slightly.
But his expression remained unreadable. "Not interested."
He moved to shut the door, but Aster caught it, pushing back. "Nice try, but we're not leaving until you talk."
Jaxon narrowed his eyes. "I don't owe you anything, little brother."
Aster's smirk disappeared. "You owe me a hell of a lot more than this, Jax."
Something unspoken passed between them—something heavy.
Rea swallowed, gripping the letter tighter. "Please."
Jaxon glanced at her, his expression hard. For a moment, she thought he'd slam the door in their faces.
But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Fine," he muttered, stepping aside. "But don't expect to like what you hear."
The inside of Jaxon's apartment was exactly what Rea expected—messy, cluttered, barely lived in. Papers were scattered across a table, empty bottles stacked in a corner, and a motorcycle helmet sat haphazardly on the couch.
Jaxon walked past them, grabbing a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the counter. He took a sip, then turned back to face them.
"So," he said, leaning against the counter. "You found the letters."
Rea tensed. "You knew about them?"
Jaxon scoffed. "Of course I knew. Your parents aren't as good at hiding things as they think they are."
Rea's stomach twisted. "Then tell me what they mean."
Jaxon studied her, then glanced at Aster. "And what about you? You actually care about this, or are you just here for the drama?"
Aster rolled his eyes. "Shut up and talk, Jaxon."
Jaxon sighed, setting his bottle down. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
He crossed his arms, his expression turning serious.
"Your parents and our parents—they go way back," he said, looking at Rea. "Before you were even born, they were tangled up in something big. Something dangerous."
Rea's heart pounded. "What kind of something?"
Jaxon tilted his head. "You ever heard of the Westwood name before you met Aster?"
Rea hesitated. "No."
Jaxon smirked humorlessly. "Of course not. Your parents made sure of that."
Aster tensed beside her. "What the hell does that mean?"
Jaxon exhaled. "It means, Westwood isn't just a last name, Aster. It's a legacy. One built on blood, lies, and power."
Rea's breath hitched. "Are you saying your family is—"
Jaxon cut her off. "Connected? Dangerous? Criminals? Take your pick."
Rea stared at him, her mind racing.
Her parents had been trying to protect her. That much was obvious. But from what? From who?
Aster ran a hand through his hair, looking more frustrated by the second. "Why the hell didn't anyone tell me?"
Jaxon let out a dry laugh. "Because you were never supposed to be part of it."
Aster's eyes darkened. "Bullshit."
Jaxon's smirk faded. "You think I'm lying? Then tell me, Aster—what do you really know about Dad?"
Aster's jaw tightened.
Jaxon nodded. "Exactly."
Rea felt a chill run down her spine.
This wasn't just about her. This was about Aster, too.
And whatever secrets their families had buried—
They were about to dig them up.