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I could hear the glee in his voice, the confidence that he was going to get away with everything and escape to some tropical paradise to start up his criminal activities all over again. I felt a shiver of fear at the possibility that my message might not have reached Tori or that she might not have gotten in contact with the feds in time. No matter what happened, though, I wasn’t getting on that plane with my father. I’d never leave Tori, even if I got shot in the process.

“Now!” my father hissed, pushing the door open.

Light streamed into the dark passageway, and for a moment I was blinded. I put my hand up, blinking against the brightness. But I didn’t need my eyes to hear my father cuss under his breath. Standing in the parking garage waiting for us was a gang of heavily armed federal agents in heavy gear, their weapons pointed at all three of us.

I couldn’t have been more relieved.

Luka dropped to his knees in shock.

“Hands in the air!” someone ordered.

My brother and I complied. I had known I was going to be arrested today—it was part of the deal, that I would be brought in with my family, even though I had been assured that I would not be charged. Thanks to my involvement, I had full immunity. This was all for appearances.

Meanwhile, it seemed as if my father was in a state of shock, his arms hanging limp at his sides. For a moment, I thought he might reach for his gun, but then his hands slowly, falteringly went into the air instead. Even from my position behind him, still half in the dark, I could see that he knew he was outmanned, with no way out. He knew that he had lost.

The gun was taken from my father and all three of us were cuffed. Only then was I able to breathe freely. It was over. It was all over.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

I wanted him to know.

As we were led to separate police cars, I called out to my father, and his face turned in my direction. He looked old and weak, his skin ashy and his posture stooped, as if he had aged twenty years in the past few minutes. I felt no pity.

“This was me,” I yelled to him. “You’re going down because of me.”

Prison wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated. Though I was sure the treatment I’d gotten was far better than what my father was receiving. Despite my immunity, I’d still been kept in a cell until the government raid operations were complete and the necessary release paperwork was dealt with.

I had ample time to work with my lawyer preparing a statement that would go out to the press. It stated, explicitly, that the illegal arm of my father’s company had been run solely by Konstantin Zoric and a few select executives, all of whom were now in custody. The rest of the family—myself, Luka and Emzee—were not involved in any of the criminal activities that had taken place. Furthermore, KZ Modeling would continue to operate, but only as a legitimate talent management agency. In my new role as President and CEO, I pledged to work with the feds to make sure that the back door business of the company was completely dissolved. KZM would also be rebranding itself in the coming months as well.

As my lawyer had warned me, the press took to the story like sharks to chum. Both my legal counsel and KZM’s public relations department were inundated by requests for interviews and tell-alls. But I’d already informed my team that the prepared statement was the extent of my public speaking on the matter. I’d be focusing on strengthening the business going forward.

I was so relieved that everything was over, that I’d finally be able to stop working double-time to effectively run one crooked company alongside my father while simultaneously attempting to launch another, better company behind the scenes—and all of this labor for the same agency. It had been indescribably exhausting, mentally and emotionally, and in many ways my single focus since I’d left college. When I walked out of police custody, knowing that I was officially done leading two lives, it felt like I was walking on a cloud.

And for the first time ever, I’d be able to make time to focus on my personal life. I could finally be truly present for Tori. Give my wife all the attention she deserved.

Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to be home with her. I’d been missing her since the arrest, and we’d spoken on the phone, but the need to see her, to hold her, to touch her, became an overwhelming desire that had me even more anxious to gather my things from the prison’s holding area, slip my wedding ring back on, and get the hell out of there.

Maybe we could even take a vacation together. Me, her, and some tropical deserted beach. Nothing but Mai Tais and hammock naps for the both of us. Clothing optional. My imagination began to work overtime, imagining all the things I wanted to do with Tori. All the ways I wanted to be with her.

I sincerely thanked the officers who escorted me through the thick security doors and out into the light of day. When I emerged, however, it wasn’t Tori who was waiting for me. It was Luka. He stood next to a black Town Car, waving. Flashbulbs were going off behind the barbed wire fence, and I cringed to think that the media was capturing this intensely private moment.

Approaching him cautiously, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew he’d been released earlier than me, as he’d had even less knowledge of how KZM’s underground business had worked, and under interrogation my father had immediately (and shockingly) absolved Luka of any involvement—but other than that, I had no idea how my brother was doing.

He looked a hell of a lot better than the last time I’d seen him. His face had lost some of that puffiness that had seemed as ever-present as the drinks that were always in his hand. In fact, he appeared to be freshly showered, shaved, and well-rested.

“Free at last,” he said with a wry smile, pulling me in for a quick hug.

We stepped apart and stood there, staring at each other for a moment.

“You look good,” I told him.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m trying the twelve-step thing. Getting my act together. Only been to one meeting so far, but…it’s going okay.”

A broad smile stretched across my face. So he had finally decided to get help. To get better. I felt a surge of pride at the way he’d taken responsibility for himself. It was unfortunate that it had taken such an extreme wake-up call in the form of the KZM raid and our father’s arrest, but I was glad it had shocked him into action.

“That’s great,” I told him. “You stepped up. Couldn’t be more proud, brother.”

We settled into the back of the private car and got on the road, heading toward the condo.