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DORIAN

The windowless room feels like a trap closing around me. I’m acutely aware of the armed suit by the door—the only barrier between me and finding Caroline.

The screen flickers to life. Geoffrey appears with snow-capped mountains behind him—the view from our father’s Colorado office. But something’s off. The edges around his figure shimmer slightly against the background. He’s using a filter to disguise his actual location.

“Hello, little brother,” he says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Do you have Caroline?”

“I do.” Static crosses over the video before fading to black. “Please put the headset on.”

The suit, gun still trained on me, fingers my ears, checking for a device, then passes me a wireless headset with earpieces that will cover my ears entirely.

“It’s a safety precaution,” Geoffrey says.

He wants privacy. The man holding a gun on me is trusted to kill me, but not to hear Geoffrey’s threats.

I slip the headset on, and Geoffrey’s voice continues. Which means he’s watching from somewhere. There’s a video feed to this room.

“Seven years and you never divorced her.” His voice carries a note of genuine curiosity. “I had theories, of course. Never imagined she’d become the perfect asset.”

“What do you want with her?”

“Isn’t it obvious? She’s collateral. Money isn’t sufficient incentive when someone has more money than he can spend in a lifetime. Am I right?”

My hands clench at my sides. The headset suddenly feels too tight, the leather sticky. Each word from Geoffrey slides like a blade between my ribs, the pain so terrible it awakens terror. He’s found my one true vulnerability.

“What do you want?”

This situation is why the loved ones of any powerful or influential person need security.

“I want you to listen.”

The man with the suit has backed up to the door. I’m not sure if he’s giving me the semblance of privacy or listening for activity on the other side.

“I’m listening,” I say.

“I doubt it,” Geoffrey says in that same ingratiating tone he uses when counseling me.

“You spent your life blind and deaf to everything going on around you. You blindly pledged your allegiance to our father while he held you at arm’s length.

Never questioned if all he told you about your mother might be inaccurate.

Never sought her out. You assumed the worst in the woman while never questioning the man.

A man who, time and time again, cut business deals that favored him, bulldozed laws, a man whose sole purpose was to build a legacy in name and fortune. And you worshiped at his feet.”

“You sound angry.”

“Do I?” Silence follows Geoffrey’s question, as if he’s giving the question merit.

I circle the room, pacing, passing the one exit and the man with a gun.

“Anger is not an emotion I feel. You know, I’ve spent a lifetime watching you from afar.”

I wish I could say the same. I haven’t paid nearly enough attention to Geoffrey. He was just one of many circling Dad’s orbit. At least until Dad’s gravitational force weakened, and I moved him to Colorado permanently, all to protect his integrity and reputation.

“I also watched our mothers. Of course, my mother raised me. She loved me. But I was curious. I wondered if our father treated our mothers equally. If you’re curious, he gave millions more to my mother.

She was a bigger threat. He couldn’t bear to let the world discover his penchant for prostitutes.

Interestingly, the adultery claims never bothered him. ”

“They wouldn’t,” I hear myself say. “It bothered him endlessly that I didn’t follow in his footsteps.”

The press speculated about my faithfulness. Caroline’s, too. We did our best to ignore the lies, but we wouldn’t be human if, at times, doubt didn’t fester. But I was faithful until long after the day she packed her bags.

“He believed you were too soft. He was right.”

What about Geoffrey? How closely did he follow in our father’s footsteps?

“Did you marry?”

“You really know nothing about me, do you? You trusted me with our father, let me spend more time with him than anyone else, and yet you know so little about me.”

“I grew up trusting you. I don’t recall a time without your presence.”

This fact won’t win him over. But it’s the truth. I didn’t give him my portfolio to manage because I saw him as an extension of my father, and I wanted my independence.

“You shouldn’t blindly trust anyone, Dorian,” he says, still using the too-familiar tone that I hate. The one that conveys he’s wiser.

Why is he doing this? Is this personal, or is our relationship immaterial?

“Was your mother Russian?” That’s one theory, that she raised him to do this.

“I'm not here to tell you my life story.”

“Fair enough.” My gaze falls to the suit blocking the door. “What happens now?”

“I’m leaving you with a choice. I’m phrasing it as a choice, but I’ve always known what you will do, what actions you will take.”

I pull out the chair to sit and listen, to learn what this sociopath has concocted. But my muscles are wound too tight to remain still, adrenaline crackling through my system like electricity. I shove the chair back under the desk and glare at the point where the wall meets the ceiling.

“Let’s hear it. What do you want, Geoffrey?”

“When I started this, I wanted to take everything from you. Everything you took from me by merely existing. I watched you grow up in the spotlight while I lived in the shadows. I watched you inherit the Moore name while I carried my mother’s.

I watched you build Zenith on connections that should have been mine by birth. ”

“You had the same connections. More so. You were always by his side.”

“Are you willfully blind? Are you that ignorant of how the world works? That you think you and I had the same opportunities?”

“You believe our opportunities differed because the world didn’t know you were his son?” He attended an Ivy League school. I don’t remember which one, but he’s had a stellar career.

“No one knows I’m his son. He didn’t allow my mother to place his name on my birth certificate.”

“You realize Dad was protecting you, right? The press would’ve been relentless.

They would’ve researched your mother. You would’ve been known as the son of a prostitute who was only given a job because of the man who mistakenly fathered you.

Wall Street would’ve accepted you, but when your back was turned, you would’ve been the butt of jokes. ”

“You’re such a fool,” he snarls. “That man never performed a selfless action in his life. He’s easy to read. It’s easy to predict his actions. Why can’t you see him for what he is?”

“Believe it or not, I—” The words die on my tongue.

I never saw Dad as a good person, but I worked to please him and, most recently, strove to protect him.

“My actions don’t matter. You realize his legacy will remain intact, right?

Whatever you’ve planned to hang on his head, the world will know you’re the one responsible. ”

“An interesting perspective. I knew your thoughts would go there. How exactly will you inform the world? You’ll admit that you’ve been pretending to be our father for years because of his deteriorating mental capacity?

That you orchestrated TED Talks, filmed an entire MasterClass on risk management?

Even if you tell the world about me, his unknown son, and that I’ve been acting in his stead, some out there won’t believe you.

After all, you’re guilty, too. You’ve acted in his name.

You have an entire board believing he’s functioning and of sound mind and body.

The board will wonder if you illegally controlled two board seats. ”

“He retired.”

“They’ll wonder. They’ll ask when his mind deteriorated. When did you take over? What did he do?” Static and breathing cross the line in a pattern much like a winded chuckle.

“Conspiracy theories will abound. He weaves nonsensically when he talks, and his minions leave his office thinking he’s a genius.

A mastermind. Or his favorite word: prophet.

Will world leaders believe you? Your clients?

Will your precious syndicate? They already possess doubts about your integrity. Worse, about your loyalty.”

“Who are you working with?” There’s no way he’s doing this all on his own.

“You assume I can’t possibly pull it off without help from someone else.

You see me as a worker bee, an employee taking orders.

You would be wrong. While entry into the syndicate was handed to you, I formed my own network.

But you see…or, no, you don’t, do you? Willfully blind.

I know you better than you know yourself, little brother.

I’ve spent a lifetime watching you from the shadows, learning every little detail.

How you take your coffee. How you make decisions under pressure.

Who you call when you’re worried. What medicine you take.

The art you chose, the photographs you framed.

You never noticed me, but I noticed everything about you. ”

“You do understand, you’re twenty years older than me. I was a child when I met you.”

“You’re not a kid now, though, are you? I studied you for years—as a teen, college student, businessman.

I knew Caroline was the one thing you truly loved—the one thing you couldn’t replace.

I’m not surprised you fell for her. She’s so much like your mother.

Willing to walk away from the money. Few are, you know? ”

My teeth clamp down so hard they ache. If he were in the room with me, I’d attack. I’ve never been one to lose my cool, to throw fists, but if he were here…

“What do you want, Geoffrey?”

“A recalibration. A correction, if you will. And you get to play a role. I’m going to give you a choice.” Geoffrey’s expression evolves from twisted malevolence to matter-of-fact businessman. “Enter politics as planned—all the way to the White House. Or watch everything you care about burn.”