Page 183 of Broken Brothers

That I did. That I finally, absolutely did.

Edwin Hunt was going down.

73

By the time Hunt Industries came into view, night had well settled in, making the building’s light seem like an ominous fortress.

But a fortress was nothing without its king in a position of power, and right now, the king wasn’t just down. He was at the mercy of those he had tried to hurt the most. I knew so because the prince of the king had taken the side of justice.

Along the walk over, Morgan had texted me multiple times, advising me to come up to Edwin Hunt’s office. He stated that he had ensured the way for me forward would be without trouble and that I would have no resistance. After the recording that he had of Edwin, I believed him fully.

Sorry it took so long for me to believe you, brother. I guess it just took me some time to come to my senses. Better late than never, I suppose.

When I entered the doors, the building was mostly empty, save for a single secretary at the bottom.

“Hi, Chance Givens?”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised that the secretary not only seemed to know me, she was warm about it. Perhaps more than thetwo of us are tired of Edwin’s rule. Perhaps nearly everyone wants him gone… perhaps he’s truly a one-man show, and that everyone else is just a bribed fool in this game of business.

Even his wife, I realized. Even his wife had come along not for the love, but because it seemed to logically make the most sense. This was obvious before, but now it seemed especially pronounced.

I actually began to feel, of all things, pity for Edwin Hunt. The man had more money than many countries combined, but he could never have the love that even just a fighting couple would have for each other. At least the disputing couple were fighting for an ideal—for the ideal of a potential happy marriage. No one wanted to fight Edwin in that respect because no one saw any reason to fight.

What a sad way to live life, I thought. I might have gone through a hell of a lot of stress over the previous few months and made some emotional and sexual mistakes—or at least questionable decisions—but at the end of the day, Morgan had wound up on my side, Layla had come to me, and now, if all went as I expected to, I’d even get to tell Claire that she would get a second chance at making her business work.

And who knew? Maybe even Sarah would somehow appear again, although she didn’t worry me as much as before. I assumed that if she was at her MBA program, she was happy and didn’t need me to reach out to her. It wasn’t like I needed her, anyways.

But that whole deal with Layla was something else to figure out.

The elevator doors to Edwin’s place were already waiting for me, open and inviting to the end of my perilous journey. I stepped inside, pressed for the top floor, and stood with my hands folded in front of me, the recording in my pocket, and a determination to finish what I had set out to do this whole time.

The doors opened and I stepped forward. At the end of the long hallway, Edwin’s door had swung open, with no secretary nearby. I stepped inside to see Morgan seated against Edwin’s desk, with Edwin sitting in one of his guest chairs. The image was clear—Edwin was no longer in charge of the business.

“Hey, Chance,” I said. “Do you trust me now?”

I laughed but then turned my attention to Edwin.

It was strange; this whole time, I had imagined that I would look condescendingly upon Edwin when he was defeated. I imagined dancing a jig in front of him, laughing at him, reminding him that he had no one who loved him. But now?

Those feelings of pity were even stronger. This was a man who had dug his own grave, and yet had spent years thinking that he was digging his way to a pot of gold. In reality, it was just dirt being flung up that would some come back down on him.

He was a man on the verge of hitting his eighties with no one to love him. By my best guess, he would probably retire to some faraway island, get some hookers, eat a lot of good food, and pretend that was a good way to die. But he would have to know on his death bed that wasn’t true.

If ever there was a reminder that I did not want to wind up in a life like Edwin Hunt’s, this was it.

“So here’s the deal, Chance,” Morgan said. “You have the recording of my father threatening your life. There are more like it. We have an entire trail of evidence that my father has acted illegally, unethically, and cruelly.”

Noticeably, Edwin Hunt didn’t dare to say another word. He just kept his head bowed, refusing to look at either of us. There seemed to be something so damn tragic about it if it wasn’t so satisfying. Just because I wasn’t going to visibly gloat didn’t mean I wasn’t going to derive some joy from seeing this moment come to fruition.

“I have made it clear to my father that this is the end of the line for him, and that he needs to resign. Otherwise, I will call 911 right now and have the cops arrest him with everything that I have present, including with the threat of death for us. However, Chance.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the one that got hurt the most by this. You’re the one who decides whatever you want to do with him. You can put him in jail for the rest of his life, or you can just make him retire. Whatever you want his fate to be is in your hands.”

I walked over to Edwin Hunt, who still refused to look at me.

“Hey, look up at me, coward,” I said, setting the first condition I wanted met.