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CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

JULIAN

T he ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of our living room hammers against my skull. Each second stretches into eternity as I wait for my mother to return. Bianca’s words replay in my mind like a skipping record.

She’s with your brother.

Impossible. Adrian’s dead. I saw his body. Saw the life drain from his eyes. Saw the blood—so much fucking blood—pooling beneath him on the carpet.

Unless I didn’t.

Valentine stands by the window, his posture rigid as a statue.

The shadows carve deep lines into his face, aging him decades in minutes.

He hasn’t moved since Mother led Bianca away, saying she needed to “handle this delicately.” His stillness unnerves me; Valentine is never still unless something is truly fucked.

“You knew,” I say, the words slicing through the silence. Not a question. A certainty that blooms in my chest like a poisonous flower. He’s the one who took Adrian away and insisted I stay away from him.

Valentine’s jaw ticks, the only sign that he heard me. His gaze remains fixed on some distant point beyond the glass.

“Did you fucking know?” I snarl, rising from the couch. The room sways slightly, my vision blurring at the edges from the whiskey I’ve been downing since we left the office. “If you fucking knew, I won’t hesitate to kill?—”

Mother glides in, her face set in that careful mask she wears when delivering bad news. The one that says I’m trying to protect you from something terrible.

“Leave us,” she says to Valentine, her voice gentle but firm.

Valentine hesitates—actually fucking hesitates—his eyes darting from Mother to me and back again. It’s so unlike him that cold dread seeps into my bones.

The fucker knows something.

“Did she stutter?” I snap, anger replacing fear because it’s easier. Always easier. “Get the fuck out.”

He straightens. “Of course.” As he passes Mother, they lock eyes, and then he’s gone, the soft click of the door deafening in his wake.

“Where’s Bianca?” I demand. “I want to hear more about this bullshit?—”

“She’s in the guest suite,” Mother interrupts, moving to the bar cart. Ice clinks against crystal as she pours two drinks. “She’s quite shaken. You were rather… intense with her.”

I flinch, remembering my hand around her delicate throat. Not my finest moment, but can anyone blame me? My dead brother is suddenly alive, and the woman I love—the woman I sold like a fucking piece of furniture—is with him?

Mother hands me a glass. “Drink. You need it.”

I grab the glass but set it on a table. “I don’t need another drink. I need to know if it’s true.”

She settles into an armchair as I continue standing. Her expression is controlled, but there’s a tremor in her fingers as she lifts her own glass. “Yes. Adrian’s alive.”

I grip the back of the couch to keep from swaying. A vise clamps around my chest, squeezing until I can’t breathe. He’s alive. My brother is alive.

“How?” I manage through numb lips.

Mother takes a careful sip before answering. “The bullet missed anything vital. That’s my guess. He lost a lot of blood, but apparently survived.”

“But we buried him.” My voice sounds distant, like it belongs to someone else. “There was a funeral. A body. I fucking saw him in that casket!”

“A convincing show, it seems.” She pulls out her phone. “Bianca brought these. She’s been quite resourceful in gathering her proof.”

She slides her phone across the coffee table, and I pick it up with hands that won’t stop shaking. The first photo shows an estate, I’m guessing Lorenzo’s. The second shows the garden, and a figure at its edge.

Adrian.

My lungs constrict. It’s unmistakably him—the same rigid posture as he tosses a ball to a small child I don’t recognize. He’s wearing a suit, of course. Some things never change.

I swipe to the next photo and the world continues to implode around me.

Aurelia. Laughing. Her head thrown back, red hair catching the sunlight, eyes crinkled with genuine joy. I haven’t seen her look like that in years. Maybe ever.

And Adrian is beside her, his arm draped casually around her shoulders, his mouth curved in a rare smile.

“Keep going,” Mother urges softly.

The next image is blurrier, taken from farther away. They’re sitting at a table on a patio, heads bent close together like conspirators. Lorenzo is in the background with the child.

And the next image?—

My stomach heaves. Adrian and Aurelia kissing as if they’re drowning and the other is air.

“Enough,” I rasp, dropping the phone like it’s burned me. “I get the fucking point.”

“I’m so sorry, dear.” Mother moves to me, encouraging me to sit on the couch with her. She rests a calming hand on my shoulder. “I can’t imagine how painful this must be. I… I’m also hurt by Adrian’s actions. How could he do this to us?”

Pain doesn’t begin to cover it. It feels like someone’s taken a dull blade and is slowly, methodically carving out my insides. My brother is alive—a fact that should bring joy—but he’s with the woman I love. My woman. The woman who supposedly hated him and was miserable with him for a decade.

“I don’t understand,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “She broke up with him. She was always so fucking unhappy with him. Why help fake his death and run away together?”

Mother’s lips press into a thin line. “I’ve been thinking about that. I believe they’ve been planning this for quite some time.”

“Planning what?”

“Think about it.” Her tone is careful, as if explaining something to a child. “Adrian was next in line to lead. You never wanted any part of the Consortium. Then suddenly, Adrian is ‘killed,’ and you’re forced to step up—a position you were completely unprepared for.”

The pieces shift in my mind, a kaleidoscope rearranging into a pattern that makes my blood run cold. “You think they set me up to fail?”

Mother sighs. “I think Adrian always resented being the heir, but he knew if he simply walked away, Lucian would never let him live. And Aurelia… well, she spent ten years with Adrian. She knew every detail of our business. She had access. Information.”

“No,” I shake my head, denying what she’s saying even as doubt creeps in. “No.”

“Didn’t she always crave her freedom? Or maybe she truly did love him all along, and her interest in you was just another part of their manipulation.”

Something inside me rebels against this. Before everything that happened, Aurelia was too needy for me. We were always pulled to one another. The sex was explosive. She opened up to me about things I’m sure she never told Adrian .

But then again, I’ve been wrong about her before. Christ, have I been wrong about everything?

“So they want…?” I ask, desperation clawing at my throat.

Mother’s eyes meet mine, steady and sure. “I’m sorry to say this, but they wanted to humiliate you. She was with him for ten years, which is plenty of time to make big plans together. They both want the Consortium to fail, it seems. And they expect you to achieve that goal.”

I stand to pace the length of the room, energy buzzing through me like a live wire. “It doesn’t make sense. If Adrian wanted out, he could have just left. Why the elaborate deception?”

“Because he didn’t just want out,” Mother says softly. “He wanted to hurt us. To punish us.”

“I can understand punishing Lucian or the Consortium. But us? Us? ”

She looks away, pain etching lines around her mouth.

“You don’t deserve such treatment, but me…

I think I understand. I failed to protect either of you from your father.

Adrian never forgave me for that, I think.

He always blamed me for not leaving, for not taking you both away from here when you were babies.

” Her voice cracks and she hugs herself.

“I’m so sorry. I should have left. I was just so scared of your father. ”

“I know.” I squeeze her shoulder gently as she breaks down in tears.

Then I suddenly remember something I must have buried.

Adrian at seventeen, holding ice to my split lip after Lucian caught me sneaking out.

“One day,” he said, “one day we’ll get away from him.

” I thought he’d meant both of us. But what if he’d only ever meant himself?

No… my brother wouldn’t… he couldn’t…

“He just left me to deal with this shit alone?” Bitterness burns in my throat. “Let me think he was dead? Let me spiral into fucking insanity with guilt and grief?”

Mother sniffs and regains herself. “I’m afraid so. He didn’t even care enough to let you know he was alive. It was all part of their cruel plan.”

The betrayal cuts deep and it’s all-encompassing. I remember being five years old, Adrian teaching me to tie my shoes. Eight, and him patching up my skinned knees after I fell off my bike. Twelve, and him showing me how to throw a proper punch so I could defend myself against our father if needed.

All those moments—were they real? Or was I just a burden he couldn’t wait to escape?

A harsh laugh tears from my throat. “So Aurelia was telling the truth all along. She kept saying she didn’t kill Adrian.”

“Technically, she didn’t,” Mother says. “But she helped. She must have.”

I move to the window, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. Rain has started to fall, mirroring the storm brewing inside me. “Why try to pin his ‘death’ on you? You, out of everyone, are innocent in all of this.”

Mother joins me at the window, her reflection wavering in the glass. “To remove me and isolate you completely. She knows I’ll always be on your side, no matter what.”

The pieces click into place even though I don’t want them to. “They wanted me alone. With no one to turn to. No one to help me lead. So I can fail faster and they can get what they want—to see the Consortium fall.”

“Yes.” Her hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. You poor sweet boy. You don’t deserve this.”

I close my eyes, letting the pain wash through me. Adrian is alive. Aurelia is with him. They’ve been playing me all along.

Even in my darkest moments—when I locked Aurelia away, when I drugged her, when I sent her to Lorenzo—I never once stopped loving her. Not really. But she… she’s been laughing at me, planning my downfall, waiting for me to crash and burn.

I don’t know if I can bear this; I can’t breathe and the world is quickly turning black.

“You know,” Mother continues, her voice breaking, “I’ve always loved you more because I knew right away that Adrian was so much like his father—so secretive and manipulative.

He never stood up for me. But you did. You always did.

I’m so thankful for that. Thank you.” A tear slips down her cheek.

“I love you with all my heart, and I only want to see you happy,” she says, taking my hands in hers.

“I know this is difficult, but you understand what you need to do now.”

Do I?

I know she means to kill them but… can I do what’s needed?

Fuck, this pain is like a fucking blackhole, sucking me in until there’s nothing left but memories that once existed.

Everyone I’ve ever loved has betrayed me. Everyone except the woman standing by me right now—the one who endured decades of abuse to keep me safe, who’s guiding me through this nightmare of leadership, who’s never once abandoned me or tried to deceive me.

I turn back to the window, watching raindrops race down the glass like tears. Maybe I am getting sucked into the darkness, but that doesn’t mean I can’t come out of it stronger.

I am strong; I’ll show them I’m much stronger than they think.

Those stubborn soft spots I’ve always had for Aurelia in my heart finally turn to stone.

This is no longer about love, it’s about what’s right. What’s my right. And this game ends now. I’m getting back what I’ve lost.

After a sigh that solidifies this new reality, I say, “Yes, Mother. I know what I need to do.”