Page 43 of Goldrage (The Chrysophilist Trilogy #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

JULIAN

T he leather creaks under my weight as I sink deeper into Lucian’s old office chair, my palms pressing against the wooden desk.

The bastard hasn’t been here in months, but this office still reeks of cigars, Lucian’s ghost lingering in every corner.

Above me, the mounted heads of exotic animals stare down with glassy eyes. A tiger. A lion. A fucking rhino.

All of them slaughtered for sport. Trophies to prove dominance.

I know exactly how they feel.

Acid feels like it’s literally eating through my heart. I can’t even wrap my thoughts around what I just heard at dinner.

Valentine is my father.

I’m a bastard child.

Not Harrow blood.

The words keep circling like vultures, picking at the corpse of everything I thought I knew.

I’m not Lucian’s son, the man whose fists taught me how to bleed, whose voice still echoes in my bones telling me I’m weak, pathetic, a disappointment. I pound my fist against the desk. I put up with all that shit and I’m not even his fucking son?

And Valentine watched it all happen. He stood in doorways and corners like a fucking specter while Lucian broke me down piece by piece. Valentine knew the whole goddamn time that he was letting a stranger brutalize his son.

My fingers curl against the desk until my knuckles crack. How many times did I crawl to my room, ribs screaming, face swollen, wondering what I’d done wrong this time? How many nights did I lie awake trying to figure out ways to finally make Lucian proud, to finally be the son he wanted?

And Valentine knew. He fucking knew and did nothing!

He didn’t care about me enough to act…

In a twisted way, that means Lucian cared about me more.

The office door inches open. I don’t need to look to know it’s Adrian; his presence fills spaces differently than other people, like he was born to command rooms.

I’ve tried. I’ve fucking tried , but I’ll still never be half the leader he is so naturally.

Guess I finally understand why.

Not a Harrow.

“Julian?”

I keep my eyes on the desk’s surface, on the scratches and scuff marks from decades of use. My voice comes out like gravel. “Did you know? ”

Adrian walks deeper into the room and clears his throat. “Not until recently. Valentine… told me a few days ago. I’m sorry.”

A laugh tears out of me and I nearly choke on it. “Of course he did. Everyone always tells you everything first, don’t they? You were always on a fucking pedestal, even with him.” My voice cracks, and I hate myself for it. “I mean, what the fuck am I? I’m everyone’s trash.”

Adrian’s footsteps are careful, like I’m some wild animal he’s trying not to spook. With all these dead things watching from the walls… how ironic.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you right after I found out,” he says.

“I thought it was best you hear it from Valentine, and he didn’t know the right time.

” He stops in front of the desk and peers down at me like I’m some pathetic little child.

“But I need you to listen to me now. Really listen, not like the other times when you shut me out.”

My head snaps up, and I know I must look like shit—eyes burning, face probably blotchy from the rage and the fucking tears. “So you’re here to tell me more bullshit, but disguise it as brotherly love?”

“The truth. All of it. I need you to finally listen to the truth, brother.”

The fight drains out of me all at once, leaving me hollow.

I slump back in the chair, suddenly exhausted.

What does it matter if I let him talk? Not like my day can get any worse.

“I know what you’re going to say, but fine.

Tell me your version of the truth. Tell me how I’m supposed to deal with the fact that my entire life has been a fucking lie. ”

Adrian settles into the chair across from me, and for a moment we’re just two men in a room full of dead things.

Hell, maybe it’s always been this way; we’ve been drowning in death our entire lives.

“It hasn’t been a lie because of Valentine,” he starts slowly.

“I’m not trying to defend the man because he’s done his share of evil, but imagine what would’ve happened if Lucian found out.

” His hands rest on his knees, completely still; Adrian never fidgets, never shows nerves.

“He would’ve killed you. I hate that you didn’t grow up knowing your true father, but you knew Lucian well.

He would have killed you. Then Valentine.

Then Aurelia. I know this hurts, but I’m thankful Valentine didn’t reveal the truth while Lucian was alive.

I’d be without you, and that’s something I never want. ”

I scoff, but his words make sense. Logically, I know he’s right. Lucian would’ve painted the walls with my blood if he’d known I wasn’t his. But logic doesn’t stop the crushing weight in my chest, doesn’t erase twenty-eight years of believing I was never good enough for my own father.

My hands shake as I reach for the whiskey glass that isn’t there. I’m so used to having one within arm’s length that it takes me a second to remember I didn’t yet pour myself a drink. I drop my hands uselessly to my lap.

Adrian leans forward when I stay silent, his words coming faster now.

“Lady Harrow has always been trying to separate us. You must see that now. I’m certain she never revealed your father because it would’ve ruined her schemes, and that’s the only reason.

Not because she cared about your suffering, but because revealing that you’re not Harrow blood would’ve killed her ultimate plan for control.

” His jaw tightens. “She wants control of the Consortium, but no one would ever recognize her as a leader, not with two heirs. For years, she’s been trying to drive a wedge between us.

” He pats the center of his chest. “She shot me, Julian. Our mother put a bullet in my chest and left me to die because I threatened her plans for you. She wanted to secure your place as leader, and my gut is telling me that in a few year’s time, she’d kill you and seize control. ”

I close my eyes. I’m too exhausted to even feel anything from his words. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not.” His voice doesn’t waver, doesn’t flinch.

“Julian, listen to me. You know that I’m not lying.

She’s kept your father a secret all these years.

She needed me gone so you could take power without interference.

She knew I’d never let you become what she wanted you to be—a weapon, a monster, a carbon copy of Lucian.

And once she’d bled you dry and transformed this organization into what she wanted, she’d have no use for you either. ”

My fingers dig into the desk’s edge until I chip a nail. “She said… she said you and Aurelia had a plan. That you faked your death to?—”

“There was no plan. I’ve been trying to tell you this.

Aurelia and I had no plan against you.” The gentleness in his voice makes it worse somehow.

“The truth is, Aurelia loved you. All the years I was dating her, she was focused solely on you. And she wanted to be with you. When she thought I was dead… she was merely grieving and trying to make sense of what she saw. She walked in shortly af ter Lady Harrow shot me. She knew the truth and all she did was try to tell it to you. She thought I was dead for weeks and her only desire was your help with getting revenge on Lady Harrow for that injustice. When she found out I was alive, she risked everything to try to save me, just like I would have done for you. The both of us were simply surviving. This entire time I’ve been focused on breaking you free of Lady Harrow’s chains. ”

The walls I’ve spent years building start to crack. My breathing goes shallow as I open my eyes and stare at the dead lion’s head on the wall.

“Aurelia loved you,” he says again. Past tense.

The words hit like bullets. “Really loved you, not some fabricated emotion designed to manipulate. But Lady Harrow couldn’t allow that.

She needed Aurelia to be the enemy, needed you to hate her so you’d choose power over love. So she manipulated Aurelia.”

“Stop,” I whisper.

But Adrian doesn’t stop. Refuses to stop.

“Lady Harrow is the one who created a scheme to get Aurelia her mother’s diaries.

She manipulated a distressed young woman, pushing her toward revenge because it would get rid of players Lady Harrow wanted out of the Consortium.

She orchestrated everything, even your eventual betrayal of each other. ”

Stop.

Stop.

I hang my head and press my palms against my eyes.

Fucking… stop…

My vision blurs around the edges. I’m drowning—lungs full of water, chest crushed under the weight of every lie I’ve swallowed, every truth I’ve rejected.

My head moves side to side, but no words come out.

What could I possibly say? That I rejected the only woman who ever truly loved me?

That I let our mother turn me into exactly what she wanted?

I don’t want this to be real.

“And… I failed you.” Adrian’s voice cracks for the first time, and it’s that sound—my unbreakable brother finally breaking—that threatens to undo me completely.

“I’ve been watching Lady Harrow poison you since we were children, and I didn’t do enough to stop it.

I told myself that I needed patience, that someday we would both be free of her.

I thought I was protecting you by teaching you to be controlled, to survive against Lucian, but all I did was make you easier for her to manipulate. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, brother.”

I glance up to find Adrian’s cheeks wet. This is only the second time I’ve ever seen him cry. First, when he thought Aurelia was dead. And now… for me?

“This is my fault.” His shoulders shake with the force of his grief. “I should have fought harder to keep you safe from her influence. I’m your big brother. Protecting you was supposed to be my job, and I failed. I failed. It’s my life’s biggest regret.”