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“Your brother’s coming,” Connor mutters.
My muscles tense, fight-or-flight kicking in.
Elijah cuts through the crowd like a shark through water, all predatory grace in his tailored suit and our father’s sharp features.
THREE
BRANDON
“Brandon.” Elijah’s voice carries that note of authority that makes my jaw clench. “Glad you could make it.”
“How could I miss it?” I meet his eyes. “Such a touching tribute.”
“We need to talk.”
“About what? How well I’m filling Dad’s shoes?” I adjust my cufflinks. “Or maybe, how I’m not living up to the Milton name?”
“Hey.” Naomi’s hand touches my arm, but I shrug it off.
“No, let’s hear what my big brother has to say. I’m sure it’s fascinating.”
“This isn’t the time or place,” Elijah says, voice low and controlled. Always so fucking controlled.
“When is it ever?” I spread my arms wide, drawing attention from nearby guests. “Should I write a formal proposal? Schedule a meeting with your assistant?”
“Don’t be difficult.”
I bark out a laugh. “How long did it take you to memorize Dad’s disappointed face?”
Sebastian tries to intervene. “Guys?—”
“Stay out of it,” Elijah and I snap in unison.
Great. Now we’re saying the same things, like some fucked-up twins.
“You’re drunk,” Elijah says.
“Not drunk enough for this conversation.”
“Can you, for once in your life, act like?—”
“Like what?” My voice rises. “Like you? Sorry to disappoint, but one Charles Milton Junior is enough.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks. “You’re crossing a dangerous line.”
“Save the lecture. I know my lines in this play.” I mimic our father’s voice. “’Be more like your brother, Brandon. Why can’t you take things seriously, Brandon?’ Did I miss anything?”
Silence falls between us, heavy with years of unspoken resentment. Naomi’s watching me with those eyes of hers, and I hate that I care what she thinks. That I see pure disappointment there.
I am a disappointment.
“Ten minutes,” Elijah says. “The speech is in ten minutes.”
“Pass.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Naomi steps between us, her hand pressing against my chest. The warmth of her touch cuts through my anger like a knife. “Both of you, stop.”

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