Page 43 of The Reckoning (Oakmount Elite #7)

TWENTY-FOUR

ARIES

I wake before dawn, my body still aching from yesterday’s fight with Arson and what followed with Lilian in the forest. The Mill House is silent except for their breathing—my brother’s deep and even, Lilian’s soft and delicate between us.

We’d stumbled back here after dark, exhausted but unwilling to separate.

The three of us tangled together in my bed, a temporary sanctuary.

The memory of her between us sends heat through my veins, but it’s quickly doused by the cold reality seeping in with the pre-dawn light.

Last night, drunk on lust and adrenaline, it seemed so simple.

So right. The three of us against the world, forging something new from the ashes of all we’d destroyed.

As consciousness fully claims me, so does clarity. And with it, suffocating guilt.

I carefully extract myself from the tangle of limbs, pausing when Lilian stirs.

She murmurs something unintelligible before turning into Arson’s chest, seeking his warmth.

The sight of them together—my brother’s arm instinctively tightening around her even in sleep—makes my stomach twist with an emotion I can’t name.

Is it jealousy? Regret? Or something deeper and more corrosive?

Standing in the half light, I study them. My brother’s face, so identical to mine yet marked by years of torment I escaped. The scars are visible even in the dim light—physical manifestations of what our family did to him.

What I allowed to happen.

Beside him, Lilian looks impossibly fragile, her blond hair spilling across the pillow, dark lashes fanned against pale cheeks. Both of them are victims of my silence, my cowardice, and what will soon be my betrayal.

I know what I have to do. What I’ve known since I woke up with the weight of my sins pressing against my chest, making it harder and harder to breathe.

I dress silently, each movement deliberate. The decision crystallizes with every passing second. There’s no other way. No chance for any of us to have a real future while we’re running, hiding, and pretending the past can be buried.

Some debts can only be paid with a sacrifice.

I scribble a note—a lie about getting supplies—and leave it on the desk. One last mercy. Let them sleep a little longer before their world implodes. Again.

The drive to my family’s estate takes forty minutes, each mile adding another layer to the armor I’m building around my heart. By the time I reach the wrought-iron gates, I’m numb. Hollow inside and out. The guard recognizes me immediately, buzzing me through with a deferential nod.

It’s barely seven a.m., but I know Father will be in his study.

He’s always been an early riser, attacking the day like an enemy to be conquered.

Patricia, too, will be awake, probably reviewing her social calendar over coffee on the terrace.

The predictability of their routines used to suffocate me.

Now it’s the only certainty I can cling to.

I park in front of the mansion, not bothering with the garage. I won’t be staying long.

The housekeeper opens the door before I can even knock, surprise flickering across her features.

“Mr. Aries! We weren’t expecting you today.” I know she sees the differences in my body and in my face, but she doesn’t comment.

“Is my father in his study?” My voice sounds foreign to my own ears. Detached.

“Yes, sir. Shall I share your arrival with him?”

“No worries. I’ll go up myself.”

The house feels cavernous around me, echoing with ghosts of a childhood fractured by lies. I climb the grand staircase, each step heavier than the last. The portrait at the landing catches my eye—the family portrait taken the year after Arson was sent away.

My father, Patricia, Lilian, and me. Smiling as if nothing was missing. As if two whole people—my mother and Arson— hadn’t been erased from our lives.

I pause outside Father’s study, hand hovering over the ornate brass handle. Once I open this door, there’s no going back. After today, everything changes, everything ends.

It needs to end. Has to. The lies. The running. The pretending.

I push the door open without knocking. Father looks up from his desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, irritation flashing across his features at the interruption.

It softens slightly when he sees me, but the wariness remains.

We haven’t spoken since my graduation, since I walked away without committing to the position he’d arranged at Hayes Pharmaceuticals.

To be fair, I didn’t have a choice once Arson took me captive. Not that I would have anyway.

“Aries.” His voice is cool, measured. “This is unexpected.”

“We need to talk.” I close the door behind me, the soft click somehow more final than a slam.

He removes his glasses, setting them carefully on the polished mahogany desk.

“I assumed you’d call when you were ready to discuss your future with the company.

Since you decided against going out of the country to handle the business I assigned you, I assumed you were falling back into old habits of dodging your responsibilities after months of actually being a son I can be proud of.

So what do you want now, son? Money? To dig you out of something.

” He shakes his head in disgust. “I thought you were finally turning into the man I trained you to be.”

“This isn’t about the company.” I remain standing, hands clenched at my sides. Fists tight at the thought of Arson turning out to be the son he really wanted. Even if it was only the perfect act. “It’s about Arson.”

The name lands like a grenade in the pristine office. Father’s expression doesn’t change, but I see it in his eyes—a flicker of shock, quickly masked by practiced indifference.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He’s alive.” The words tear from my throat. “Arson is alive, and he’s been living as me .”

Father’s gaze sharpens, assessing me with new wariness. “Sit down, Aries. You’re clearly unwell.”

“I’m not sitting down, and I’m not unwell.” My voice rises despite my efforts to control it. “Stop gaslighting me. I know everything. About the institution. About what you and Patricia did to him. About what really happened at the boathouse.”

For a long moment, silence stretches between us, taut as a wire about to snap. Then, with deliberate slowness, Father rises from his chair.

“If you know all this, then you also know why it was necessary.” It’s insane how steady his voice remains, how emotionless he becomes. “Your brother was unstable. Dangerous. We did what was best for this family.”

Rage flares hot and bright behind my eyes. “Best for the family? You locked him away for eight years. Tortured him. You tried to erase him. All because he was inconvenient to your precious image.”

“He took the blame for your mistake.” Father’s eyes narrow, calculating. “Isn’t that what truly bothers you, Aries? Not what happened to him, but your own guilt?”

There’s a deadly accuracy to his statement, and I flinch, unable to hide the truth of it.

“Yes.” The admission costs me, each word torn from somewhere vital. “It was my fault. I was showing off. I froze when it went wrong. Arson stepped in to protect me, like he always did, and I let him. I let you take him away. I let you hurt him.”

“Okay, and what do you want to do about it now?” Father’s voice is dangerously soft. “Surely, you didn’t come here to confess your sins?”

“I’ve come to end it.” I meet his gaze unflinchingly. “All of it. The lies. The cover-up. The?—”

The study door opens, and Patricia glides in, elegant as always in a cream silk blouse and tailored pants. Her gaze widens fractionally at the sight of me, then narrows with suspicion.

“Richard? What’s going on?” Her gaze slides to me. “Aries. What an unexpected surprise.” I can feel her eyes scanning me, her face filling with confusion at what I can only assume is my altered appearance.

“Perfect timing,” I say, bitterness coating each syllable. “We were just discussing family secrets. Specifically, how you helped orchestrate my brother’s disappearance.”

Patricia doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t even blink. Instead, she closes the door with a soft click and moves to stand beside my father in a unified front.

“I see.” Her voice is cool, controlled. “This is nothing more than an accusation.”

“It’s not an accusation if it’s true.” I feel strangely calm now, detached from the hurricane of emotions raging inside me. “Arson is alive. He escaped the institution you sent him to. He’s been impersonating me, planning his revenge.”

“If this is true,” Father says carefully, “then he’s a threat that needs to be contained. Again .”

The clinical way he says it—like Arson is a problem to be solved rather than a son who was wronged—makes my skin crawl.

Yet it’s exactly what I expected. He’s so caught up in his need to ensure the secrets he buried stay there.

Whatever is the quickest and most efficient way to keep it all under wraps.

“Yes,” I agree, the word tasting like ash. “He’s dangerous. More than you know.”

Patricia studies me, head tilted slightly. “Why are you telling us this now, Aries? After all this time?”

Fuck me. Here it is.

The moment of betrayal. I force myself to meet her gaze, to speak the words that will damn us all. I can’t take this back, but it means the game is over, and if all goes well, the three of us—Arson, Lilian, and I—will be the ones left standing.

I can only hope they will forgive me for setting things in motion without them.

“I’m telling you because I know where he is.” My voice doesn’t waver. “And I’m willing to help you deal with him. Permanently .”

“In exchange for what?” Father’s question is immediate, his business instincts never failing.