Page 72 of Sebastian.

“You really expected I’d invite you to family events? Like family dinners? Weddings? Funerals?” I chuckle at the whole thing, head shaking at his own delusion. “You were invited to a few funerals, if I remember correctly.”

“You know what I mean,” he fumes, clearly upset. “I didn’t want you to call it from the rooftops that I was your brother, but you could have done something,anything, to treat me a little more like family…to make me feel welcome.”

“Why would I do that?” I ask, totally shocked at his thought process. “When all you have ever wanted was to become CEO and get rid of me? Isn’t that the truth, Karl?” I bite back.

“It just…” Karl heaves a long sigh, rolling his eyes to look at the ceiling, like he doesn’t want to look me in the eye as he complains. Yet his tone isn’t aggressive like mine, quite the contrary. “I did so much for the company; I worked on the expansion, on recruiting business partners all around the world, even from China…” He shrugs self-consciously, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So you did your job?And?What am I supposed to glean from that?”

“I did so much more than you have ever done.” His awkwardness shifts to angry frustration. “I thought maybe one day I’d get the recognition that I deserve. I worked so hard for it…and yet, since the death of our dad you’ve become distant, treating me with a coldness that wasn’t there before. I thought you were just grieving and needed some space. That was until I noticed people getting promoted right and left, while I remained at the very same job for years.”

I scoff. “What the hell are you talking about? You became the head of national sales just last year. I even invited you over to the estate, like you just said you wanted.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Karl’s tether on his own temper snaps, and his face twists in rage. “If it wasn’t for your son pitching you the role of head of global sales, I’d have never been promoted to anything else after that. I’ve worked for you for decades…by now, I should have been C-level, Seb, not a fucking head of a sales department!”

Things start to clear up for me as he rages on. “So that’s what this is all about? Revenge against me for not promoting you to C-level?”

He barks a cruel laugh. “Call it whatever you want, Sebastian. The time for negotiations about my place at the company, and in your family, is long passed. There’s a price to pay now if you want to save yourself.”

“Oh, and that price is my title of CEO? My birthright? Do you think you’re the only one that’s worked hard? The only one that suffered? I lost my family, my father––”

“He was my father too, you know.” Karl bites out the words, and they make me snap my jaw shut. He’s not wrong, but I refuse to consider that he might have shared in even a fraction of the grief I’ve felt.

I let my voice lower now, though, lacing it with at least a little bit of empathy. “Be that as it may, I can’t nominate a criminal as the CEO, Karl.”

Karl shakes his head, heaving a long sigh at my response. “Then I’m afraid we are going to share the same cell,brother.”

I’m done with this. Done wasting my time with this conversation, and done trying to talk to someone who refuses to listen. If I’m right, and Karl took most of my family from me, then I don’t owe him a damn thing. “Maybe we will. That’s yet to be seen, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon.”

With that, I leave. There’s nothing else to be discussed. I pass Lilian on the way out, thanking her for her hospitality, and striding down the driveway to my car before Karl can get his second wind and restart the argument.

The only thing to do now is get Gabi on my side and convince her that there is a real reason to press charges against Karl for the homicide of my mother, sister, and brother. All I’m lacking is evidence, and if I manage to find some, it will change everything.

Back in the car, I start the ignition and pull away, getting a mile or so down the road when my phone rings over the Bluetooth connection. I answer the call, pressing the button to pick up on the steering wheel, and my butler’s voice comes over the sound system.

“Sir, I thought you might want to know that your wife is here to see the children. I wanted to give you a forewarning in case you wanted to talk to her.”

This information gives me a little bit of light on this dark, miserable day. There’s no better time to fill her in on everything that I know, and the prospect of seeing Julia makes me feel warmer inside than I have in days. “Yes, in fact, I do want to speak to her. Please tell her that I’d like to have dinner with her…I have news that I think she will be very interested in.”

22

Julia

Being home is…strange,to say the least, but not nearly as strange as I thought it would be. It’s heartbreaking, of course, but at the same time, there is an odd sort of comfort in knowing that I can walk through these doors and be here without panicking and fleeing.

I’m being dramatic…nothing could ever make me afraid to be at the place that I’ve lived and made my own for so many years. But there is one fear, of course, and that’s running into my husband. I came to see the kids, but there’s a little piece of me that is excited to see him too, even if I shouldn’t be.

So when I realize he isn’t here, my stomach drops, and I can’t hide the disappointment on my face, so much so that Aleida pulls on my dress and asks, “Mommy, are you okay?”

I force a smile on, leaning down to kiss the soft hair on the crown of her head. “Of course, sweet girl. I’ve just got a little bit of a bellyache, is all.”

We go outside to play in the sunshine, Arthur’s little hand held in mine as the older kids rush out into the grass. Hannah is already there, stretched out on the lounger in leggings and a crop top, soaking in the early autumn warmth while it sticks around.

Joris and Aleida blow past her into the yard, and I smile when the teen holds her hand up, without even glancing from her phone, and both younger kids give her a passing high five as they run. Hannah is a good sister, even if she wants to pretend otherwise.

I pull a chair up next to Hannah, the legs of it scraping against the stone patio, and take a seat while Arthur gathers his rolling car and truck toys, displaying them to me one by one before rolling them happily around in a game all of his own.

“How was your week, love?” I ask Hannah, reaching down to let my hand linger in Arthur’s soft baby hair.

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