Chapter Twenty-Two
WARREN
“You can’t go after her,” Anthony warns, his grip biting into my shoulder as I watch my brother disappear after Leoni. “Remember the plan.”
My hands curl into fists. I don’t trust myself to speak.
Nancy smirks. I turn to her slowly, stepping close enough that my mouth brushes her ear. “I think my father may have already leaked that footage to every porn site available.”
Her grin falters.
“Maybe,” I snap, “I should tip off a journalist. One who’ll pay good money for a story like that.”
“Why are you so angry?” she demands. “I did you a favour. That mild little excuse of a woman doesn’t belong in your world. These sharks will eat her alive.”
“Boss,” Anthony says sharply, loud enough for those nearby to hear, “we’ve got a problem.”
I turn. “Oh?”
“It’s your father,” he says. “He’s taken ill.”
The room shifts. Whispers ripple outward like a disease. I’m ushered through the crowd, into the office where I last saw him alive. He’s slumped in the chair, his skin grey, mouth slack.
“Jesus,” I mutter, moving to him and taking his hand. It’s already cooling.
“The ambulance has arrived,” Anthony says quietly.
Harry appears in the doorway, concern etched deep. He nudges Nancy toward me, and she reluctantly takes my arm—a performance for anyone watching.
We’re sent back out, surrounded by murmured sympathy, forced patience, and eyes that won’t stop tracking us as the paramedics do exactly what they’ve been paid to do.
Minutes later, one of them steps back out. His face says everything before his head gives a single, solemn shake.
I draw in a sharp breath, turning away, pressing my hands to my face.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Would you like to come back in and sit with him?”
I nod.
Inside, they’re lifting him onto a stretcher, covering him with a white sheet. When the room clears, I pull out my phone, snap a picture, and send it to my uncle.
Me: Your brother is at peace now.
I lean closer, studying my father’s face. Without the rage. Without the power. He’s just another body. A stark reminder that in the end, we all look the same. Rich or poor. Loved or feared.
“Rot in hell, you fucking bastard,” I murmur.
I pull the sheet up over his face and leave.
“Has anyone found my brother?” I ask the room.
“He’s gone,” Anthony replies. “I can take you to him.”
I nod, pushing back into the crowd, accepting condolences, shaking hands, playing the part.
I pause beside Harry. “They’re taking my father to a private hospital,” I say calmly. “Can you take Nancy home? I’ll call later.”
He claps my shoulder. “Of course, son. Don’t worry.”
LEONI
Erik doesn’t touch me. That’s the first thing I notice. He keeps his distance, leaning back against the stone island like he’s got all the time in the world, like this isn’t the moment my life is splitting in two.
“You’re not here because I dragged you,” he says calmly, reading my expression. “You could’ve walked away.”
“I still can,” I reply, though my voice isn’t as steady as I’d like.
“Yes,” he agrees. “But you won’t. Because you already know something doesn’t add up.”
Silence stretches between us. The air feels cool, biting against my skin.
“Say it,” I whisper. “Whatever you’re itching to say.”
Erik exhales slowly, like he’s been holding this in for years. “Your brother didn’t die because he was unlucky.”
My chest tightens. “Get to the point.”
“He was already marked long before you found him.”
I shake my head. “He was mixed up with the wrong people. You're not telling me anything new.”
Erik’s mouth curves, not a smile. Something darker. “Isaac was a runner. He started small time and got greedy. He was moving product tied to my family.”
“No,” I breathe. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” His voice doesn’t rise. “He started skimming off the profits, then trying to build bigger, thinking we wouldn’t notice. He knew exactly what he was doing.”
My hands curl into fists, and my heart hammers against my ribs. Suddenly, every breath is too hard.
“He became a liability.”
“He was a nobody,” I almost whisper, “He was never a real threat to your family.”
“It’s just the way business works, Leoni. He knew the rules. He took the risk anyway and it didn’t pay off for him.”
I take a minute to process before asking the next question. “Did Warren know?”
He stares, like he’s contemplating the answer.
My lungs burn. “You said you’d tell me the truth.”
He steps closer now, careful. “Warren didn’t order Isaac’s death.”
Relief surges so fast it makes me dizzy.
Then Erik finishes. “He ordered the message.” My stomach drops. “The beating. The warning. Enough damage to scare him straight.” Erik’s jaw tightens. “But my father, he doesn’t believe in warnings. He believes in endings.”
I stagger back, hitting the stone behind me.
“You’re saying—”
“I’m saying Warren started the ball rolling, had him beaten. But he knew our father would escalate,” Erik says quietly. The words sink deep. Slow and poisonous. “He chose to protect the business,” Erik continues. “He’ll always choose that.”
Tears blur my vision. “He told me he didn’t know anything.”
“He lied.”
I swallow hard. “Why are you telling me this?”
Erik looks away, jaw flexing. “Because Warren has convinced himself he’s better than the monster who raised him.” He glances back at me, “He always thinks he’s better than everyone else.”
My heart is in pieces. “Do you hate him?” I ask.
Erik snorts softly. “I hate that he thinks he’s in charge.”
“So, all this, it’s some kind of bitter sibling rivalry?” He falls silent. “You’re trying to ruin my life because you hate your fucking brother?” I scream, balling my fists.
“Would you prefer you didn’t know?” he demands. “Would you prefer to lay beside the man that’s lying to you night after night?”
“What else?” I demand, my voice shaking as I pace the space between us. I can’t stand still. If I stop moving, I might break.When he doesn’t answer, I whirl on him. “You didn’t drag me all this way just to tell me half the truth. So say it. What else don’t I know?”
My heart is pounding so hard it hurts.
“You wanted to burn his world to the ground,” I continue, the words tumbling out faster now. “So what else did your family take from me? Was Nancy telling me the truth? Was he with me because your father told him to be?”
The silence stretches. It screams. Erik’s jaw tightens. Then he nods.
“Why?” I whisper, the word barely making it past my lips.
“Your father worked for mine.”
The air leaves my lungs in one sharp, brutal rush. I have to grab the edge of the counter to stay upright.
“That’s why,” I say faintly, pieces clicking together whether I want them to or not. “That’s why Dad looked at me like that when I told him about Warren.” I laugh weakly. It sounds wrong. Broken. “He knew,” I murmur. “And that means Warren knew exactly who I was.”
“He had an affair, your dad,” he says quietly. “With my mother.”
I sink onto the nearest stool, my legs giving out beneath me, my skin buzzing like I’ve been flayed open. Everything makes sense now, like my mind is speeding up with truths.
Footsteps echo somewhere behind me, but they barely register. When I finally lift my head, Warren is standing there. Watching me with Anthony beside him.
Tears flood my eyes instantly, my chest seizing as I swallow back the scream clawing its way up my throat. My hands curl into fists in my lap, nails biting into my skin as I stare at the man who knew every secret, and kept it from me, yet my heart wants his comfort.
WARREN
I know before she looks at me.
I see it in the way her shoulders cave, as though something vital has been ripped out of her chest and she’s trying to stay upright through sheer will. I’ve seen bodies react to shock before. Men shot, stabbed, beaten senseless.
And yet, this is worse.
Leoni lifts her head slowly, and when our eyes meet, it feels like taking a blade straight through the ribs.
Fuck.
Anthony shifts beside me, tension coiled tight, but I don’t look at him. I don’t look at Erik either. I only see her.
Her tears spill over, silent and devastating, and I realise with a sick certainty that whatever Erik told her…it landed. Fully. Cleanly. No room for doubt. Exactly how he planned.
“Lee—”
The sound of her name on my tongue feels wrong now. Unearned. She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t move. Just stares at me as if she’s seeing something she can’t unsee. And fuck do I want to take those images away and stop her pain.
I take a step forward. Then another. Slow. Careful. Scared she might bolt, or shatter, if I move too fast.
“Whatever he told you,” I start.
Her breath stutters. That’s my warning, so I stop, holding my hand between us, like a peace offering.
“I should’ve told you,” I say instead. My voice comes out rougher than I expect, choking with emotion. “Before any of this. Before it got this far.”
She lets out a broken laugh, the sound scraping raw. It guts me.
“Isaac,” is all she says, but the devastation on her face makes it clear. She knows everything.
“I didn’t order Isaac’s death,” I say, because I need her to hear that much at least. “But I knew my father wouldn’t stop. I told myself I could manage it. Contain it.”
“Did you know he was my brother?” Her voice is shaky, and I don’t know if she’s trying not to scream or hold back her emotions.
Anthony shifts, “Boss,” he murmurs, worried I’ll implicate myself. I give my head a shake. She needs to hear it all. It’s gone too far.
“Not at first. Not until I saw him on your couch.”
Her hands tremble in her lap. “Who killed him?”
My eyes glance in Erik's direction, but she doesn’t notice; she’s too busy staring into her lap. “I don’t know,” I lie.
Erik’s brow furrows in confusion.
“I was wrong not to warn you,” I add. “I chose wrong.”
Anthony shifts again, uneasy. I ignore him.
“I didn’t use you,” I say quietly. “I didn’t plan to fall for you. But I lied to you every day after. And that part?” I swallow hard. “That part is on me.”