Chapter 29
Keith
We’d stayed at Aurelia’s parents’ place for two days before returning to Elysian Haven.
It felt grounding, family, warmth, a sliver of normalcy I’d never known, but the moment the island came back into view, unease settled in my chest. The return to Elysian Haven was supposed to be a balm, a retreat to the paradise I'd built, but the rotors slicing through the air above the lagoon sounded more like a guillotine’s blade than a welcome home.
I kept my thoughts contained, a storm cloud I couldn’t let break, not with Aurelia beside me, her hand in mine as we descended, her eyes bright with the island’s promise despite the shadows of her own past. Father’s empire wasn’t just business.
It was a graveyard of broken lives. And I’d been complicit by blood if not by choice.
The guilt gnawed, but I pushed it down, focusing on her, my light, my reason to dismantle it all.
We touched down on the helipad, the rotors slowing to a whine as Victor signaled the all-clear.
Aurelia stepped out first, the breeze catching her sundress, lifting it in a swirl of blue fabric that made her laugh, a sound that cut through the darkness like sunlight.
She turned to me, her hair whipping around her face, her smile tentative but genuine.
Zora waited by the path, her sleek black hair tied back, her leather jacket and jeans a badass contrast to the island's tropical vibe.
She'd arrived yesterday on my jet, her presence a calculated move.
Aurelia needed a friend, someone to talk to without the weight of my shadows, and Zora as my sister, was the only one I trusted with that fragility.
She was twenty-eight, same as Aurelia, sharp as a blade, with a no-nonsense edge honed from years without breaking.
Her dark eyes missed nothing, and her smile was a weapon, charming when she wanted, cutting when she didn't.
"Brother," she said, hugging me briefly, her grip firm. "You look like hell. Island life not agreeing?"
"Family drama," I muttered, pulling back, nodding toward Aurelia. "Thanks for coming. She... she needs someone. Someone to talk to"
Zora's gaze flicked to Aurelia, softening. "She's tough. But yeah, I get it. Women talk, men brood, it's the natural order." She turned to Aurelia, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you again. Heard a lot about you, mostly from his moping texts."
Aurelia laughed, a light sound that eased the knot in my chest, shaking Zora's hand. "Pleasure’s all mine. And moping? He doesn't strike me as the type."
Zora smirked, slinging an arm around Aurelia's shoulders as they started toward the villas, me trailing behind like a shadow. "Oh, he is. 'Zora, she's amazing. Zora, I screwed up. Zora, fix it.' Classic Keith. Builds islands but can't build a bridge after a fight."
I rolled my eyes, but the banter pulled a reluctant smile from me. "I'm right here. And I don't mope."
Aurelia glanced back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's cute."
Zora snorted. "Cute? That's a first. Usually it's 'terrifying' or 'intimidating.' What spell did you cast, Aurelia?"
"Just luck," Aurelia replied, her tone playful, but her hand squeezed mine when I caught up. "Or stubbornness. He's hard to scare off."
We reached the villa cluster with the lagoon sparkling beyond.
I left them at Aurelia's room, the door closing on their laughter, and headed to mine.
Seeing her smile, hearing Zora's teasing pull it out, it was a glimpse of normalcy.
A reminder that not everything was tainted.
But as I sat on the balcony, my phone buzzed, pulling me from the abyss.
Elias, the butler, his number flashing like a warning.
Suspicious. He never called unless Father ordered it, or something dire. I answered, "Elias. What's happened?"
His voice was tight, the usual formality cracked. “Mr. Krogen, sir... it's Ray. He's... dead. Found him this morning in the pond behind the cottages. Floating face down.”
The words hit like a gut punch, air leaving my lungs in a rush.
Ray! Dead. The man who'd confessed in the market, his eyes wide with the burden of mother's murder, the sold sister, the empire's rot.
"What happened?" I demanded, standing, my voice low, controlled, but laced with ice. "Details, Elias. Everything."
He hesitated, the phone line crackling faintly.
"I... I don't know, sir. The groundskeeper found him at dawn, tangled in the lily pads, water red around his head.
Looked like... trauma. Blow to the skull, maybe.
No note, no sign of struggle on the bank, but.
.. it's suspicious. Mr. Marcus told me to handle the cleanup. "
Fury ignited, hot and blinding, my vision narrowing to the lagoon below, its serene surface mocking the violence.
Ray, dead because of me, because I'd pushed him for answers, stirred the hornet's nest. He'd killed him, silenced the witness to mother's murder, the empire's secrets.
My hands gripped the railing, knuckles white, rage boiling over.
"I'm coming back," I growled, my voice a promise of storm. "Tell no one. I'll be there in hours."
The call ended, and I paced the balcony, the island's beauty a cruel irony. Guilt crashed over me, a tidal wave, my fault for dragging him into the light, for not protecting him sooner.
I found Aurelia and Zora with Theo on the patio, laughing over coffee. "Aurelia,” I said, my voice rougher than intended. “I need to get back to New York. Business.”
Her face fell, concern etching her features. “What kind? Everything okay?”
I nodded, forcing a smile. “Just... loose ends. Nothing I can’t handle. I’d like to see how much progress you’ve made on the island while I’m gone. Maybe a tour when I return?”
She stood, wrapping her arms around me, her warmth seeping into the cold. “Be careful. Come back soon.”
I kissed her, deep and promising, whispering against her lips, “I love you, My Maneskin.” My light, fragile but fierce, the light I’d kill for.
Zora watched, arms crossed, her badass smirk in place. “I’ll look after her. Don’t worry your pretty head.”
“You’re stronger than me?” I teased, signaling to the challenge in her eyes.
She grinned. “Damn right. Go fix your mess, brother. We’ve got this.”
~
The flight was a blur, the jet’s hum a counterpoint to the storm in my mind. Elias met me at the airstrip, his face ashen. “Mr. Marcus is in the study.”
I nodded, the mansion a looming beast as I drove up, gravel crunching under tires.
Father’s office door was ajar. I planted the device I asked Victor to arrange.
It was a measure to keep an eye on Marcus.
The device was a tiny microphone hidden in a pen holder, battery life weeks, quickly, seamlessly.
The door opened behind me, “Keith,” he said, his tone measured, almost amused.
“You’re early. That’s rare. I assume Elias told you what happened. ”
I kept my expression neutral, taking a seat across from him. “He did.” I folded my hands, forcing calm into my voice. “Ray’s dead.”
Marcus’s lips curved, faint and sharp. “Disappointing, but necessary.”
I leaned forward slightly. “Necessary? A man drowned in our pond with his skull cracked open. That’s not an accident.”
He raised a brow, feigning surprise. “You’re emotional. You always were soft when it came to the help. The boy was stealing from me, Keith. Rifling through my private documents, documents that could’ve compromised this family. I gave him a chance to speak, to tell me who sent him.”
“And when he didn’t?”
He met my gaze evenly, no flinch, no remorse. “Silence has a price.”
My jaw clenched. Every word was a match against gasoline, but I couldn’t let the fire show, not yet.
“You questioned him?” I asked.
Marcus nodded, leaning back, steepling his fingers. “I asked who he was working for. He refused to talk. So, I reminded him what happens to disloyalty. He ran. But I caught up.” A faint smile ghosted across his face, pride in the efficiency of his cruelty.
I stared at him, voice low. “You beat him to death.”
He shrugged. “Let’s call it a demonstration. One less problem.”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with tension, heavy with all the words I couldn’t say. You killed him because he knew about Mother. About the empire. About you.
Finally, Marcus sighed, rising with deliberate calm, walking toward the globe bar in the corner.
He poured himself a drink, the liquid catching the light.
“Don’t look at me like that, son. You think I built all this with kindness?
This world isn’t run by saints, it’s run by survivors.
” He swirled the drink, turning to face me.
“And survival sometimes means getting your hands dirty.”
I stood, stepping closer, voice low and dangerous. “There’s a difference between dirt and blood, Father.”
He smirked, sipping his whiskey. “Only for those who still believe they can stay clean.”
I turned, heading for the door before the rage in me cracked the mask.
“Son,” Marcus called, and I paused, hand on the doorknob. “Remember, family first. Always.” I didn’t answer.
Anton was waiting in the hall, leaning against the wall with his usual nonchalance, a glass of something dark in hand. But the moment our eyes met, his smirk faded. “You look like you’re about to murder someone,” he said quietly.
“Maybe I am,” I muttered, brushing past him.
He followed, falling into step beside me. “What happened in there?”
“Ray’s dead,” I said flatly. “Father’s doing.”
Anton froze mid-step, his voice low. “You sure?”
“He admitted it.”
I left the mansion and went inside the car. I activated the device, Anton’s voice crackling: “I’ve got intel on the Butcher.” Mystery hanging like smoke. What did Anton know?