Chapter 4 - THE SHADOW OF THE BROTHER
The next morning, the estate felt like a powder keg waiting for a match. The rain had stopped, but a thick, oppressive fog rolled off the ocean, swallowing the grounds.
I was sitting in the solarium, a cup of black coffee turning cold in my hands. The doors swung open, and Julian walked in. He was flawlessly dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his hair slicked back, a confident, predatory smile on his handsome face.
“Morning, brother,” Julian said smoothly, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the silver carafe. “Heard there was a little excitement in the dining room last night. The new housekeeper’s kid gave Dante a scare?”
I watched him. Every movement. Every micro-expression. The way his eyes scanned the room, calculating, always calculating.
“She just wanted to sit in the chair,” I said, my voice deliberately flat. “She’s young. She doesn’t know.”
Julian’s face softened into a mask of perfectly rehearsed sympathy. He walked over and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “It’s disrespectful, Leo. You shouldn’t have to deal with that. I’ll have them fired and off the property by noon. You need peace, not reminders.”
“No.”
Julian paused, his hand stiffening slightly on my shoulder before he withdrew it. “No?”
“They stay,” I said, looking up at him. “The house is too quiet, Julian. Maybe it’s time there was a little noise.”
A flicker of something dark passed through Julian’s eyes—a microscopic twitch of a muscle in his jaw. “If that’s what you want, Leo. But be careful. You let the help get too comfortable, they start thinking they belong.”
“Speaking of belonging,” I casually shifted the conversation, picking up my tablet. “I was reviewing the ledgers for the Southside ports. The margins are unusually high this quarter. You’ve been running them efficiently.”
Julian smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. “I do what I have to do for the family. You focus on healing, brother. I’ve got the streets under control.”
“I know you do,” I replied. “By the way, do you still have that pendant I gave you? The silver wolf?”
The silence that followed was absolute. The grandfather clock in the hallway seemed to tick louder. Julian lowered his coffee cup, his eyes locking onto mine. The easygoing brotherly facade cracked for a fraction of a second, revealing the cold-blooded serpent beneath.
“Of course,” Julian said smoothly. “It’s locked in my safe at home. Why do you ask?”
“Just nostalgic,” I lied, matching his cold stare with an empty one of my own. “It represented loyalty. A rare commodity these days.”
“The rarest,” Julian agreed. He checked his gold Rolex. “I have a meeting with the union bosses. I’ll check in tonight.”
As Julian walked out of the solarium, I knew the timer had started. He was smart. He knew my question wasn't random. He would go home, realize his pendant was missing, or remember he had given it to David Bennett as a collateral token, and he would know that I knew.
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The war had officially begun, and it was going to be fought inside the walls of my own home.
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