Ashford House burned beautifully.
That was the first thing I thought when I saw flames reflecting in the tall windows.
Victor had returned there before us.
He had gathered the last men still loyal to him and Nolan.
Then he had opened my weapons room.
My fortress had become exactly what Elena warned me it would become.
A monument to fear.
Federal agents surrounded the estate.
Victor had taken three members of the household staff hostage.
He demanded me.
Claire stood beside the command vehicle with a bandage around her head.
“You’re not going inside alone.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
I almost smiled.
Six weeks earlier, I barely noticed the maid who lowered her eyes around armed men.
Now she argued with me in front of federal tactical teams.
“You need medical attention.”
“So do you.”
“I’m not the one who was beaten with a surgical lamp.”
“You were shot at.”
“Tuesday.”
“That was yesterday.”
“Long week.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Claire stared at me.
Then she laughed too.
The sound shocked us both.
A federal commander approached.
“We can send a team.”
“He’ll kill the hostages.”
“We cannot authorize you—”
“He wants me.”
Claire interrupted.
“He also wants the ledger destroyed.”
“It can’t be.”
“He may not believe that.”
She looked toward the house.
“I go with him.”
“No,” I said.
Claire turned.
“Nathaniel—”
“No.”
“You don’t own decisions anymore.”
The commander looked between us and wisely remained silent.
Claire stepped closer.
“Elena trusted me with one thing.”
“My daughters.”
“Yes.”
“And you nearly died for them.”
“So did you.”
“That isn’t an argument.”
“It is when you’re making the same mistake.”
I looked toward Ashford House.
Then back at her.
“Fine.”
She blinked.
“Fine?”
“You come.”
“You agreed too quickly.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
We entered through the front doors unarmed.
Victor waited in the ballroom.
The chandelier above him glittered through smoke.
He had always loved dramatic rooms.
Three staff members knelt near the fireplace.
Two gunmen stood behind them.
Victor held a pistol.
“You brought the doctor.”
“Former doctor,” Claire said.
He smiled.
“I’ve always admired your refusal to die.”
“I get that a lot.”
Victor looked at me.
“Where are the girls?”
“Somewhere you’ll never find.”
“Emma remembers me.”
“Yes.”
“Children remember incorrectly.”
“She remembers enough.”
His face tightened.
There it was.
Fear.
Not of me.
Of a six-year-old child telling the truth.
“The ledger is released,” I said. “Nolan is alive. He’ll testify if it saves him.”
“Nolan is weak.”
“You hired him.”
“So did you.”
I had no answer.
Victor smiled.
“You see, Nate? You keep pretending we are different.”
“We were.”
“Were?”
“I’m trying to become different.”
He laughed.
“Men like us don’t become better.”
Claire spoke.
“Sometimes they do.”
Victor turned toward her.
“And what do you know about men like us?”
“Enough to know they usually say that because change would require admitting they had choices.”
Silence.
Victor’s smile vanished.
Then he shot Claire.
I saw the muzzle flash.
Claire fell.
Something inside me exploded.
But this time, I did not charge Victor.
I dropped beside Claire.
“Claire.”
She grabbed my coat.
“Vest.”
I nearly collapsed.
She had worn body armor.
Victor stared.
That one-second distraction was enough.
Claire pulled a small smoke canister from beneath her jacket.
The ballroom disappeared in white haze.
Federal teams entered through three windows.
Gunfire erupted.
I dragged Claire behind a marble column.
The hostages crawled away.
Victor ran.
I followed.
Not because of revenge.
Because I knew where he was going.
The family floor.
Elena’s room.
He reached it first.
I found him standing beside the old balcony doors.
A pistol in his hand.
The room remained almost exactly as Elena left it.
I had never had the courage to change it.
Victor looked at her photograph.
“She loved you.”
I stopped.
“Yes.”
“She pitied you too.”
“Maybe.”
He looked surprised.
The old me would have fought the insult.
The old me had been easy.
Victor raised his weapon.
“I hated that.”
“What?”
“That she kept believing you could become better.”
His eyes filled with something I had never seen in my brother.
Pain.
“You got everything.”
“You were Father’s favorite.”
“I didn’t want Father.”
The truth landed between us.
He looked toward Elena’s photograph.
My blood turned cold.
“You loved her.”
Victor laughed softly.
“I offered her a way out.”
“She rejected you.”
“She chose you.”
“And you killed her.”
His face hardened.
“She threatened everything.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“She threatened the story you told yourself.”
His gun lifted.
I stopped.
“You believed you deserved the empire. Elena proved you were stealing from sick children to finance it. She saw what you were.”
“Shut up.”
“And she chose me anyway.”
“Shut up!”
He fired.
I moved.
The bullet struck the doorframe.
I hit his arm.
The weapon fell.
We crashed through the balcony doors.
Rain soaked us.
He punched me.
I struck back.
Again.
Again.
Until he slipped near the railing.
Victor fell halfway over.
I caught his wrist.
For a moment, my brother hung above the stone courtyard.
He looked up at me.
“You won’t save me.”
I tightened my grip.
“Yes, I will.”
His face twisted.
“Why?”
“Because my daughters are going to hear how this story ended.”
Federal agents reached the balcony.
They pulled Victor up.
Handcuffed him.
Alive.
I stood in the rain.
Claire appeared behind them, holding her ribs.
“You saved him.”
“I hated every second.”
“That still counts.”
The fire department contained the blaze before it destroyed Ashford House.
By dawn, Victor was in federal custody.
Nolan had agreed to cooperate.
The ledger had exposed a network stretching through four states.
Dozens of arrests followed.
I knew my own freedom was uncertain.
I had committed crimes.
Real ones.
I was not going to pretend otherwise.
So before sunrise, I called my attorney.
Then I called the federal prosecutor.
And I offered everything.
Records.
Names.
Accounts.
Routes.
Businesses.
Twenty years of secrets.
Claire listened.
When I ended the call, she said, “That could send you to prison.”
“I know.”
“For years.”
“I know.”
“What about the girls?”
“I’m hoping cooperation changes that.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
I looked toward the stairs.
Emma stood there with Harper and Ava.
All three had heard.
I swallowed.
“Then they deserve a father who finally tells the truth.”
Emma walked toward me.
She slipped her hand into mine.
“Are you coming home?”
I knelt.
“I’m going to try.”
She looked at Claire.
Then back at me.
“Claire helps.”
I smiled.
“Yes.”
Claire wiped tears from her eyes.
Emma placed my hand into Claire’s.
Then she said something that made Harper laugh through tears.
“You both need fixing.”
For once, nobody argued with her.
---