Chapter 24 I wake before dawn, my body still aching from yesterday's fight with Arson and what followed with Lilian in the forest. The Mill House is silent except for their breathing-my brother's deep and even, Lilian's soft and delicate between us. We'd stumbled back here after dark, exhausted but unwilling to separate. The three of us tangled together in my bed, a temporary sanctuary. The memory of her between us sends heat through my veins, but it's quickly doused by the cold reality seeping in with the pre-dawn light. Last night, drunk on lust and adrenaline, it seemed so simple. So right. The three of us against the world, forging something new from the ashes of all we'd destroyed. As consciousness fully claims me, so does clarity. And with it, suffocating guilt. I carefully extract myself from the tangle of limbs, pausing when Lilian stirs. She murmurs something unintelligible before turning into Arson's chest, seeking his warmth. The sight of them together-my brother's arm instinctively tightening around her even in sleep-makes my stomach twist with an emotion I can't name. Is it jealousy? Regret? Or something deeper and more corrosive? Standing in the half light, I study them. My brother's face, so identical to mine yet marked by years of torment I escaped. The scars are visible even in the dim light-physical manifestations of what our family did to him. What I allowed to happen. Beside him, Lilian looks impossibly fragile, her blond hair spilling across the pillow, dark lashes fanned against pale cheeks. Both of them are victims of my silence, my cowardice, and what will soon be my betrayal. I know what I have to do. What I've known since I woke up with the weight of my sins pressing against my chest, making it harder and harder to breathe. I dress silently, each movement deliberate. The decision crystallizes with every passing second. There's no other way. No chance for any of us to have a real future while we're running, hiding, and pretending the past can be buried. Some debts can only be paid with a sacrifice. I scribble a note-a lie about getting supplies-and leave it on the desk. One last mercy. Let them sleep a little longer before their world implodes. Again. The drive to my family's estate takes forty minutes, each mile adding another layer to the armor I'm building around my heart. By the time I reach the wrought-iron gates, I'm numb. Hollow inside and out. The guard recognizes me immediately, buzzing me through with a deferential nod. It's barely seven a.m., but I know Father will be in his study. He's always been an early riser, attacking the day like an enemy to be conquered. Patricia, too, will be awake, probably reviewing her social calendar over coffee on the terrace. The predictability of their routines used to suffocate me. Now it's the only certainty I can cling to. I park in front of the mansion, not bothering with the garage. I won't be staying long. The housekeeper opens the door before I can even knock, surprise flickering across her features. "Mr. Aries! We weren't expecting you today." I know she sees the differences in my body and in my face, but she doesn't comment. "Is my father in his study?" My voice sounds foreign to my own ears. Detached. "Yes, sir. Shall I share your arrival with him?" "No worries. I'll go up myself." The house feels cavernous around me, echoing with ghosts of a childhood fractured by lies. I climb the grand staircase, each step heavier than the last. The portrait at the landing catches my eye-the family portrait taken the year after Arson was sent away. My father, Patricia, Lilian, and me. Smiling as if nothing was missing. As if two whole people-my mother and Arson- hadn't been erased from our lives. I pause outside Father's study, hand hovering over the ornate brass handle. Once I open this door, there's no going back. After today, everything changes, everything ends. It needs to end. Has to. The lies. The running. The pretending. I push the door open without knocking. Father looks up from his desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, irritation flashing across his features at the interruption. It softens slightly when he sees me, but the wariness remains. We haven't spoken since my graduation, since I walked away without committing to the position he'd arranged at Hayes Pharmaceuticals. To be fair, I didn't have a choice once Arson took me captive. Not that I would have anyway. "Aries." His voice is cool, measured. "This is unexpected." "We need to talk." I close the door behind me, the soft click somehow more final than a slam. He removes his glasses, setting them carefully on the polished mahogany desk. "I assumed you'd call when you were ready to discuss your future with the company. Since you decided against going out of the country to handle the business I assigned you, I assumed you were falling back into old habits of dodging your responsibilities after months of actually being a son I can be proud of. So what do you want now, son? Money? To dig you out of something." He shakes his head in disgust. "I thought you were finally turning into the man I trained you to be." "This isn't about the company." I remain standing, hands clenched at my sides. Fists tight at the thought of Arson turning out to be the son he really wanted. Even if it was only the perfect act. "It's about Arson." The name lands like a grenade in the pristine office. Father's expression doesn't change, but I see it in his eyes-a flicker of shock, quickly masked by practiced indifference. "I don't know what you're talking about." "He's alive." The words tear from my throat. "Arson is alive, and he's been living as me." Father's gaze sharpens, assessing me with new wariness. "Sit down, Aries. You're clearly unwell." "I'm not sitting down, and I'm not unwell." My voice rises despite my efforts to control it. "Stop gaslighting me. I know everything. About the institution. About what you and Patricia did to him. About what really happened at the boathouse." For a long moment, silence stretches between us, taut as a wire about to snap. Then, with deliberate slowness, Father rises from his chair. "If you know all this, then you also know why it was necessary." It's insane how steady his voice remains, how emotionless he becomes. "Your brother was unstable. Dangerous. We did what was best for this family." Rage flares hot and bright behind my eyes. "Best for the family? You locked him away for eight years. Tortured him. You tried to erase him. All because he was inconvenient to your precious image." "He took the blame for your mistake." Father's eyes narrow, calculating. "Isn't that what truly bothers you, Aries? Not what happened to him, but your own guilt?" There's a deadly accuracy to his statement, and I flinch, unable to hide the truth of it. "Yes." The admission costs me, each word torn from somewhere vital. "It was my fault. I was showing off. I froze when it went wrong. Arson stepped in to protect me, like he always did, and I let him. I let you take him away. I let you hurt him." "Okay, and what do you want to do about it now?" Father's voice is dangerously soft. "Surely, you didn't come here to confess your sins?" "I've come to end it." I meet his gaze unflinchingly. "All of it. The lies. The cover-up. The⁠-" The study door opens, and Patricia glides in, elegant as always in a cream silk blouse and tailored pants. Her gaze widens fractionally at the sight of me, then narrows with suspicion. "Richard? What's going on?" Her gaze slides to me. "Aries. What an unexpected surprise." I can feel her eyes scanning me, her face filling with confusion at what I can only assume is my altered appearance. "Perfect timing," I say, bitterness coating each syllable. "We were just discussing family secrets. Specifically, how you helped orchestrate my brother's disappearance." Patricia doesn't flinch. She doesn't even blink. Instead, she closes the door with a soft click and moves to stand beside my father in a unified front. "I see." Her voice is cool, controlled. "This is nothing more than an accusation." "It's not an accusation if it's true." I feel strangely calm now, detached from the hurricane of emotions raging inside me. "Arson is alive. He escaped the institution you sent him to. He's been impersonating me, planning his revenge." "If this is true," Father says carefully, "then he's a threat that needs to be contained. Again." The clinical way he says it-like Arson is a problem to be solved rather than a son who was wronged-makes my skin crawl. Yet it's exactly what I expected. He's so caught up in his need to ensure the secrets he buried stay there. Whatever is the quickest and most efficient way to keep it all under wraps. "Yes," I agree, the word tasting like ash. "He's dangerous. More than you know." Patricia studies me, head tilted slightly. "Why are you telling us this now, Aries? After all this time?" Fuck me. Here it is. The moment of betrayal. I force myself to meet her gaze, to speak the words that will damn us all. I can't take this back, but it means the game is over, and if all goes well, the three of us-Arson, Lilian, and I-will be the ones left standing. I can only hope they will forgive me for setting things in motion without them. "I'm telling you because I know where he is." My voice doesn't waver. "And I'm willing to help you deal with him. Permanently." "In exchange for what?" Father's question is immediate, his business instincts never failing. "In exchange for my rightful place as heir to Hayes Pharmaceuticals." The lie comes so easily it's scary, but it's what they expect me to say. "No more discussions about my future. No more conditions. I take my position as COO immediately, with full autonomy over the research division." Father and Patricia exchange a look-measuring, calculating. I can almost see the wheels turning behind their eyes. The threat Arson poses to their carefully constructed world versus the benefit of having their golden child back in the fold. "There's more," I continue, pressing my advantage. "Lilian knows everything. She's been helping him." Patricia's perfectly composed facade cracks slightly at this. "Lilian? My Lilian?" "Yes." Another betrayal, another knife thrust. The easiest way to sell a lie is to use the truth as a buffer. "She found evidence in the attic. Medical records. Payment receipts. Enough to destroy Hayes Pharmaceuticals if it ever went public." Father's jaw tightens. "Where are they now? Arson and Lilian?" "Not so fast. I want my position secured in writing. Right here, right fucking now." I hold out the paperwork I drafted this morning and drop it down onto the desk. "What is this?" Richard asks, eyeing the papers suspiciously. "My protection. I won't disappear like Arson did." Richard looks from the papers and then back at me, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. "Full control of your inheritance, and your position as COO secured. Is that all you want? You could have had that at any time by showing up at the office." I shrug. "I could've, but I wasn't ready then. I'm ready now. Sign the papers, and I'll give you the information." "We should have a lawyer look this over," Patricia comments, and I glare at her. "To have a lawyer take a look at this means lost time, and lost time could be the difference between catching them or chasing them forever. But sure, go ahead, call a lawyer." "That's nonsense, Patrica." My father shakes his head and grabs the paper, scribbling his name on the signature line. Patricia blinks, looking nervously at the documents, skimming her cold gaze over me and Richard as if she's waiting for something else to happen. "Now, tell me where they are." "Of course." I tuck the papers away in my back pocket. "The Mill House. My old dorm room." I check my watch with deliberate casualness. "They're sleeping. If we leave now, we can be there before they wake." "You're certain they have these...documents with them?" Patricia asks, a tremor finally breaking through her collected demeanor. "Oh yes! Lilian has been hiding them." I force a cold smile. "She's not as fragile as you led everyone to believe, Patricia. In fact, she's quite resourceful when properly motivated." The barb lands, Patricia's lips thinning to a hard line. Father moves to his desk, pressing a button on his phone. "Jenkins, prepare the car and call Hansen. Tell him I need his security team to meet us at Oakmount University. The Mill. Immediately." "We're doing this now?" Patricia asks, already moving toward the door. "Of course, what better time than the present?" Father's voice is steel. "We need to contain the situation before it escalates further." "Understandably, but you're only as good as your plan. If we have a plan, then we can be better prepared for what might take place." Father rolls his eyes at her, and it's the first crack in their united front. Pin them against each other. They're so much alike that it's easy to cause problems. "Nonsense, they're basically children. Arson is dangerous, yes, but by using the element of surprise against him, he won't be prepared to fight back." I don't bother telling them that there is no preparation for him. He's been ready for a fight since the moment they put him in that cage. My only hope is he sees this as the opportunity he needs to get revenge. I follow them from the study, down the grand staircase, and out to the waiting Town Car. Each step makes me feel like I'm sinking deeper and deeper in quicksand. There's a hollow pit where my stomach should be, emptiness spreading through my veins like poison. This is necessary, I tell myself as we slide into the back seat, Patricia beside me, Father facing us. This is the only way to make things right. I spent so long being a coward, being a victim, letting my father control me, giving up my wants and desires. Even if it hurts, even if it's scary, it's what must be done. The car pulls away from the mansion, tires crunching on gravel before hitting the smooth asphalt of the main road. Father makes calls the entire drive, speaking in clipped, coded phrases about retrieving assets and containing liabilities. Patricia stares out the window, her profile sharp against the morning light, one manicured hand tapping a restless rhythm against her knee. I close my eyes, trying to block out the voices, the dawning horror of what I've set into motion. If this backfires and Lilian gets hurt...fuck, I will never be able to forgive myself. Images flash behind my eyelids-Arson's face, battered but alive with something like hope as we tracked Lilian through the forest. Lilian's eyes, wide and vulnerable as she surrendered to us both. The promise of something new, something real, that existed between us for one perfect night. All of it ash now. All of it sacrificed on the altar of my guilt and fear. Of my need to make things right. No. I can't think like that. If it means they survive, then it's worth it. I know Richard better than any of them. With his paranoia and the suspicious meeting he had with Arson, it's only a matter of time before he brings everything crashing down on us all. I needed to accelerate things. It isn't long before we arrive at the Mill House just as the campus is beginning to stir with life. Early risers heading to breakfast or the library cast curious glances at our procession. The driver parks the car at the end of the driveway, and we climb out. Father leads the way, his stride purposeful, Patricia a half step behind, her heels clicking on the pavement like an impending countdown. I hang back slightly, each step heavier than the last. My heart pounds so loudly I'm certain everyone can hear it-a drum signaling the execution that's about to take place. We reach the front door, and I punch in the entry code with numb fingers. Will they understand? Will they see what I'm trying to do here? Or will they condemn me like before, them against me? Father nods to me, impatience oozing from every pore. "This way," I say, leading them up the stairs and down the hall to my old bedroom door. I hesitate, key in hand. Behind this door are the two people who, against all odds, have shown me what it means to be seen, to be known. I'm about to destroy them both. If only for a second, until the dust settles and I can explain myself to them. "Open it," Father commands, voice low but sharp. With my heart in my stomach, I do just that. The door swings open onto the dimly lit room. They're still in bed, tangled together, Arson's arm protectively draped over Lilian even in sleep. For one frozen moment, no one moves. Then as he can sense a change in the air, Arson's eyes snap open. In a flash, he's alert and aware of the threat lingering just a few feet away. In one fluid motion, he's sitting up, shoving Lilian behind him as he takes in the tableau at the door-me flanked by Father and Patricia. "Aries?" Lilian's voice is thick with sleep, confusion clouding her features as she peers around Arson's shoulder. Then her gaze lands on my father, on Patricia, and understanding dawns with devastating clarity. "No..." "I'm sorry," And I've never meant the words more than I do right now. "I didn't have a choice." Arson's penetrating gaze locks on mine, and the betrayal that I see there cuts me deeper than any knife could reach. There's no surprise or anger. Just betrayal, that's so loud it feels as if it's a living, breathing thing. It's like he's been expecting this all along. "Of course you didn't, Brother," he says, voice flat. "I should've known, should've anticipated this." Lilian's expression is worse-naked betrayal, shock giving way to a hurt so profound it physically pains me to witness. Tears well in her eyes but don't fall. She's too strong for that, even now. "Why? How could you do this? You said we were in this together," she whispers. "You promised." I open my mouth to explain, but I can't. Not yet. Father steps forward, his presence filling the small room like a thundercloud. "Arson. It's been a long time." "Not long enough, Richard." Arson's voice is ice, his posture deceptively relaxed despite the tension I can see coiled in every muscle. "I see you've finally come to deal with your dirty little secret." "And I see you've corrupted my daughter," Patricia interjects, her gaze flicking dismissively over Lilian's disheveled appearance, the obvious intimacy of the scene we've interrupted. Lilian laughs, the sound brittle and sharp. "Your daughter? Strange how I'm your daughter now, but any other time I'm an unnecessary nuisance. Please be honest, we all know I was never anything but an accessory to you. A prop for your charity work." "We can discuss family dynamics later," Father cuts in. "Right now, we have more pressing matters. The documents, Lilian. Where are they?" "Documents?" Lilian tilts her head to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Don't play dumb," Richard growls. "The records. The items you stole." Lilian's chin lifts, defiance blazing through her hurt. "Oh, those documents." She nods her head ever so slightly. "You will have to kill me if you want them." Patricia steps forward, hand raised as if to strike her, but Arson moves with lightning speed, catching her wrist before the blow can land. "Don't," he warns, voice deadly quiet. "Touch one fucking hair on her head and I won't hesitate to break every bone in your body." The tension in the room ratchets up to an unbearable level. "Enough!" Father's command freezes everyone in place. "This ends now. Arson, you're coming with us. Lilian, too. We'll sort this out at home, away from prying eyes." "We aren't going anywhere with you," Arson challenges, still holding Patricia's wrist, his grip tight enough to make her wince. "Nor can you make us." Father's smile is cold, calculated. "Of course I can't make you do anything, but I know people who can. Let me give the police chief a call. Report you for identity theft, fraud, and kidnapping. How long do you think it would take them to connect you to all of this? Especially with Aries's statement about kidnapping and forced imprisonment. " Arson's expression doesn't change, but I see the calculation behind his eyes. He's cornered, and he knows it. Whatever move he makes now puts Lilian at risk. "Fine," he says finally, releasing Patricia with deliberate slowness. "Lilian stays out of it, though. She's innocent." "No," Lilian protests immediately, gripping his arm. "I'm not leaving you." "How touching," Patricia sneers. "I'm afraid that's not an option. You're both coming home. Now." I stand frozen at the door, watching as a security team moves in, Father issuing clipped instructions about transporting them separately and securing the room for evidence. Watching as Lilian's fearful gaze finds mine one last time, silently pleading for an explanation, for help, for anything but this betrayal. I do nothing. Say nothing. The perfect Hayes son, falling in line when it counts. Arson is the last to be led out, flanked by two burly guards. As he passes me, he pauses, leaning in close enough that only I can hear his whispered words. "I hope it was worth it, Brother, because I won't be dumb enough to fall for your betrayal a third time. Next time, I'm ending you." I have nothing to say. I deserve his anger, his hate. In an instant, he's gone, marched down the hallway with Lilian toward the common room. I remain in the doorway of my empty dorm room, surrounded by the wreckage of what might have been. The sheets still warm from their bodies. The air is still heavy with the scent of them. The promise of a fresh start, of redemption-all of it gone. At least for now. I've made my choice. I'll let Richard and Patricia think I've chosen the path of least resistance, the devil I know over the uncertain future Lilian, Arson, and I might have forged together. I've chosen to be the heir, the golden child, the survivor rather than the savior. Soon enough, they'll learn I've really chosen to beat them at their own game. I turn away from the empty room, from the ghost of possibility that lingers there, and follow my father down the hallway. Back to the life I was groomed for. Back to the cage I've chosen for myself. Behind me, on the rumpled bed, lies Lilian's inhaler. Forgotten in the chaos. Small and insignificant, yet suddenly the most important object in the world-her lifeline, abandoned. Like her. Like Arson. Like the person I might have become if I'd found the courage to choose differently all those years ago. I take a deep breath because they have to get out of the Mill House to do anything that might hurt Arson or Lilian, and I don't plan on letting them leave without making them first pay for their own sins. Drew steps into the hall, his hair disheveled. "What's going on?" I wave him back. "Stay out of sight up here. I'll handle this for now. If I need you, I'll call for you guys." Drew nods and steps around me toward Lee's door. "Then handle it. We'll be listening." I nod once, my heart in my throat. Drew nods back. "I'm here for you. We're all here for you. All three of you."