“… Bastian?”
I turn to find Sage wheeling out of his room, dressed in a button-down and jeans that actually look ironed. His hair is combed. He’s wearing cologne. He stops short when he sees me. “What are you doing here? I thought you had the gala.”
“I do. I did.”
His brow furrows. “Then why?—”
“Where are you going?” I interrupt.
“Lilah’s picking me up in a minute. We’re going to an arcade.” He wheels closer and squints at me. “Basti, what’s wrong?”
Everything. Nothing. I don’t know anymore.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Bull-fucking-shit.” Sage’s jaw sets in that stubborn way that reminds me he’s got my blood running through his veins.Izotovblood. “You look like someone just ran over your dog. So either tell me what’s going on, or I’m calling Eliana.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I snarl with venom.
His eyes widen at my outburst. “Bastian, brother, what the hell happened?”
“Nothing happened. I just—” I drag a hand through my hair. “I need to handle some things.”
“What things?”
Things like whether I’m willing to murder a stranger to save my empire.
Things like whether I’m my brother’s keeper or his accomplice.
Things like whether the man Eliana thinks she loves even exists, or if I’ve just been playing dress-up in a life that was never meant to be mine.
But I can’t say any of that. Definitely not to Sage. He’s supposed to be the one good thing I’ve managed not to destroy.
Apropos of nothing, I flash back to the night of the accident.
Sage was eight years old, buckled into the passenger seat. He’d begged me to take him for a drive out of the city. I’d been working so much, so many long nights, and the guilt of not being there for him was killing me, so I caved.
And since we were out, I wanted to make him happy. He’d been dealt a tough fucking hand, this little brother of mine. I wanted to see him smile for once.
“Faster, Basti!” he’d shouted, grinning so wide his whole face lit up. “Come on, faster!”
So I did. I pressed the accelerator and watched the speedometer climb. Fifty. Sixty. Seventy.
Sage threw his hands up like he was on a roller coaster, laughing that wild, free laugh that all children inherit as a birthright until the world rips it away. He was happy.Happy. For once in his difficult little life, he was just a kid having fun.
I didn’t see the black ice until we were already on it.
The car fishtailed. I yanked the wheel, overcorrected. We spun in a full circle before slamming sideways into a telephone pole.
Then—
Metal crunching. Glass shattering. Sage’s scream cutting off mid-breath.
When the world stopped spinning, I crawled through the wreckage. The driver’s side door had crumpled like tinfoil, but I forced myself through the shattered window, ignoring the glass tearing bloody chunks out of my palms.
Sage hung motionless in his seat, head lolled forward, blood streaming from somewhere I couldn’t see.
“Sage!” I bellowed through a hoarse, smoke-scarred throat, fumbling with his seatbelt. “Sage, come on.”
