“You never were,” Magnus added.
Vidar’s laughter cut off. “You think you can say itand make it true?”
Leif folded his hands. “We’re saying it because itistrue.”
Vidar stared at them, then snatched the packet off the table. “This is bullshit.” He ripped it open, papers scattering as he scanned the contents. His face drained of color. Then flushed. Rage cracked through him.”No,” he snarled. “No. This is wrong.”
“I’m guessing our suspicion has just been confirmed,” Leif stated.
Vidar’s hands shook as he looked up. “It was pointless,” he spat. “All of it.”
“What was?” Alaric asked.
Vidar’s mouth twisted. “The file. Rebecca. Bjorn.”
For an instant, the room froze. Alaric didn’t react outwardly, but the sequence locked in his mind with cold clarity. File meant motive for erasing the truth. Rebecca meant method—how problems were removed. Bjorn meant outcome. There was no version of that list that ended any otherway.
“Say that again,” Magnus said softly.
Vidar went white. The color drained from his face so fast it was startling, his expression turning frantic as he realized—too late—that he’d said one thing too many. He tugged at his tie as if it were suddenly choking him, breath coming harder, beads of sweat breaking along his hairline and tracking down the edges of hisface.
“I didn’t kill him,” he insisted.
Alaric didn’t move. “We didn’t say you did.”
Vidar’s breath hitched. His focus darted, wild now. “You can’t put this on me. Rebecca’s fall was convenient.” The word landed with care. “Accidents happen.” His gaze slid toward Alaric, calculating. “And if Sera continues to be a problem,” he added coolly, “she won’t remain one. I’ve already shown how easily accidents can be arranged.”“
Leif stood. “You acted.”
“I protected this family,” Vidar shouted.
“You murdered its head,” Magnus said. His voice was low, stripped of heat, but the words carried everything Vidar had just admitted. Not just Bjorn. The planned wreck. The attempt to take Alaric and Sera off the board in one violent stroke. This wasn’t damage control. It was execution.
Silence followed.
Leif looked at his brothers. He didn’t speak. Magnus didn’t either, his restraint tight and contained, like something held behind his teeth. Alaric said nothing at all, his stillness absolute. For a beat, the substance of what had just been revealed hung in the room, heavy and absolute.
“Erasure,” Leif said atlast.
Magnus didn’t answer immediately. His mouth worked once, hard, as he stared at the space where Vidar stood, every muscle in his body coiled tight, fighting the raw, violent urge to cross the room and end the bastard with his bare hands. Then he nodded. “Erasure.”
Alaric had no hesitation. No pull. Nodoubt. “Erasure.”
The word settled, final as a door sealing.
Vidar let out a broken laugh as security moved in, hands closing on his arms. “You can’t do this.”
Leif’s voice was calm, unyielding. “We already have.”
Vidar twisted violently against the guards, anguish cutting through his fury. “If I’m erased, she should be too.” He jerked his head toward the door, eyes wild. “Sera. She knew what was happening. She went along with it every step of the way. Rebecca too. They’re just as guilty.”
Alaric finally moved. He leaned forward slightly, voice low and lethal. “I suspect you erased Rebecca already.” He held Vidar’s stare without blinking. “Just like our father. But you won’t erase Sera. She’s mine and I’ll do anything and everything to protect her.”
“You think erasing me fixes this?” Vidar snarled over his shoulder, eyes burning with fury. “It doesn’t. It just proves I was right.”He was escorted out, still shouting protests that echoed briefly, then faded.
When the door closed, the room felt emptier. Cleaner.
After a moment, Magnus asked, “What was in the file he erased?”
