“He treated you like a fucking king,” Erik spits, his voice breaking. “And you’re so power-hungry you killed your own father. Was he really that much of a threat to you?”
I scoff. “You still think I’m the villain?” I shake my head slowly. “He lied to you, Erik. To both of us.” I draw in a breath, grounding myself. “I went to see Mick Rowe.”
His head snaps up, fury blazing. “You what?”
“I had to know what was really going on,” I continue. “And he told me everything. How he was in love with our mother. How she was planning to leave.”
Erik’s hands curl into fists.
“Our father found out,” I say. “And if he couldn’t have her, he made damn sure no one else would.”
“He said she was weak,” Erik snarls. “Useless.”
“He said that because it was easier than the truth,” I reply. “She wasn’t weak. She was trying to escape him.”
I step closer. “He spent years trying to work out who she was leaving him for,” I continue. “Do you know how he finally figured it out?”
Erik shakes his head slowly.
“Blood tests,” I say. “Yours.” His brow furrows. Confusion flickers. “He made you kill your own half-brother,” I say, each word deliberate. “Knowing exactly who Isaac was. Knowing exactly who you were.”
Erik stares at me, mouth open, colour draining from his face.
“And then,” I add quietly, “he sent you after Leoni. Knowing whoshewas.”
My stomach turns as I say the words. “Mick Rowe,” I finish, “is your father.”
The room goes deathly still. And for the first time since our mother died, Erik looks like a boy who’s just realised his entire life was a lie. He stares at me like his body has forgotten how tofunction. His mouth opens. Closes. His hands come up, pressing into his temples as if he can physically hold his skull together.
“No,” he whispers. Then louder. “No. That’s not—”
His knees give out. He hits the floor hard, the sound sharp against the marble, and this time he doesn’t catch himself. He folds forward, elbows braced, head hanging like he’s been hollowed out from the inside.
“I knew it,” he says hoarsely. “I fucking knew it.” I don’t move, letting him speak. “He never looked at me the way he looked at you,” Erik continues, his voice breaking into something raw and ugly. “Not once. You were the heir. The golden boy. Everything you touched turned to something he could use. And I…I was his right-hand man. Clearing up the parts he didn’t have the balls to.” He lets out a laugh that borders on a sob. “And I spent my whole life trying to earn something that was never meant for me.”
My jaw clenches as I watch him fall apart.Just another casualty in my father’s wake.
“Do you know what that does to a kid?” he snaps, looking up at me now, eyes wild. “Growing up knowing you’re tolerated, not chosen? Watching him excuse everything you did while I was punished for breathing wrong?”
He shakes his head violently. “Maybe he always knew. Maybe deep down he knew I wasn’t his.”
His words hang between us, heavy.
“That’s why,” Erik goes on, his voice cracking completely now. “That’s why he pushed me harder. Why he never let me forget I owed him. Why he made me prove myself over and over.” His breath stutters. “And when he told me about Isaac, I thought that was my chance. He said your warnings were low impact and Isaac needed to know who was really running the show.” He scrubs his hands over his face. “I looked that kid in the eye andhe was fucking terrified. And I felt nothing, I just saw the chance to prove to him I could be what he needed me to be.”
I move slowly and crouch in front of him, lowering myself to his level.
“He didn’t make you kill him because you weren’t his,” I say quietly. “He made you kill him because he didn’t have the guts to, and he wanted to get to Mick.”
Erik looks me in the eye, searching…maybe he’s waiting for me to be cruel or give him a cutting remark, just like my father would have. Instead, I offer my hand.
He stares at it, his shoulders shaking as he fights his emotions. And then he takes it, and I haul him to his feet, pulling him to me. For a second, he doesn’t react, just stiffens, and then he sags against me. We stay like that for a few silent minutes.
When I eventually release him, he pulls back.
“We’re equal,” I tell him. “Not rivals. I will not let us become him and Toni.” I stare him dead in the eyes. “You have a choice now, brother.” His eyes flick to mine in surprise. “Because that’s what we are, Erik. Brothers. We always have been and we always will be. You can walk away from this life, build your own. Or you can stay and help me run Baxter Corporation.” He hesitates, his brows furrowing, and I know he wants to ask what his role will be, because now my father has gone, he doesn’t know how to fit.
“I want you to go to Italy for a few months.”
