I dropped Mimi off at her apartment and told her I’d come back later to check on her. Leaving her alone after all of this made me feel wrong. We may have only worked together, but I cared about her. She’s safe now, like Sara is, and for now, that's enough.
Fred doesn’t even flinch. The bastard sits at his dining table, calmly sipping what looks like expensive whiskey from a crystalglass. The setting is almost mockingly serene, with sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in a golden glow. Lush green plants thrive in every corner, giving the place a meditative quality that feels obscene given what we know about him.
“Joe, Liam,” he breathes, a smile spreading across his face. “This is unexpected—”
“Go Fuck yourself,” I spit, “Don’t pretend you didn’t know about my fake death. Don’t pretend you weren’t fucking delighted when you destroyed my life or when you ordered my brother getting shot.” His mouth hangs like the piece of shit he is.
My eyes wander across the space, taking in the astral maps and constellation charts lining the walls. The names of stars—Arcturus, Sirius, Vega. It’s like stepping into some cosmic shrine. And naming his yacht Velastra makes sense.
“You always had Mom’s taste,” I say coldly, nodding toward a detailed painting of the Andromeda galaxy. “She loved the stars, too. Too bad you could never make her see any.”
Fred’s eyes flicker with something—pain, perhaps—before hardening again. “Elizabeth understood the vastness of possibilities. Something your father never could.”
“Is that why you did this? Some twisted revenge because my father won her heart?”
“Your father didn’t win anything,” Fred snaps, and I realize this might be the only connection I’ll ever share with this man; both of us losing the woman we loved to our brother. But at least I can take comfort in one thing, unlike my father, Liam will never hurt Sara the way he hurt my mother.
Liam cuts him off, tired of the charade. “We know you’re trafficking girls through the Velastra.”
But Fred stays stoic, taking another sip of his drink when one of the hallway doors clicks open, and Tyler emerges. Everyone freezes. I feel as if something punches me in the gut.
What the hell is he doing here?
Liam had mentioned Tyler confirmed Fred was behind all of this. Also that he had been under a leverage he was holding over him and had no way out, but he failed to specify what kind of leverage Tyler was under, and why the fuck he was in his home.
Tyler’s eyes meet mine, then dart to Liam’s murderous glare.
“Ah yes, boys,” Fred says, setting down his glass. “Have you met Tyler?”
No one moves. The air in the room feels electric, dangerous. Tyler takes a few steps forward, his gaze unfaltering and especially pausing on Sara’s and I want to crack his head open. He leans against the kitchen island, studying us with that same calculating gaze we have on Fred and him. A standoff.
“That’s my son,” Fred suddenly blurts out, pointing at Tyler. “Well, technically,” he adds with a dangerous smile playing on his lips. My mind races, trying to process what he said.
“What do you mean, technically? How did we not know you had a son?” Liam asks, a ticking bomb about to happen as he approaches him to where he’s sitting, towering over him.
Fred is a good-looking, well-maintained older man, but Liam next to him is all muscles and lethal energy.
Fred’s eyes drift over to Sara, who’s gone pale beside me. “Well, let’s see. Sara, you have a way to get around Laurent’s... Can you sniff a brother when you see one?”
His laughter echoes through the room, demonic, and something snaps inside Liam when he lunges forward, grabbing Fred by the collar and slamming him against the table as the glass he’s holding in his hand shatters on the floor.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He growls, pressing his forearm against his throat.
Fred doesn’t struggle, despite Liam’s forearm pressing against his windpipe. That evil smile never leaves his face.
“Well, Tyler doesn’t know this, actually—” Fred chokes out, his eyes darting to Tyler, whose mask is slowly disintegrating. His eyes softening and I’ve seen that look before, in myself. “Son, I left out a bit of your story. I was waiting for a family reunion.” His smile creeps me out.
Liam eases the pressure slightly, enough to let the bastard speak. My stomach drops, sensing what’s coming.
“Your father—” Fred coughs, looking at Liam and then back to me, straining his neck, then continues, “had an affair with some whore, when she got pregnant and left him with the baby, he begged me to adopt him. He said he couldn’t risk his marriage, but really, he only cared about keeping your mother on a leash, and his reputation in the village.” Fred’s eyes gleam with malice. “I raised you as my own, Tyler...I also kept you a secret and raised you in Cannes. Now that we’re back in my home, in my territory in Saint-Tropez, it’s time for you to know the truth.” He pauses, and Liam lets him go, stumbling back as if he’s about to fall from the absorption of what this means.
Sara’s hand flies to her mouth, a small gasp escaping between her fingers.
Fred looks straight into Liam’s eyes. “I may be a piece of shit, Liam, but I stood by that kid.”
I freeze, my body turning to ice. The implications crash into me. Liam’s eyes lock, stupefied, with Fred's before he turns to look at Tyler and I can practically hear the gears turning in Liam’s head— he wanted to kill Tyler. He hurt Sara, stalked her, seduced her, trapped her… But blood means something…
He’s our brother, Tyler is our brother.
