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“Our name?” I let out a sharp, dry laugh. “You framed me for a multimillion-dollar fraud. You were going to let me rot in a cell so you could cover up Jesse’s incompetence while giving Oliver Thorne the chance to take King Corp from us anyway. How is that preserving the name?”

“You think you have the high ground?” Dad’s eyes narrow. “You benefit from what I built, and you have the gall to complain about the methods?”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snap, leaning forward. “You did it because someone needed to take the fall, and you decided that someone should be me. You put yourself, Jesse, and the company before your firstborn, so don’t talk to me about legacy. It’s all bullshit.”

Something in his eyes flickers. Not regret. Just the realization that he failed at his own game.

“Are you here for an apology, Sebastian?” he asks. “Because you’re not going to get one. I did what a father is supposed to do. I protected the heir who needed it.”

“Jesse isn’t your heir. He’s your victim, just like I was. But you know what? It doesn’t matter anymore, because you’ve lost everything, including your sons.”

His jaw tightens. The loss of the money hurts him more than the loss of his freedom.

“I’m here to tell you two things,” I continue. “First, after the board meeting, you will never see me, Aaron, or Jesse again. You’ve lost your place as a member of the King family, and you have no more influence. The board is going to vote you out, and whether or not they vote me in, your time is over.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Julian hisses. “The King name⁠—”

“Having you as part of the King legacy is a stain, and you don’t deserve to wear it,” I snap, then take a deep breath. “Second, the world is better off with you rotting in here.”

Dad stares at me, his face contorting into a mask of fury. “You’re nothing without me, Sebastian. You’ll find that out soon enough. My blood runs through your veins. You’re just like me. You’re going to end up alone.”

“Maybe I will end up alone,” I say, standing up. “But let’s be clear—I am nothing like you.”

I signal to the guard that I’m done. I turn and walk away without looking back. I can feel Dad’s gaze on me as I leave, as he realizes I’m no longer under his control.

Agent Mercer is waiting with Isabella on the other side of the door. They’re both watching me curiously, waiting for me to say something.

“Did you get what you needed?” Mercer asks.

“Yes.”

She hangs back to finish up some paperwork while Isabella and I head out into the summer sunlight. It feels extra bright after being in the subdued darkness of the detention center. For a moment, I let my head fall back and close my eyes, focusing on the warmth and nothing else.

I half expect Isabella to be gone when I open my eyes, but instead, she’s standing beside me, her honey-colored gaze meeting mine.

“Did you get what you needed?” she repeats Agent Mercer’s question. But it’s different coming from her.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t even know what I was expecting, or why I even came. I could have just as easily avoided ever seeing him again.”

She remains quiet, letting me talk it out.

“I definitely didn’t expect an apology. He didn’t try to deny what he’d done either. I suppose I wanted to see his face when I told him he’s lost everything: his family, his place at the company, his part in our legacy. The only thing that got any kind of reaction was when I told him he was a stain on the King name.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you.” Her words are soft, with an ache that surprises me.

“The thing is, I’m not sure he did.” I run a hand through my hair. “It caught me off guard, sure. But I suppose I always knew he was capable of something like this. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of if, but when.”

My father had never loved me. I’ve known that since I was old enough to understand what love from a parent should be like. I was a means to an end for him, an heir to the empire, someone to carry on the family name and run the company after he was gone. But in the end, I was one of three sons, and I became disposable, my father only caring for me as a pawn to use as he wanted.

“How did he end up this way?” I wonder out loud.

Isabella takes a breath. “Sebastian, there’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been trying to find the right⁠—”

“It doesn’t matter how.” I cut her off without meaning to, staring back at the doors I just walked out of. “Whatever I am, it ends with me. He made sure of that. No King after me is ever going to sit across a metal table from his father in a place like this.”

Something crosses her face, fast and raw, and is gone before I can name it. Her hand drifts toward her stomach and then drops.

“I need to get back to the office,” Isabella says. She starts to turn, then pauses. “Are you okay?”