The Gathering of Heirs

The estate was breathtaking, the kind of place you only saw in glossy magazines or in movies about the impossibly wealthy. Rolling lawns stretched out in every direction, dotted with sleek, modern sculptures. The sprawling mansion at the center glittered with lights, every window revealing glimpses of an opulent world most people couldn't even dream of.

This wasn't my scene, and I knew it the second I walked in.

I lingered near the edges of the main hall, nursing a drink that tasted far too expensive for my liking. The room was packed with the kind of people my parents admired—young, accomplished heirs and entrepreneurs, all here to show off their successes and charm the room. People gravitated toward Dorian the moment he walked in, like moths to a flame.

And then, she arrived.

Elena always had a way of commanding attention without even trying. Tonight was no exception. She walked into the room with an air of confidence, her posture straight, her gaze steady, and her outfit—a sleek black gown—perfectly tailored to make her look both powerful and elegant.

People noticed. Heads turned. Whispers spread like wildfire.

"Elena Carlisle," someone murmured near me, their tone a mix of awe and envy. "She's the CEO of her father's company now. Youngest in the firm's history."

I couldn't help but feel a pang of admiration mixed with something more bitter. She deserved every bit of the respect she commanded. She always had. But seeing her now, so poised and successful, only reminded me of how far I still had to go.

Then she spotted us—me and Dorian—and her face lit up.

"Leonard? Dorian?" she called out, weaving her way through the crowd toward us.

Dorian was the first to respond, of course. He stepped forward, all smiles and charisma. "Elena! It's been far too long."

The two of them hugged briefly, and I watched as Dorian immediately launched into a conversation about her work, asking all the right questions, his tone equal parts admiration and intrigue.

"You've been killing it as CEO," he said, gesturing with his glass. "I mean, the press can't stop talking about you. How are you managing it all?"

Elena laughed, a soft, melodic sound. "It's been a whirlwind, but I've got a great team. And honestly, it's about staying focused on the bigger picture. You know how it is."

I couldn't tell if she was being modest or genuinely downplaying her success. Either way, Dorian ate it up, and the two of them fell into an easy rhythm.

I stood there, silent, awkward, trying not to feel invisible.

Eventually, Elena turned her attention to me.

"Leonard," she said warmly, her eyes locking onto mine. "It's so good to see you."

She stepped closer, leaving Dorian behind, and for a moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the room.

"You too," I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

"You've been keeping a low profile," she said, tilting her head slightly. "What have you been up to?"

The question was innocent, but it hit me like a punch to the gut. What had I been up to? How could I possibly answer that when Dorian was right there, shining like the star he always was?

"Oh, you know," I started, fumbling for words. "Just... working on a few things here and there."

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn't push. Instead, she smiled and said, "I've missed you. Do you remember those summers we all spent together as kids? Running around the garden, playing hide-and-seek?"

I smiled despite myself. "Yeah. You always won."

"Only because you two let me," she teased.

That memory opened something inside me, and for the first time that evening, I felt a little less on edge. She had a way of drawing me out, making me feel seen.

I couldn't ignore the difference in how she interacted with me versus Dorian. With him, it was all polished and professional—a conversation between equals, two people who had already climbed the mountain and were comparing notes at the top.

With me, it was different. More personal. More... human.

But even that felt like a double-edged sword. On one hand, I appreciated her effort to connect with me. On the other, it only highlighted how far apart Dorian and I really were. She saw him as someone to admire, someone who matched her stride for stride.

And me? I was someone she had fond memories of.

I caught glimpses of it in her eyes—a quiet understanding, a sense that she saw more than she let on. She must have noticed the tension between me and Dorian; it was hard to miss. But she didn't mention it, didn't press.

Instead, she kept the conversation light, steering us toward safer ground.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders, Leonard," she said at one point. "Don't sell yourself short."

It was a kind thing to say, but it felt hollow. I didn't need kind words. I needed proof that I could stand on my own, that I wasn't just "Dorian's brother."

After Elena moved on to mingle with other guests, I found myself retreating to the edges of the room again. Dorian, of course, was still in the thick of it, charming everyone within earshot.

I watched him for a while, my drink untouched in my hand.

Elena had been kind. Genuine, even. But her presence only served to remind me of how far I was from the person I wanted to be.

As the night wore on, I slipped out of the gathering unnoticed. The estate was beautiful under the stars, the kind of beauty that felt almost cruel in its perfection.

I found a quiet spot away from the noise and pulled out my phone, scrolling aimlessly through messages and photos. One picture caught my eye—it was an old one of me, Dorian, and Elena, taken years ago during one of those summer vacations she'd mentioned.

We were laughing, carefree, the world still full of endless possibilities.

I stared at it for a long time, the weight of the evening settling over me like a shroud.

"I'll get there," I whispered to no one in particular. "I'll find my way. Somehow."