The silence in the control room was deafening.
The name still hovered in the air.
> Adrian.
A single letter on the screen.
A single man behind the chaos.
But the weight behind it… shook the ground beneath us.
James didn't speak at first.
He just stared at the flickering message.
I could see it — the tremble in his jaw, the storm behind his calm. Not fear. Not confusion.
> Guilt.
---
"Who is Adrian?" I asked softly.
James looked at me — not like the man I knew, but like someone who had just seen a ghost.
"My half-brother."
The air left my lungs.
"You told me your father remarried. That he had a second family."
"He did," James said, voice tight. "And Adrian was the crown jewel of that life."
---
Sixteen years ago.
A young James Windsor had met Adrian Montclair — the son of his father's second wife. Polished. Golden. Brilliant in all the ways their father admired.
Adrian was older by four years, already being groomed to inherit the Montclair-Windsor European Group.
But what started as brotherhood… twisted quickly.
James wanted a friend.
Adrian wanted a kingdom.
"He smiled at me in front of our father," James said, pacing. "Called me brother. Gave me advice. Took me drinking. Pretended we were family."
"And behind your back?" I asked.
"He was infiltrating my side of the empire. Stealing formulas. Manipulating investors. He even seduced one of my project leads to get into the Aether files — our first quantum prototype."
He paused.
"He got caught. But instead of reporting him, I told my father in private. I thought… I thought we could fix it quietly."
"And your father?" I whispered.
"He exiled me," James said. "Told me I was jealous. Cut me out of three companies. And Adrian got promoted."
My chest tightened.
"What happened after that?"
"I walked away. Built my empire from scratch. And promised myself I'd never look back."
---
Until now.
Until Adrian's ghost returned — not as a brother, but as the hand behind the blade.
"I should've killed the name back then," James said darkly. "I should've buried him."
I stepped toward him.
"No," I said firmly. "You did the right thing. You walked away. You became more than them. That's not weakness, James. That's strength."
He looked at me, eyes tired.
"But now he's back. And he knows every move I've ever made. Every weakness. Every—"
He stopped himself.
"What?" I asked.
He looked me dead in the eyes.
"You. He knows about you."
---
That night, we moved to the off-grid penthouse above Southbank — one of James's fallback locations. No staff. No cameras. No trails.
I stood by the window, staring at the river glinting below.
Behind me, James wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.
"I can't let him take you from me," he said softly.
"He won't."
"You don't understand. Adrian doesn't want money. He doesn't want control."
"Then what?"
He hesitated.
> "He wants to erase me. From the inside out."
---
A new message buzzed James's private tablet just before midnight.
No number. Just coordinates.
> Your empire began here, brother.
Let's end it the same way.
One move. One winner.
Tomorrow. Midnight.
— A
---