Between Two Brothers

CHAPTER 18.

DARE'S POV

I slammed open, the heavy oak doors to my father’s private study at the Blackthorne estate with a force that rattled the crystal decanters on the sideboard. Rain lashed the tall windows behind him, mirroring the storm raging inside me. Victor Alistair Blackthorne didn’t flinch. He sat behind his massive desk like a king on his throne, reviewing documents under the glow of a green banker’s lamp, as if the world—and his son—bent to his schedule.

“You summoned pressure for me to settle down publicly,” I snarled, stalking forward. My fists clenched at my sides, knuckles white. “And now I hear whispers of an engagement? From the board? From you? What the hell are you playing at, Father?”

Victor set his pen down with deliberate precision, his sharp eyes lifting to meet mine. The same eyes that had orchestrated my exile to Spain, that had fed me lies about Isla until I’d become this—cold, ruthless, and dangerously obsessed. “Playing? I’m preserving our legacy, Darian. Something you seem intent on jeopardizing with your fixation on that Harlow girl.”

I slammed my hands on the desk, leaning in. “Her name is Isla. And she is not a ‘fixation.’ She’s the only thing in this godforsaken empire that feels real. You think parading me with some suitable socialite will clean up the gala mess? It won’t erase the fact that I won’t marry anyone else.”

Victor’s laugh was cold, devoid of humor. “Real? She’s a liability. A maid’s daughter entangled in decades-old secrets that could topple everything we’ve built. Stay away from her, Darian. She is engaged to Julian—has been, in all the ways that matter to the public eye. Your closeness to her will tarnish the Blackthorne image beyond repair. The board is already murmuring. Investors are questioning your judgment. One more scandal, and we lose leverage on the Mercer deal. On everything.”

“Engaged?” The word tasted like poison. Rage boiled hot in my veins. “Julian’s delusions don’t make it true. Isla is mine. She’s always been mine. You forced me into Spain, into Elena’s bed and those lies, but you will not force me away from her.”

Victor rose slowly, his presence commanding the room despite his age. “You sound like a fool. The same fool who nearly destroyed us once before with misplaced affections. Isla is a distraction at best. A threat at worst. Julian offers stability. A union that strengthens alliances rather than weakening them. You will step back.”

The study door opened without a knock. Julian strode in, rain-dampened but composed, as if summoned by the devil himself. His eyes flicked between us, a smug glint appearing when he registered my fury.

“Perfect timing,” Victor said smoothly, gesturing Julian forward. “Julian. I’ve just informed Darian of the necessity. Prepare for an official engagement announcement between you and Isla. The sooner, the better. It will quell the rumors and present a united front.”

Julian’s smile was slow and victorious. “I’ve never been so ready, Uncle. Isla knows I can give her the life she deserves—away from the manipulation and control. The documents I showed her today only confirmed it.”

Red flooded my vision. I rounded on him, grabbing his collar before I could think. “You showed her what? More of your forged ‘proof’? You’ve been poisoning her against me since the day I left, you bastard. She is not yours to claim.”

Julian shoved me off, straightening his jacket with a sneer. “Poison? I gave her truth: ,Spain, the signed deals. The way you let Victor erase her from your life. She’s considering my escape plan. Face it, Dare. You lost her the moment you chose power over her six years ago.”

I grabbed Julian's by his collar. "You psycho!"

“Enough!” Victor’s voice cracked like a whip. “Darian, release him. This infatuation ends now. Julian will announce the engagement within the week. You will publicly support it or step down from key operations. The choice is yours.”

I released Julian but didn’t step back, my chest heaving. The image of Isla in that blue gown at the gala, her fire when she pushed us apart, the way she’d stopped our heated kiss in the car—everything clashed with the thought of her wearing Julian’s ring. “You think you can force this? Threaten me with boardroom politics? Isla would never agree. She’s stronger than both of you give her credit for.”

Victor’s expression turned glacial. “Stronger? Then perhaps she needs stronger incentive. One word from me, and she’s sent away—far from London, far from your domain. A position overseas. Her mother’s restaurant quietly shuttered under new regulations. Assets frozen. You know I can do it, Darian. I did it to protect you from worse threats before. Don’t make me protect the family from you.”

The threat landed like a physical blow. Send her away. Erase her from my reach. The same way he’d isolated me in Spain. My hands shook with the effort not to lash out. Julian watched with barely concealed triumph, the smug bastard.

“You’d destroy her life just to control mine?” I said, voice low and dangerous. “After everything, you’d still play God with her?”

Victor didn’t blink. “I protect the legacy. Always have. Choose wisely, son. Or watch her disappear.”

Julian stepped forward, emboldened. “She’ll be happier with me. And safe too. Without your obsession weighing her down. Accept it, Dare. You had your chance.”

I looked between them—my father, the architect of my cage, and my cousin, the snake who’d helped build it. The rage simmered into something colder, sharper. Resolve hardened in my chest. They could threaten, scheme, announce whatever farce they wanted. But Isla was mine. Her fire, her resilience, the way she challenged me even as she set boundaries—I wouldn’t lose her again.

I straightened, adjusting my cuffs with forced calm. My voice cut through the tension like steel. “This isn’t over yet.”

I turned on my heel and stormed out of the study, the heavy doors slamming behind me. Rain pounded the windows of the long hallway as I descended the grand staircase, mind racing. Victor’s threats echoed loudly in my mind. Julian’s smugness fueled the fire. But beneath the fury was something deeper—regret for the man I’d become, fear of losing the only woman who had ever seen past the Blackthorne name.

But I was done playing by their rules.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.