The Weight of Blood
1125 Words
The news broke across every network by morning.
COLBY O’CONNELL ARRESTED FOR MURDER OF HIS BROTHER
THE BILLION-DOLLAR MARRIAGE ENDS IN SCANDAL
Every headline was another knife twisting into the O’Connell family’s reputation.
The mansion was a frenzy of phone calls, lawyers, and panic. The grand hallway that once echoed with business meetings now carried the sound of muffled sobs and broken tempers.
Rita sat at the head of the dining table, her hands trembling as she clutched a handkerchief. Across from her, Richard O’Connell (Liam and Colby’s uncle) spoke in a calm, almost rehearsed tone.
“I’ve already contacted our legal team,” he said smoothly. “We’ll hire the best defense attorney in the country. But we need to move carefully. The press smells blood.”
Rita’s voice was barely a whisper. “He didn’t do it, Richard. He couldn’t have.”
Richard placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Of course not. But we must appear cooperative. The police claim they have evidence, his fingerprints, his proximity. Until we know what they truly have, we can’t risk a misstep.”
Across the table, Marcel. “Find whoever you need,” he muttered. “Money isn’t the issue. My son’s life is.”
Richard nodded slowly, hiding the small, victorious flicker in his eyes.
Everything was unfolding exactly as he’d planned.
At the Morell estate, Anika had returned home after the arrest, the weight of her father’s expectations pressing down on her like a physical force. The moment she stepped inside, the air turned electric, full of judgment and barely-contained fury.
Alexander Morell was pacing the living room, still in his suit, tie loosened, face flushed. Her three brothers Julian, Morgan, and Ethan stood behind him like a wall.
“Do you have any idea what kind of chaos this has caused?” Alexander barked. “Two families, two empires, and the entire board calling me every hour demanding answers!”
Anika crossed her arms, her voice cold. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before forcing me into that marriage.”
“Watch your tone,” Julian snapped. “You married a murderer, Anika. What did you think would happen?”
Her jaw tightened. “I didn’t want to!”
Damian cut her off with a snort. “Oh, please. The O’Connells are poison. I told you that years ago.”
Ethan stepped forward, glaring at his older brothers. “You don’t know that. Colby’s not…”
“Don’t defend him!” Julian snapped. “He killed our sister’s fiancé!”
Anika’s voice cracked. “Stop it, all of you!”
The room fell silent for a moment. Her eyes glistened, but her expression stayed hard.
“I don’t care what happens to Colby,” she said quietly. “He can rot in that cell for all I care. I won’t be visiting him. I won’t play the grieving wife. He took Liam from me.”
Her father exhaled slowly, his frustration shifting into cold calculation. “That’s not how this works, Anika. The press already knows you’re married. If you distance yourself now, they’ll tear both families apart. You will visit him.”
“I won’t,” she said firmly.
Alexander’s tone sharpened. “You’ll do what’s necessary. Not for him, for us.”
Anika turned away, refusing to meet his eyes. Her hands trembled, but she wouldn’t let them see it.
“I’ve already lost the man I love,” she said softly. “Don’t ask me to stand beside the man who killed him.”
Later that night, while the Morell mansion buzzed with tension, one person slipped quietly out into the rain, Ethan.
He was only twenty, still carrying that raw mix of idealism and defiance his siblings had long outgrown. Where the others saw power, he saw people.
He couldn’t shake the memory of Colby’s face as he was dragged away — not guilt, but shock. Fear. Confusion.
And something about it didn’t fit.
He arrived at the police station after midnight. The air smelled of disinfectant and coffee, the corridors echoing with distant murmurs.
The guard at the desk eyed him skeptically. “You family?”
Ethan nodded. “Brother-in-law. Ethan Morell.”
A few minutes later, he was led to the visitation room. Cold metal walls, a table, and a pane of glass between them.
Colby sat on the other side, unshaven, his hands cuffed. The fluorescent light cast hard shadows under his eyes.
When he looked up and saw Ethan, surprise flickered across his face.
“Didn’t think anyone from your family would come,” he said hoarsely.
Ethan sat down. “I didn’t come for them. I came because I don’t believe you did it.”
Colby studied him for a long moment, searching for deception. There was none.
“You were there that night,” Ethan said quietly. “Tell me what really happened.”
Colby exhaled, the memory burning behind his eyes. “I followed them because I saw someone watching from the tree line. I thought it might’ve been paparazzi at first, but something felt off. When I reached the clearing, Liam was already on the ground. I saw the flash, a gun going off, but by the time I got there, whoever it was had already ran. I picked up the weapon. That’s when Anika saw me.”
Ethan frowned. “And you’re sure you didn’t see who it was?”
“No,” Colby said. “But whoever it was knew what they were doing. They used a .45, same kind my father keeps locked in his study. And now somehow, my prints are all over it.”
Ethan leaned forward. “You think you were set up.”
“I know I was.”
For a moment, neither spoke. The rain outside tapped softly against the window, like a heartbeat.
Ethan finally said, “I’ll help you.”
Colby blinked. “You’ll what?”
“I’ll help you find out who really killed him,” Ethan said. “I don’t care what my father or my brothers say. Something about this doesn’t add up.”
Colby looked at him, a flicker of relief breaking through the exhaustion. “You’re just a kid, Ethan. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
Ethan smirked faintly. “Neither do you. But if you’re innocent, I’ll prove it.”
Colby nodded slowly, the first spark of hope igniting behind his eyes since the night his brother died.
“Then we start with the one person who benefits from all this,” he said. “Because someone wanted me out of the picture.”
“Who?” Ethan asked.
Colby’s voice dropped, quiet but certain.
“My uncle, Richard.”
- Writer
