The Mysterious Arrival
1379 Words
Miles sniffed. “It’s already hard.”
Jaxon rolled his eyes. “Jesus, this is pathetic.”
Joshua’s voice dropped an octave. “Careful, Jaxon.”
Jaxon smirked. “Or what? You’ll punch me again?”
Miles stepped forward, trembling but furious. “Leave him alone!”
Jaxon ignored him. “Let’s be real, Joshua. You’ve been milking pity points for years. Acting like you’re the secret mastermind behind Rowland Enterprises. Guess what? Nobody cares.”
Joshua’s fists curled. “Say one more word, Jaxon.”
Jaxon sneered. “Fine. One more word: Goodbye.”
Without thinking, Miles picked up a glass of water from the coffee table and hurled it directly into Jaxon’s face.
Water exploded across Jaxon’s expensive blazer. He staggered backward, sputtering.
“You little piece of;” Jaxon lunged, but Joshua was suddenly there, grabbing Jaxon by the shirtfront and shoving him back into the couch.
“Sit. Down.” Joshua’s voice was lethal.
Meredith shrieked, “Joshua, stop it! You’re acting like a thug!”
Joshua barked, “This is the Rowland penthouse. Not the George living room. Jaxon doesn’t get to come in here and disrespect Miles or me.”
Bianca, voice trembling, said, “Joshua… it’s not worth fighting…”
Joshua ignored her, turning back to Miles. He gently pried the credit card from Miles’s hand and pushed it back into his pocket.
“Keep it. You’re gonna need it for your meds and your follow-up scans. I’m fine.”
Miles tried to protest, but Joshua squeezed his shoulder. “No arguments. You’re the only person in this house who didn’t treat me like an outsider.”
Miles’s lip quivered. “Josh…”
Joshua offered a small, genuine smile. “Thanks, little man.”
Bianca suddenly spoke, voice soft. “Joshua… I’m sorry.”
Joshua stared at her, eyes blank. “For what?”
Bianca hesitated. “For… everything. For how this has turned out.”
Joshua let out a short, bitter laugh. “Don’t apologize for getting what you want, Bianca. That’s what people like you and Jaxon do best.”
Bianca’s eyes filled with tears. “That’s not fair…”
Joshua snapped, “Fair? You show up, claim your title, and shove me out the door. Tell me how that’s fair.”
Charles stepped forward. “Joshua.”
But Joshua held up a hand. “Don’t. I’ve heard enough speeches for one lifetime.”
Meredith crossed her arms. “So that’s it? You’re just going to leave? No gratitude? No goodbye?”
Joshua stared at her. “Goodbye.”
Meredith flushed. “You heartless boy.”
Joshua shouldered his duffel again, glancing once more at Miles. “Take care of yourself, kid. Don’t let them talk you into skipping your follow-ups.”
Miles choked out, “I’ll call you.”
Joshua nodded. “I’ll answer.”
He turned toward the door.
Meredith hissed after him, “Don’t you dare take our car service. You’re on your own now.”
Joshua shot her a look over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t dream of using your precious limo.”
And he opened the penthouse door, stepping out into the crisp Manhattan night.
The air outside Empire Heights was cool and smelled faintly of wet asphalt, though the sky above Midtown Manhattan was clear and starlit.
Joshua Rowland pulled the penthouse door shut behind him with a quiet click.
For a moment, he just stood there on the polished marble landing, staring at the reflections of city lights glimmering in the glass façade across the avenue.
He felt… weightless. Like the floor might drop out from under his feet.
Eighteen years in the Rowland home. Over in a single evening.
He tightened his grip on his duffel, took a deep breath, and started walking toward the elevators.
He punched the button with more force than necessary.
Ding.
The doors slid open. Joshua stepped inside, alone. As the elevator descended, he caught glimpses of Manhattan at night through slivers of glass in the walls, a glittering sea of lights, neon signs, and dark canyons of streets far below.
He thought of Miles. The tears. The card. The water splash that drenched Jaxon George.
He almost smiled. Almost.
By the time the elevator hit the lobby, his face was a mask again.
He strode across the massive lobby of Empire Heights, ignoring the marble sculptures and gold-leaf ceiling. The doormen eyed him as he passed, curious but silent.
Outside, the chill slapped him in the face like a challenge. Taxis roared past in yellow blurs. Limos idled at the curb, their drivers gossiping in low voices.
Joshua dropped his bag on the sidewalk and pulled out his phone.
“Uber…” he muttered under his breath, swiping through apps.
Before he could tap the screen, an engine’s low growl rolled through the night like distant thunder.
A sleek, black sports car turned the corner and glided toward the curb, headlights flashing white across Joshua’s face.
He squinted against the glare, raising a hand to shield his eyes.
The car slowed, brakes hissing softly, and came to a perfect stop right in front of him.
Joshua frowned.
The car was low and predatory-looking, its matte black paint swallowing the streetlights. The rims were custom-forged, glinting silver, and the engine purred like a big cat waiting to pounce.
Joshua stared at it.
“That’s… definitely not an Uber.”
For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then the driver’s side door popped open.
A man stepped out.
At first glance, he looked like a total mess.
He wore black cargo pants and a wrinkled gray hoodie half-zipped over a plain T-shirt. His hair was dark and a little too long, scruff covering his jaw. Deep shadows underlined intense eyes that were locked on Joshua like laser sights.
Despite the tired look, he moved with a fluid confidence that didn’t match his disheveled clothes.
Joshua took an involuntary step back, instinctively sizing the guy up.
The man stopped about five feet away.
“You Joshua Rowland?” he asked, voice low and slightly raspy.
Joshua blinked. “Depends who’s asking.”
The stranger gave a half-smile. “Name’s Xavier. Xavier Gregory.”
Joshua’s brow furrowed. “Gregory…?”
Xavier nodded slowly. “I’m your brother.”
Joshua froze.
“…My brother.”
“Yeah.” Xavier jammed his hands into his hoodie pockets, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I know I look like s**t. Long day. Sorry.”
Joshua stared at him. “Okay, hold on. You can’t just show up in a Batmobile and say ‘I’m your brother.’ That’s not how this works.”
Xavier’s grin widened. “Batmobile. Nice. Gotta tell Kenny that one. He’ll love it.”
“Who the hell is Kenny?” Joshua demanded.
Xavier waved a hand. “Our fifth brother. Tech genius. Likes to tinker with cars. Built this one.”
Joshua sputtered. “Our… fifth… brother?”
Xavier scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. There’s… seven of us.”
Joshua stared. “Seven. Brothers.”
“Yup.”
Joshua held up both hands. “Time out. Time OUT.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I just got disowned by the only family I’ve ever known. Now some scruffy guy in a supercar tells me I have seven brothers?”
Xavier chuckled. “Trust me, I didn’t expect to meet you like this. I was wrapping up a surveillance op. Didn’t have time to change.”
Joshua blinked. “Surveillance…? Are you a cop or something?”
Xavier lifted a brow. “Technically. But not NYPD. I work for a different… unit.”
Joshua narrowed his eyes. “Different how?”
Xavier leaned closer and said quietly, “Let’s just say I help catch the kind of people who make Wall Street bankers look like choirboys.”
Joshua gaped at him. “You’re in law enforcement?”
Xavier gave a lopsided grin. “International. I’m with Interpol’s Special Unit A. Captain, technically.”
Joshua just stared. “This is a joke. It has to be a joke.”
Xavier tilted his head. “Think I’d be wearing this hoodie if I wanted to impress you? I smell like a bus station. And I’ve been awake for thirty-six hours.”
- Writer
