I meet his eyes. “This is what inheritance looks like, son. This is the price of the empire you claim to despise.”
He stares at me. The mark on his cheek is deepening to purple.
“You want me to prove I’m not like you,” he summarizes slowly, dumbfounded. “By becoming exactly like you.”
“I want you to prove you understand what’s at stake.” I knock him aside and go toward the door. “The Pierce woman is a problem. Problems get solved. If you can’t handle that… then you’re no son of mine.”
With that, I leave him behind me and go back inside.
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The whispers start Monday morning and they don’t
