Chapter 5 - The Confession in the Dark
I crossed the room in three long strides, grabbing the front of Nicholas’s silk shirt and hauling him out of his chair so violently the mahogany desk chair tipped backward and crashed to the floor.
"Explain," I snarled, my fist balling up inches from his face, the veins in my neck bulging with murderous intent. "Explain why your IP address is pulling audio archives from my daughters' rooms every single night."
Nicholas didn't struggle against my grip. He just stared up at me with those cold, glassy eyes—eyes that looked entirely alien to the brother I had raised, protected, and funded for thirty years.
"Because someone had to prepare them for the truth, Dominic," Nicholas whispered, his voice dripping with a sickening, calm mockery. "Someone had to let them know that the monster who got their mother killed wasn't some faceless cartel soldier from Queens."
My grip tightened until the fabric tore beneath my knuckles. "What are you talking about?"
"Think about it, brother," Nicholas laughed softly, a dry, grating sound that made my blood run cold. "Who gave the Mendozas the exact GPS coordinates of Isabella's SUV that afternoon? Who told them which route she took to preschool every Tuesday at precisely 2:15 PM?"
The world stopped spinning. The air rushed out of my lungs as if I had been hit by a freight train.
I stared down at my brother, my mind violently rejecting the equation, even as the cold, hard pieces locked together into a terrifying picture I had been too blind to see.
"You," I breathed, the word barely audible. "You sold them out."
"I didn't sell them out, Dominic," Nicholas corrected, his smile widening into something truly demonic as he reached up and pried my fingers away from his shirt with surprising strength. "I partnered with them. Because father left the entire empire to you, while I got an allowance. And I figured out a long time ago that the only way to take the throne was to let your enemies do the heavy lifting—and make sure you blamed yourself for the fallout."
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He took a step back, smoothing down his shirt, his eyes gleaming with triumphant madness.
"And the best part?" Nicholas whispered, stepping toward the open window where the rain beat a steady rhythm against the glass. "Lucia doesn't just think you killed her mother, Dominic. She has proof. Proof that I left right where she could find it tomorrow morning."
