Chapter 3 - THE BROTHER WHO WANTED MY EMPIRE
My younger brother, Adrian Cross, had spent his entire life believing I stole something that belonged to him.
We were only four years apart.
But our father raised us as if we belonged to different worlds.
I was the heir.
Adrian was the spare.
I received business lessons.
He received expensive toys.
I learned how to read contracts.
He learned how to spend money.
When our father died, I inherited control of the organization.
Adrian inherited a generous trust and a collection of resentments.
For twenty years, I'd tried to keep him away from the dangerous parts of the family business.
He called it humiliation.
I called it survival.
Apparently, he'd decided to settle the argument permanently.
"Why would Adrian involve my medication?" I asked.
Alina looked down.
"Because he knows about your heart."
I stared.
"Everyone knows about my heart."
"Not everyone knows what happened three years ago."
The room went silent.
I felt a cold pressure behind my ribs.
Three years earlier, I'd suffered a cardiac emergency after collapsing during a meeting.
The doctors found a serious condition requiring surgery.
I'd survived.
Barely.
Only a handful of people knew the full details.
Adrian.
Marcus.
My physician.
And the surgeon.
I looked at Alina.
"What do you know?"
She hesitated.
"My husband worked at the hospital."
I frowned.
"I thought you were widowed."
Her expression changed.
"I am."
"His name?"
"Daniel Reyes."
I searched my memory.
Nothing.
She continued.
"He was a pharmacy technician. He noticed irregularities in records connected to your treatment."
My pulse quickened.
"What irregularities?"
"He believed someone had accessed information they weren't authorized to see."
I stared.
"Did he report it?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
Alina looked at me.
"He died eleven days later."
Her husband had been killed in a traffic collision.
The driver fled.
The investigation remained unresolved.
Alina believed the timing was suspicious.
She had no proof.
But before Daniel died, he left her a sealed envelope.
Inside were notes about unauthorized access to medical records and a name.
A. CROSS.
I stared at the paper.
My brother.
"Why did you come to work here?" I asked.
Alina looked toward the doorway.
"Because I wanted to know whether my husband died because of something connected to you."
The answer hurt.
Not because she suspected me.
Because she had every reason to.
I looked down.
"And what did you find?"
Her voice trembled.
"People who were afraid of Marcus."
I waited.
"And a little girl who noticed what everyone else ignored."
That evening, I called Adrian.
He answered on the third ring.
"Big brother."
His voice was cheerful.
Too cheerful.
"Adrian."
"To what do I owe the honor?"
"I need to see you."
He laughed.
"Finally decided to share the throne?"
I stared through the window.
"Something like that."
He paused.
"Where?"
"My house."
"Tomorrow?"
"Tonight."
Silence.
Then he said:
"You're sounding unusually serious."
I looked at the untouched glass of water beside my desk.
"Adrian."
"Yes?"
May you like
"Bring your attorney."
He stopped laughing.
