Chapter 7 - THE BROTHER WHO WANTED EVERYTHING
Caleb Gallagher arrived at the estate on a Thursday afternoon.
Not secretly.
Not with an army.
He drove through the gates in a silver sedan and stepped out wearing a tailored navy suit.
Sadi watched from the entrance.
He was handsome in a way that resembled Desmond.
Same eyes.
Same jaw.
But his smile was colder.
“Miss Sadi,” he said.
She folded her arms.
“Caleb.”
“You know me.”
“Your reputation arrived first.”
He laughed.
“Then my brother's been talking.”
“Not as much as he should.”
Caleb's smile faded.
Desmond waited inside the study.
The brothers faced each other across the room.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Caleb looked at the wheelchair.
“I heard you were recovering.”
Desmond's expression remained still.
“I am.”
“Doesn't look like it.”
Sadi stepped forward.
“Recovery doesn't have one appearance.”
Caleb looked at her.
“Excuse me?”
She smiled sweetly.
“You heard me.”
Desmond almost laughed.
***
Caleb demanded the archive.
He claimed their father had promised him access.
Desmond refused.
“You don't want records,” he said. “You want leverage.”
Caleb leaned forward.
“That's what Father taught us.”
“Father taught us a lot of things worth forgetting.”
Caleb's eyes hardened.
“Easy for you to say. You inherited everything.”
Desmond looked at him.
“And what did it cost me?”
Caleb glanced at the wheelchair.
For a moment, something like guilt crossed his face.
Then it disappeared.
“You always thought you were better than me.”
“No,” Desmond said. “I thought I was responsible for you.”
Caleb laughed bitterly.
“You were responsible for Lily too.”
The room went silent.
Desmond's face drained.
Sadi watched Caleb carefully.
He wasn't merely angry.
He was hurting.
And he wanted Desmond to hurt more.
***
After Caleb left, Desmond sat alone for hours.
Sadi eventually brought him dinner.
He hadn't touched lunch.
“You need to eat.”
“Not hungry.”
“Then have a few bites.”
He looked at her.
“Do you ever stop?”
“Only when I'm asleep.”
He smiled faintly.
Then his expression changed.
“Caleb was right about one thing.”
Sadi sat opposite him.
“What?”
“I inherited everything.”
“And?”
“I never questioned why.”
She waited.
Desmond looked toward the family portrait above the fireplace.
“My father built an empire by making people afraid. I spent fifteen years making sure nobody forgot that.”
Sadi swallowed.
“Do you regret it?”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
The answer surprised them both.
Desmond continued.
“I used to think regret was weakness.”
“And now?”
He looked at his wheelchair.
“Now I know weakness has nothing to do with whether a man can stand.”
Sadi smiled sadly.
“No. It doesn't.”
***
That evening, Detective Harris called.
Investigators had uncovered payments from Caleb's companies to the transport contractor involved in the second bombing.
The transfers were suspicious.
But there was no direct evidence Caleb had ordered either attack.
Desmond listened.
Then asked:
“What about Vale?”
Harris paused.
“Dr. Vale received payments from the same holding company.”
Sadi looked up.
The doctor.
The man who had touched Desmond's wheelchair without asking.
The man who had treated the Gallagher family for years.
Desmond's expression hardened.
“Find him.”
Harris answered:
“We're trying.”
Sadi felt cold.
“Trying?”
The detective continued.
“His office is empty.”
Desmond closed his eyes.
May you like
Vale had disappeared.
And somewhere, Caleb was still demanding the archive.
