Chapter 11 - Charles's Version of Love
Charles looked older in detention.
Not weak.
Just stripped of scenery.
No private office.
No art.
No assistants.
No family name engraved behind him.
He picked up the phone.
Adrian did the same.
“You found Rusk.”
“Yes.”
Charles closed his eyes.
“I always knew that coward would talk.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“You paid him.”
“I paid him to keep a family tragedy private.”
“You left Dad.”
Charles looked at him.
“He was gone.”
“Rusk says he was alive.”
“Rusk was fifty yards away.”
“You didn't call help.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Charles's face hardened.
“Because your father destroyed everything.”
Adrian stared.
“That's your answer?”
“No.”
Charles leaned closer.
“You think Jonathan was some saint.”
“I know he wasn't.”
“He controlled every decision.”
“Like you tried to do.”
Charles ignored it.
“When our father died, Jonathan received company control.”
“You received assets.”
“Scraps.”
“You received tens of millions.”
“He received the name.”
There it was.
Not money.
Status.
Ownership.
Charles continued.
“I built the family office.”
“You stole from it.”
“I grew it.”
“With Dad's money.”
“With my work.”
“And that made it yours?”
Charles stared.
“Yes.”
The honesty was almost shocking.
“Did you loosen the fuel line?”
Silence.
“Charles.”
“Yes.”
Adrian felt his stomach turn.
“Why?”
“I wanted him stranded.”
“In the Atlantic.”
“Nearshore.”
“There was weather.”
“It came faster than forecast.”
“You knew before he left?”
“No.”
“Did you warn him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I was furious.”
“And when you found him?”
Charles looked away.
“He was barely breathing.”
“So alive.”
“Barely.”
“You left him.”
“I thought he would die anyway.”
Adrian's hands shook.
“You don't know that.”
“No.”
“You took his watch.”
Charles looked back.
“He gave it to me.”
Adrian laughed.
A harsh sound.
“He was barely breathing but gave you his watch?”
“He grabbed me.”
“What?”
“He said…”
Charles stopped.
“What did he say?”
Nothing.
“Charles.”
His uncle looked suddenly haunted.
“He said, ‘Give it to Adrian.’”
Adrian stopped breathing.
The watch.
His father's last request.
Charles had kept it.
For nine years.
“Why?”
“I hated you.”
The bluntness was almost relieving.
“Why?”
“Because you became him.”
Adrian's eyes burned.
“You didn't give me the one thing Dad asked you to give me because I became successful?”
“Because every time I looked at you, I saw Jonathan winning again.”
Adrian almost pitied him.
Almost.
“You spent nine years trying to take control because you couldn't stand being second.”
Charles's eyes sharpened.
“I kept the family together.”
“You kept yourself in the center.”
“I protected assets.”
“You used them.”
“I created value.”
“You endangered Mom.”
“I never told Celeste to push her.”
“No.”
That mattered.
“But you created the plan that made Mom an obstacle.”
Charles said nothing.
“You hired Henry.”
“I retained him.”
“To document fake decline.”
“To document concerns.”
“You forged my signatures.”
“Martin handled documents.”
“You paid Celeste.”
“I compensated her for work.”
Adrian smiled sadly.
“Listen to yourself.”
“What?”
“You can explain anything if you change the nouns.”
Charles's expression turned hard.
“You'll lose everything.”
“No.”
“The acquisition is gone.”
“Yes.”
“Shareholders will turn.”
“Maybe.”
“The trust will be tied up for years.”
“Fine.”
Charles stared.
For the first time, Adrian saw fear.
Not because of prison.
Because Adrian no longer needed to preserve the empire at any cost.
That destroyed Charles's leverage.
“You don't mean that.”
“I do.”
“You're a Blackwood.”
“Yes.”
“Then act like one.”
Adrian thought of his father on the rocks.
Eleanor in the pool.
Celeste talking about accidents.
Martin calling fraud administration.
A family name used to justify silence over and over.
“I am.”
He hung up.
Charles slammed his fist against the glass.
Adrian walked out.
He did not look back.
Outside, Marcus was waiting.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“Henry Vale has been arrested.”
Adrian stopped.
“For?”
“Fraud and unlawful prescribing investigation.”
“Mom's medication?”
Marcus nodded.
“He altered two prescriptions over the past four months.”
Adrian's stomach dropped.
“What effect?”
“Potential dizziness. Confusion. Fatigue.”
The symptoms Celeste had been reporting.
They hadn't merely lied about Eleanor's decline.
They had been manufacturing it chemically.
One medication mistake.
One fall.
One accident.
May you like
Celeste's threat had not been hypothetical.
The process had already begun.
