Chapter 2
My father stared at me like I had become a stranger in his own house.
Maybe I had.
For thirty-five years, I had been his quiet son.
The obedient one.
The one who signed papers, attended dinners, smiled beside people I hated, and let my father speak over me because peace felt easier than war.
But Lily was trembling in my arms.
Her missing shoe lay halfway down the stairs.
And my aunt Celeste stood beside the banister with her hand still raised from shoving my child.
Peace died in that foyer.
“Adrian,” my father said, “think carefully.”
“I am.”
His eyes flicked toward the guards behind me.
“You all serve me.”
Marcus answered, “We serve the head of the family.”
“I am the head.”
“No, sir,” Marcus said. “Not since the transfer was signed.”
Celeste gasped.
My father’s face hardened.
“That transfer was private.”
I laughed once.
It sounded nothing like me.
“You signed it after your stroke. You said I would handle business while you recovered.”
“Temporarily.”
“You made it permanent.”
His jaw tightened.
Lily lifted her wet face.
“Daddy, can we go home?”
That broke something in me.
This mansion was supposed to be her home too.
The place my mother loved.
The place where Lily chased sunlight through the garden.
Now she asked to leave it like it was a monster.
I kissed her forehead.
“Yes, baby.”
My father stepped down one stair.
“No one leaves until I say so.”
Every guard behind me shifted forward.
My father stopped.
For the first time in my life, I saw him understand that fear had changed sides.
Celeste pointed at Lily.
“That child is the problem. Ever since her mother died, Adrian has lost focus.”
My grip tightened.
“Do not mention Emma.”
Celeste smiled.
“Your wife was weak too.”
I handed Lily to Marcus.
“Take her outside.”
Lily cried, “Daddy.”
“I’m right here,” I said. “I promise.”
Marcus carried her toward the door.
Celeste moved to block them.
May you like
I stepped in front of her.
“Touch my daughter again,” I said, “and family will not save you.”
