CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 2 — WHAT SHE THOUGHT SHE DESERVED
One of the men grabbed Ethan by the front of his coat and forced him down onto one knee.
Not enough to break him.
Just enough to humiliate him.
That was Madison’s style.
She never destroyed anything when she could make it kneel first.
“Don’t touch the papers,” she said, stepping carefully around the wet pages in her heels. “He can crawl, but those stay mine.”
Ethan looked up at her through the rain.
“I’m your brother.”
Madison tilted her head.
“You were,” she said. “Then Dad made you richer.”
Ethan almost did not recognize her.
But that was a lie.
He did.
He recognized the girl who used to count Christmas presents and decide love by numbers.
The teenager who slammed doors when Ethan got into college first.
The woman who smiled at their mother’s funeral until someone mentioned that Arthur had asked Ethan to handle the insurance papers.
Madison had spent her whole life confusing trust with favoritism.
And Ethan had spent his whole life apologizing for being the one people called when things fell apart.
“Madison,” he said, keeping his voice low, “call them off.”
She crouched in front of him, careful not to let her coat touch the ground.
“Do you know what it feels like,” she whispered, “to sit in that house your entire life and watch everyone hand you the pretty room but give him the keys?”
Ethan’s chest rose and fell hard.
“Dad gave you everything you asked for.”
“No,” she snapped. “He gave me things. He gave you authority.”
The word came out like poison.
Behind her, one of the men picked up the folder from the pavement.
Ethan saw it and tried to stand.
The man shoved him back down.
Madison did not even flinch.
“That trust is mine,” she said. “This house should be mine. I know how to live in it. You only know how to fix what other people break.”
Ethan laughed once.
It hurt more than he expected.
“That’s exactly why he chose me.”
Madison’s face hardened.
Before she could answer, the mansion door opened.
Arthur Keller stood in the doorway with one hand gripping his cane.
He wore a robe over his dress shirt, his silver hair damp from the rain blowing in, his face pale with horror.
May you like
For a moment, he looked less like a powerful old man and more like a father watching one child destroy the other.
“Madison,” he whispered. “Stop this.”
