Chapter 51 51

Chapter 51 51
IRIS QUINN

I sat behind my desk at Quinn Enterprises, staring at a document I’d read three times without absorbing a single word. My mind was anchored in my mother's hallway, her voice looped in my head: Come back when you've done some damage.

I stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Below, the city sprawled, indifferent to the wreckage of my family.

Then you decide, Caesar had told me. Whether their belief is worth more than your survival.

But he didn't understand. Survival wasn't even the question anymore. Choosing to work with Caesar meant hurting my mother. Going against him would strip away whatever fragile safety I had—if I even had any at all.

A light tap on the door pulled me back. I turned to find Aaron standing in the doorway like he had every right to be there.

I walked around the desk, my posture rigid. “What are you doing here?”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I came to talk to an old friend. Is that so bad?”

“Get out before I forget we were ever friends.”

He tucked his hands into his pockets, that same easy smile on his face. “You really are Mrs. Laurent now. Look at you, chasing me away.”

I pointed at the door. “Leave.”

“Are you mad at me because Victor found out about the contract?”

“It's irritating,” I said, stepping into his space, “that you're acting like he found out instead of admitting you told him.”

Aaron didn't flinch. “Fair point.”

“What did you gain from it?” I demanded. “What was worth stabbing me in the back?”

He moved around me, walking behind my desk to pick up my pen. He twisted it absentmindedly between his fingers, his eyes drifting. “I’m going to be honest with you,” he said. “For old times' sake.”

I stayed silent, arms crossed, waiting for the lie.

“Coming back to this country was never my plan,” he continued. “Not until I saw something one day. After getting rejected from a yet another job interview.”

I frowned. “What did you see?”

“Your husband, Iris.” He set the pen down with a quiet click. “I saw Caesar.”

“What does that have to do with you betraying me?”

“It’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?” Aaron’s voice hardened. “One Laurent job hunting, scraping by. The other has a multibillion-dollar company waiting for him without lifting a finger.”

The air in the room seemed to thin. “Are you saying—”

“I’m Caesar’s half-brother.”

I stared at him, the pieces of the last few weeks finally clicking into a terrifying new shape. Caesar’s reaction at the wedding. The way he’d go stone-cold whenever Aaron appeared and the visceral hatred that flared every time Aaron’s name was mentioned.

I folded my arms tighter. “I don't care if you're his half-brother. That still doesn't explain why you betrayed me.”

Aaron left the desk, frustration creeping into his expression. “Don’t you understand?”

“Understand what?”

“The only way I get a place here is by being useful to Victor.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Victor doesn't reward uselessness. Everyone knows that.”

“So you sold me out to get in his good graces.”

“I had no choice.” He reached for my hand.

I stepped back instantly. “Don’t.”

Aaron straightened, his expression shifting to something almost defeated. “I came here hoping you'd understand.”

I raised my chin, my gaze level. “Well, I don’t.”

I pointed at the door again. Aaron held my gaze for a long, silent moment. Then he nodded. “I don’t want to become enemies, Iris. But it seems you’ve made up your mind.”

I said nothing. I just glared.

“Think about it some more,” he said, pausing at the threshold. “Being on my side would prove better than taking Caesar’s.”

He walked past me, then stopped and turned back. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

Then he was gone.

I stood there, staring at the empty doorway, my hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. Aaron was Caesar’s brother. And he’d just asked me to choose which Laurent I wanted to be destroyed by.

\---

I didn't leave the office for another hour.

By the time I packed my things and headed downstairs, the building was mostly empty. Naomi had left already, something about picking up my mother's prescriptions.

The ride back to the estate was silent except for the hum of tires on asphalt. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass and watched the city blur past.

Aaron was Caesar's half-brother.

That changed everything. Or maybe it changed nothing. I didn't know yet.

When we pulled through the gates, one of the staff was waiting at the entrance. She told me Caesar was already home. I nodded and headed inside, the marble cool under my heels.

I climbed the stairs and walked into the bedroom.

Caesar was on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when I entered, set the phone aside, and stood.

Without a word, he walked over and pulled me in by the waist. I went rigid, my hands hovering uselessly between us.

He sighed. “I thought we went over this.”

“We did,” I said. “But you pulled me in like I'm a piece of furniture. Maybe try acting like you actually want to touch me.”

His eyes flicked down to mine. “Excuse me?”

“You want me to look comfortable? Then stop making it feel like a hostage situation.”

He stared at me for a moment, then his grip loosened slightly, his thumb brushing the fabric just above my hip.

“Like this?” he asked quietly.

I swallowed. “Better.”

He didn't let go. We stood there, his hands still on my waist, my chest rising and falling against his. Then he said, “We're going through the entire night.”

“What's left to practice?” I asked.

Without answering, Caesar grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the bed. He sat me down, then walked over and took the couch across from me.

“I spoke to two important figures at the company,” he said, leaning back. “They'll be at the gala. Both are willing to sell the story that Aaron's been trying to covet my father's position.”

Aaron's face flashed in my mind and I wondered if I should I tell him Aaron came to see me.

Caesar's eyes were sharp, his entire body coiled with intent as he spoke. “When the moment's right, I'll make sure the right people overhear the right conversations and Aaron becomes the scapegoat my father deals with.”

Just what had happened between them?

It couldn't just be about being half-siblings. The hatred ran deeper than that. But the loom in Caesar's eyes told me now wasn't the time to ask.

“And if your father doesn't believe it?” I asked instead.

“He will. Because Aaron's been sloppy. All I'm doing is accelerating the inevitable.”

I nodded slowly. “So we just... let him fall?”

“We push him.” Caesar said coldly. “Hard.”