Chapter 38
Chapter 38
Zayne's POV
I drive back to my newly purchased Manhattan apartment as the evening sun casts its glow through the car window, illuminating my gentle smile.
Another busy day comes to an end. What a good brother and friend you are, Zayne. Who would ever guess what hides behind this smile?
The doorman greets me with a respectful nod as I enter the building. The elevator whisks me up to the penthouse floor - not as impressive as Sebastian's tower, of course, but it'll do for now.
My housekeeper meets me at the door, taking my coat with practiced efficiency.
"Would you bring a bottle of red wine to the terrace, please? Thank you," I say, my voice soft and pleasant as always. She nods and hurries off to follow my instructions.
I walk into my bedroom, shedding my tailored suit jacket and standing before the full-length mirror. I loosen my tie, examining my reflection with clinical detachment.
This face. This smile. How many people have I fooled with it? I've nearly convinced myself.
In the bathroom, I let hot water cascade over my body, steam clouding my vision. I close my eyes, but all I can see is Joanna's pale face and the fear in her eyes when she looks at Sebastian. Interesting.
After my shower, I slip into a silk robe and make my way to the terrace.
The city lights stretch before me. My housekeeper has set out the wine and a glass as requested. I pour myself a generous amount, swirling the crimson liquid gently.
Everything is under my control, isn't it?
---
I pick up my phone and find Joanna's contact. My thumb hovers over the screen for a moment before typing out a message: [Joanna, how are things with Sebastian? Don't antagonize him, just talk things through.]
I hit send and toss the phone aside, a cold smile playing on my lips.
Talk things through? Joanna, if you actually managed to do that, how would I enjoy the show?
I take another sip of wine, savoring its rich flavor on my tongue.
"Sebastian... Joanna..." I whisper their names, tasting the bitterness they leave behind. One is the brother I've hated my entire life, and the other is his only weakness. What an interesting pair they make.
My gaze drifts to the city skyline, the lights of Manhattan twinkling like distant promises. But my thoughts travel back in time, to memories I've carried like stones in my pockets for years.
---
I was three years old when my mother first brought me to the King family mansion. That massive estate was like a castle from a fairy tale - ornate doors, crystal chandeliers, hallways lined with Persian rugs - everything a thousand times better than the shabby apartment where I'd lived before.
That was when I first understood that life could be so much better. Too bad none of it belonged to me.
Then I saw Sebastian. He sat at the piano, dressed in an immaculate white shirt, playing like some little prince. Father stood beside him, pride radiating from his eyes.
I ran over, my voice high with excitement: "Hello, can I play with you?"
Sebastian didn't even look up. "Don't disturb me. I'm practicing," he said coldly. I stood there frozen, feeling the sting of being ignored for the first time.
Sebastian, you were the golden child, and I was just the bastard son.
I began following Sebastian everywhere, mimicking his movements, learning his mannerisms, even stealing his old clothes to wear. All to win his approval. But he always looked through me like I was invisible. Once I fell in front of him, my knee bleeding, crying for his help. "Stop following me," was all he said. I forced myself to stand, swallowing my tears.
Sebastian, I hate you, but I hate myself more. Why can I never measure up to you?
Later, Father sent me to school in France. I learned to create a new persona - sunny, outgoing, friendly. I excelled academically, made countless friends, became everyone's favorite. But whenever Father called, he'd always ask, "How's Sebastian doing?" Never a word about my achievements.
---
My thoughts drift to earlier today. After dropping Joanna at the hospital, I followed Nolan from a distance, curious about my brother's movements. I stopped at a coffee shop across from the hospital, watching as Nolan parked Sebastian's car by the side entrance.
Nolan emerged from the car, and to my surprise, he wasn't alone. An elderly man in an impeccable suit stepped out. I squinted, recognition dawning on me.
Clark Hernandez? The top thoracic surgeon in Manhattan and Grandfather's old friend. Sebastian, you brought out the big guns for Joanna's mother? How interesting.
I couldn't help but smile coldly. Sebastian, you claim to be cold and unfeeling, yet you arrange for one of the best surgeons in the country for your assistant's mother? You're showing your hand.
I watched as Nolan didn't enter the hospital, but drove away instead. I parked my car, following Clark inside. At the reception desk, I heard him ask for the location of Joanna's mother's surgery.
I approached with my most charming smile. "Dr. Hernandez, hello! I'm Zayne, from the King family. Looking for Joanna? I know her, let me show you where to go."
Clark nodded in recognition. "Zayne! You've grown so tall! How's your father?"
I led him toward the surgical wing, my mind racing with possibilities.
---
I swirl the wine in my glass, watching the dark liquid catch the city lights. Sebastian, your perfect façade is finally showing cracks. Joanna, a simple assistant, has you completely off balance.
I take another sip, a cold smile forming on my lips. I've played the part of the sunshine boy for so long now. The warm, caring brother. The kind friend. You all believed it, didn't you?
These years of pretending, of being the second son, the replacement, the afterthought... Sebastian, you think you're the center of the King empire, but I'll show you who the real winner is in the end.
I set my glass down, my voice barely a whisper in the night air. "Joanna, it's all up to you now. Don't disappoint me."