Chapter 22 The Firstborn gets it all

Chapter 22 The Firstborn gets it all
Gawin’s POV

I learned early that names wound and that in a house like Smithfield, wounds could be turned into weapons. I'm not the first son, but I grew up trained to lead an empire, because my last name was Smithfield.

When the press broke the wedding news this morning, and Lucian confidently walked out with a woman recognized as Sonia Magnus, my chest did something I hadn’t allowed it to do in years. It tightened, and I could feel it bleed.

It was the first time I realized that people could be moved by image, by a lie told well enough. Yes, I knew the wedding was a fake. Lucian is heartless, he couldn't have fallen in love so quickly, and as for Sonia, something was fishy about her life's story.

My men woke me before noon. One of them had Sonia-Lucian's interview put on replay. He kept his hat on even when he sat, and his eyes were red from excessive smoking.

“Play it again,” I demanded with a flat voice.

Together, we watched as Sonia laughed. Lucian had a fake smile on his face, the type he used to scam people. For everyone else, this was good news. The Smithfield firstborn was married. But to me it meant competition. Life was a board game, and it was either I step up my game or get crumbled upon.

“Is the tape still live?” I asked when the clip ended, and turned to face one of my men.

My man shook his head in shame. “No, sir. We had to get rid of them when we found out that Lucian was tracking us.”

I grinned, trying to keep my cool. The Smithfield mansion had always been too big for silence. Yet somehow, silence was all that remained.

I stood up and strolled to my father’s study. It was huge and there was a painting of a woman on the walls. No one knew who the lady was. But we knew that she wasn't to be messed with. Her posture and position proved she was worthy of respect.

Beside her was a portrait of my dad, and it showed the “perfect” Smithfield family: my father, stoic and powerful; my mother, regal in her black gown; and me, a young boy in the middle, smiling like I believed that smile would keep the family together.

It hadn’t.

Because somewhere else in that house, lived the two ungrateful bastards. Lucian and Clara.

Children born from an affair my father swore never happened. Shortly after my mother's marriage announcement, she got to know that my father had a mistress and she was pregnant with Lucian. My mother was furious, but she decided to go on with the marriage. Lucian was three years old when I was born, and it wasn't up to a year after my birth that my father informed me I'd be having a sister.

My mother didn't really care about any of this, until he brought them home. Suddenly, her name wasn’t spoken as the wife of Smithfield, and rumors began to spread that my father was getting married to his mistress.

People began to pity my mother, and I, the rightful son, became the one who had to share properties.

I clenched my fist and looked at the glass of bourbon on the desk. The smell of oak and smoke filled the room. My father used to drink this when he lied. I drank it when I thought.

“Congratulations, big brother,” I muttered under my breath, replaying the morning’s headlines. “The media called their relationship “romantic,” I called it reckless. To me, having a weakness meant cowardice, and my mother refused to raise a coward.

Everything about Lucian’s life was theatrical, the perfect heir, the charming CEO, the man of honor who rescued the helpless girl. And now, his fake marriage to Sonia has ruined months of hard work.

I’d been waiting patiently for his downfall, but he seemed to be rising. And at the end, I looked useless and stupid.

The sextape was my best idea. It was supposed to destroy his image, strip him of the company, and hand me the board’s sympathy. But instead, he flipped the story in minutes, turned himself into the victim, and made the world adore his sin.

That’s what Lucian did best, he manipulated everything and anyone.

I imagined the look on his face, when he found out that he had a little brother. He was probably disgusted. Ashamed of me. Angry that he'd have to share the inheritance.

I'd spent a life watching his face. He thought no one could affect him. He saw himself as ice. But the truth was under intense pressure, even a powerful ice melt.

The room door opened behind me, and my assistant, Evan, entered quietly.

“Sir,” he looked around before he spoke, “the media plan failed. The tape’s traction has been redirected. People now believe it’s Lucian and his wife’s private video, and they want it taken down.”

“His wife,” I repeated, laughing bitterly. “He married a girl he barely knows, and the whole world claps. Tell me, Evan, do you think people would still applaud if they knew she used to sleep in another man’s bed?”

Evan shifted, feeling uncomfortable. “Maybe… but the timing was-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” I snapped at him, and slammed my fist against the desk, my glass shattering into tiny pieces.

A streak of blood ran down my knuckle, but I didn’t feel it.

Lucian had always been one step ahead, but not because he was smarter. No. It was because he had nothing to lose. A bastard doesn’t fear the fire when he has already been burned his entire life.

But me? I had everything to protect.
My mother, her name, the legacy that was stolen when Father decided to rewrite our family tree to include his mistakes.

I walked toward the window, overlooking the city. The skyline shimmered, the same one my father used to point at when I was young.

“One day, Gawin,” he’d say, “all this will be yours.” He had promised me.

But when Lucian's mother died, Father brought Lucian and Clara to live with us, and I slowly began to despise him.

That was the day I stopped being a son.
And started being a villain. I didn't want to do what others do. I wanted to be unique.

There are rules to being a predator in a house of predators. Never show hunger. Always smile like you were invited. And never…. let sentiment make you soft.

Except, of course, for the parts that make you unpredictable. The thing that confuses your enemy. The thing that keeps them watching the left when you decide to move right. My mother taught me how to always get the good stuff even if it belonged to someone else, and so I was determined to have Sonia for myself. Not because I cared about her, but because Lucian does.

I finished my drink and walked back to the car where the men waited. “Let's pay my company a visit.”