Page 26 of Billionaire’s Ruin

I’d rehearsed this moment in my head countless times.

What I’d say.

How I’d act.

How I’d make it sound like a win-win, so neither of them tore each other—or me—apart in the process.

But now that it was happening, I didn’t feel calm or ready. It felt… raw.

“Why now?”

“Jay just graduated from university.”

I turned to him, greeted by that smug, proud smile that made my stomach churn. “So?” I barked.

“He’s grown up now. Just like you.”

“We’re nothing alike.” I didn’t even know my brother that well, but I knew that much.

“Jay will be joining the company soon,” he continued, in a smug, rehearsed tone, like this was all part of some big PR announcement. “And I want him—and Mary—to have the recognition that they deserve.”

There it was. Her name.

Mary.

His gentle, perfect, kind-hearted woman.

He hesitated before continuing, and I could feel his stare on me.

“She’s a good woman, Kai. Such a gentle soul. She took care of me when no one else would. Don’t you think she did a good job raising your brother? I want her to have what she deserves—something I should’ve given her years ago.”

Every word felt like a nail driven into my skull.

Sharp.

Deliberate.

Cruel.

“You had no problem playing happy family with Mom when it suited you. Why change? Did Mary finally get to you? Did she ask for her inheritance—the one she’s been eyeing for years?”

“Stop that.” His tone snapped back to the one I knew too well—the commanding, dismissive way he used on me growing up. “You have no idea what it was like living with her.”

“Well then,” I replied, mocking the syrupy politeness of a call-center rep, “enlighten me. Go ahead—file your complaint.”

“Her mood swings were unbearable. I lived in fear for years. Everything I did made her angry.” His sigh filled the space, heavy and self-pitying. “Do you know what that’s like, Kai? To tiptoe around your own home? To wonder if today’s the day she kicks you out for breathing wrong?”

“I know,” I murmured quietly. “I lived with her.”

For a brief moment—just a flicker—pity stirred in me. He wasn’t wrong. Mom could be… difficult. Loving her wasn’t easy. But pity was quickly smothered by the years of anger I’d buried under my skin.

“Yeah, I’m glad you noticed.” He exhaled sharply and that made my stomach turn. “She got worse after your kidnapping. It was like something broke inside her. Her temper—” he shook his head, “—was like a demon let loose.”

“She is unwell.”

He blinked. “What?”

“She. Is. Sick.” I met his eyes. “She’s been… not herself for a long time.”