Chapter 2

I rushed to the bottom of the stairs, my luggage crashing to the marble floor.

"Caleb, what happened to you?"

He flinched when I reached for him, a flicker of fear in his eyes that I had never seen before. He looked from me to Andrew, then back to the floor.

"I'm fine, Dad." His voice was a hoarse whisper.

Andrew stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Nathaniel, calm down. You're upsetting him."

I shook his hand off. "Don't touch me. Look at him. The rash, the limp. What did you do?"

Andrew sighed, a performance of long-suffering patience. "He's been acting out, Nathaniel. The rash is just his allergies. He keeps sneaking out at night, rolling around on the neighbor's lawn for attention."

"And the limp?" I demanded, my voice rising.

"A skateboarding accident," Molly said quickly, her face a mask of concern. "He was trying to impress some older woman. He's lucky it wasn't worse. Poor Andrew has been so worried, staying up all night looking after him."

"Yes," Gabrielle added, her tone dripping with false sympathy. "Andrew has been a saint. Caleb has been tormenting him, saying the most awful things out of jealousy."

I looked from their polished, healthy faces to my son's broken form. Caleb was wearing an old, ill-fitting tracksuit, while Andrew was in a bespoke suit. Caleb's skin was inflamed and raw, while Andrew's was clear and tanned. The contrast was sickening. It was a visual confirmation of everything I feared.

Andrew smiled, a predator showing its teeth. "Don't worry, Nathaniel. Once Caleb is settled with Debra, I'll be here to help you manage the family's domestic assets. We can finally get this house in order."

He gestured around the room, at the life I had built, the home I had made for my son. He was openly claiming my legacy, right in front of me.

My rage solidified into a cold, hard stone in my chest.

I pulled Caleb away from the stairs, putting my arm around his thin shoulders. He felt fragile, like a bird with a broken wing.

"He is not 'domestic assets'," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "He is my son. The only heir to this family. You," I looked directly at Andrew, "are nothing."

Andrew's smile faltered for a second.

Jennifer immediately jumped to his defense. "Nathaniel, that's not fair! Andrew has been a better son to you than Caleb ever was! He's the one who understands business, who can carry the Hughes name forward."

"Caleb is just... difficult," Gabrielle murmured, as if confiding a sad secret. "He's not built for this world."

I ignored them. I looked closely at Caleb's leg. Through the thin fabric of his sweatpants, I could see the angry swelling around his knee. It didn't look like a simple skateboarding fall.

"Let me see your leg, son."

"It's nothing," Caleb mumbled, trying to pull away.

Molly stepped between us. "Please, don't make him. It's embarrassing for him."

I pushed her aside. I lifted the pant leg. A massive, purple-black bruise covered his entire knee and shin, laced with ugly scrapes. It was the kind of injury that came from a direct, brutal impact.

A roar of fury escaped my throat. "This is not a skateboarding accident! This is an assault!" I rounded on the three girls. "What did you do to him?"

They recoiled, their faces a picture of shocked innocence.

"We didn't do anything!" Jennifer cried. "He's faking! He does this for attention!"

"He's jealous of Andrew," Gabrielle insisted. "He probably hurt himself to make Andrew look bad."

I tried to lead Caleb toward the door. "We're going to the hospital. Now."

They blocked my path.

"You can't," Molly said, her voice hardening. "Debra is on her way. You'll ruin everything."

She pulled out her phone. "Look. If you don't believe us, look at this."

She showed me a series of photos. Caleb at a wild party, surrounded by empty bottles. Caleb looking dazed, with two older women draped over him. The pictures were grainy, poorly lit, but they were clearly meant to humiliate him.

"He's a lost cause, Nathaniel," Molly said, her voice filled with fake pity. "He's been sneaking out, getting into trouble. We've been trying to protect the family name."

Andrew stepped forward, putting on a show of regret. "I'm so sorry you have to see this, Nathaniel. I tried to guide him, but he wouldn't listen."

The girls nodded in unison, reinforcing his lie.

Caleb shook his head, a single tear tracing a path through the rash on his cheek. "No... I didn't..."

His voice was so weak, so broken.

I pulled him close, my heart aching. "I know, son. I believe you. I'm here now."

I gave the four of them a look of pure ice. I knew what I had to do. I turned without another word and led Caleb back up the stairs to his room, away from the vipers I had let into my home. My mind was already working, formulating a plan. They had declared war. They had no idea who they were fighting.