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Elias tightened his grip on his fork. "I’m not soft, Father. I’m ethical. There’s a difference."

Elias looked at the letter, then at his brother’s tear-rimmed eyes, and finally at his father’s frozen, pale face. For the first time in thirty years, the hierarchy of the Sterling family wasn't defined by wealth or power, but by who held the truth. pussy mom mature incest

Julian tossed the letter onto the table. It slid across the polished mahogany, stopping right in front of Elias. Elias tightened his grip on his fork

Julian let out a sharp, jagged laugh. "Ethical? You’re still living in a house bought with blood money, wearing a watch that costs more than a nurse’s salary. Don't play the saint just because you’re too scared to be the villain." There’s a difference

Elias didn't open the letter. Instead, he stood up, tucked it into his pocket, and looked at Julian. "Let's go," Elias said.

"Is that what you told yourself?" Julian stood up, pulling a crumpled, yellowed envelope from his jacket. "Because I didn't come back for the merger, or the money. I came back because she died three weeks ago in a small apartment in Marseille. And she left a letter for Elias. Not for you, Arthur. Never for you."

The air in the room curdled. Their mother, Clara, was the only name never spoken in this room. She hadn't died; she had simply walked out one Tuesday morning ten years ago and never looked back.