An Heir's Empty Memorial

The family cemetery was less than a three-hour drive from the penthouse. But Cassidy and I waited for six hours. Cillian and Ronan never showed up.

After the memorial, Cassidy was devastated. She cried every day until her eyes were permanently red and swollen.

I wasn't much better. I woke up from nightmares night after night, unable to find a moment of peace even with sleeping pills.

Meanwhile, we saw photos from an underground information broker. In one, a bare-chested Cillian and Ronan were leaning languidly against a floor-to-ceiling window, smiling at Liliana.

Liliana sat nearby, her cheeks flushed. She was biting her lip, sketching their chiseled bodies on a large drawing pad.

The photo cut off at their waists, but the lines on her sketchpad left nothing to the imagination.

A note with the photos read: "I've seen those perfect bodies so many times I'm starting to get bored. I'm in no rush to finish this sketch, but they're so wrapped up in me they won't even take a phone call."

Shortly after I saw that intelligence, another file came through. This time it was a video. In it, Cillian was hand-washing her underwear while Ronan massaged her lower abdomen.

She let out soft moans, her cheeks a delicate pink.

The broker included comments from his other clients:

"Damn, this girl is living the life. Let me trade places with her for a few days!"

"The brothers are both into her, right? Liliana, which one do you want?"

"She's an adult. Obviously, she wants both!"

Liliana bit her lip and glanced at them both. "I'm so useless. I'm just on my period, and I need both of you to take care of me."

Cillian smiled and patted her head. "Don't be silly. You'll always be our little princess."

Ronan nodded seriously. "That's right."

...