
He Defends My Brother’s Killer
Chapter 3
My heart had turned hollow by this time. Nothing could hurt me anymore. For what seemed eternity, I heard the sound of door's churning and then the footsteps of Julian as he reached to my side of the bed.
Gently caressing my hair, he asked, "What happened, Claire? You seem... a little off today."
"I'm fine." I said, my voice distant. "I'm just tired."
"Oh," He just mumbled. "Take rest then."
Having said that, he walked up to the door, grabbed his leather jacket and was about to go out when I finally asked, "Where are you going?"
"Since you are tired, I will let you take rest for tonight, Claire." He said, "Layla is going for late night party. I don't feel it's safe for her to go alone. So, I'm going with her."
My nails dig deeper inside the pillow. Two drops of tears rolled down my cheeks, a stark contrast to my earlier thought that nothing could hurt me anymore.
"Okay," I said, "Have fun with... Layla."
I tried my best, not to be sarcastic. But, he seemed to guess something was not right and walked up to me.
"Claire..." He whispered, "There is nothing between me and her, okay? Stop overthinking. Her parents have huge favor on me. I'm just returning it."
"I know." I said, not bothering enough to look at him.
"One more thing." He began, "Your brother has not apologized to Layla's brother yet. Try to put some sense into your brother's mind and bring him to Layla's home to apologise."
"He should be thankful enough that Layla's parents did not file complaint against him considering my relationship with him or else he would have been behind the cell by now."
"He can at least apologize sincerely, can't he?"
Julian's words sent shivers down my spine, reminding me the tragic death of my brother. Still, he didn't know!
He didn't know that Layla's family could never harm my brother anymore. They had already done enough. He had suffered enough. He would not suffer anymore.
"He will not come, Julian!" I said, finally raising my head to look at him. "He isn't coming back! Never." I yelled.
I remembered a week ago my mother had called me, informing me about my brother being locked inside his room and not opening the door for anyone.
At that time, Julian had been insisting I should go with him to see Layla's parents and apologize on my brother's behalf.
I informed him about my brother's situation. But, he coldly replied, "He is just throwing tantrums. So, he could save his face."
"You are my wife, Claire. So, you should listen to me." He commanded.
"What if I don't?" I asked, my voice challenging.
"Then I have plenty of ways to make you obey." That's what he had said, threatening me with throwing my brother into prison with the evidence he had gathered against him.
That day, he dragged me to Layla's home only to find out her whole family was out for a trip. When we returned home, I received a message.
[We were too late, Claire. Your brother killed himself.]
A picture was attached with it showing my brother lying in the pool of blood, a headphone attached to his ears.
Julian's eyes darkened. He was not used to listen 'No' from me, let alone 'Never'.
He walked closer His legs paused mid-strideto me, each step he took showed dominance and arrogance. For a moment, I stiffened in my bed. Then echoed the voice of Layla, seductive and charming, "Julian... We are getting late dear."
His legs paused mid-stride.He only spoke, "Listen to me very carefully, Claire. If you don't want your brother to be sent to prison, bring him to Layla's Birthday party next week and try to come with some decent gifts, alright?"
I pursed my lips as I finally said, my voice cold and distant, "Alright, he will come... With a proper gift."
"Good..." He said, his voice softening and he turned his back at me and left.
As soon as he left the room, I dialed a number. The call was picked up immediately.
"I know what you want from me. I have all the information about Julian's Clients and his upcoming projects. I'll hand over all the core information to you."
"In return, I want you not to just gather the evidence of my brother's evidence, but also the evidence of Julian's crime. I want him exposed next week."
Michael's voice sounded from the other end, a cold mirthless laughter as he spoke, "Cutting the hands that feeds you, Mrs. Williams? I hope you have some plans in your mind after screwing your husband."
"You don't need to worry about that." I said before I hang up the call.
Then I called my lawyer.
"Are the divorce papers ready?" I asked, I had filed for divorce the day Luke died.
"Yes, Mrs. Williams. When and where you do you want me to deliver it?" He asked.
"Next week. At Royal Palace."
A banquet arranged by my husband to celebrate Layla White's birthday. He wanted me to come with a gift.
What could be better gift than giving away my husband to her?
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