The Man Who Stole His Brother’s Name to Destroy Me

By the time I reached the house, my lungs still felt too tight, like I’d been breathing smoke instead of air. I had barely stepped inside when Lucinda rushed at me, her face flushed with fury.

“Did you really sell off Nathaniel’s belongings?” she snapped. “His ring, his bike, the aircraft—everything that carried his name?”

“I did,” I replied without emotion. “All of it went to auction.”

Her mouth fell open. “Do you even understand what you just threw away? Those were assets worth millions. That wealth belongs to the Carrington family!”

“He was my husband,” I said coolly. “Those things were mine to decide on.”

Her voice dropped. “Then where is the money?”

“I gave it away,” I said. “Every cent. Donated.”

The room went silent, the kind of stillness that buzzes in your ears before a storm. Then her hand was in my hair, yanking my head back until pain tore through my scalp.

“You vile little ingrate!” she screamed. “So this is who you really are. You’ve been pretending all these years!”

I clenched my jaw and stared straight back at her. “You’re the one pretending. You played the loving mother, acted like you cared about me—”

Her slap came so hard my vision burst with light.

Then another. And another. The blows kept coming. By the fifth, my ears were roaring. By the tenth, I could taste blood. She didn’t stop until she’d struck me over and over, until I couldn’t even keep count anymore.

All the while, Nathaniel—hiding behind his brother’s name—stood nearby and watched.

“She deserves it,” he said flatly. “Delilah told me everything. How you ruined the auction and tried to hurt her. You even stole the spotlight from her painting.”

My legs finally gave way. I collapsed onto the floor, palms pressed to the carpet, breath tearing painfully through my chest. No one moved to help. No one intervened.

It didn’t matter. This would be the last time.

Later, as I lay on the bed trying to recover, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. It was a message from Adrian.

Everything is set. I’ll come for you tomorrow. Wrap up whatever you still need to do.

My thumbs hovered before replying: There’s just one more thing. After that, I’ll leave with you.

I dropped the phone, only noticing the shadow by the door when I turned my head.

Nathaniel was leaning against the frame, arms folded. “Who were you texting?”

“It doesn’t concern you,” I said.

His eyes darkened. “Is it the guy who bought the ring? Tell me his name. I’ll buy it back.”

I laughed softly, without humor. “Why would you? It was never yours to begin with.”

“I’m doing it for my brother,” he insisted. “You’re really going to remarry instead of staying here? You could live with us, help with the baby, be a proper aunt—with Delilah.”

I studied him, then let out a short laugh. “Your brother is dead. Our marriage died with him. I don’t belong here anymore.”

He stared at the suitcase by the wall. “You’re leaving?”

Before I could answer, Delilah screamed from downstairs. “Nathaniel! Something’s wrong with Leo!”

His face drained of color. “Our son!”

I stayed where I was.

He snatched his keys. “Don’t you dare disappear, Eleanor. We’re not done talking. You’re not marrying anyone else.” His words were sharp with command as he rushed out with Delilah.

The door slammed.

I picked up my phone immediately.

Take the baby. That’s the final step. Once they believe I’m dead, everything will end.

Adrian replied almost instantly: Got it. I’ll take care of it. Be ready.

I dragged my suitcase into the hall, every step feeling like breaking free of chains. Outside, a taxi idled at the curb.

I didn’t look back.

---

Nathaniel

The smell of disinfectant burned my nose as I paced the hospital corridor. Delilah’s sobs drifted from the room, while Leo’s cries had weakened to a raspy whimper. Doctors were still running tests, and my heart felt like it was splitting apart.

My phone buzzed. Irritated, I answered without checking the screen. “What is it? I’m busy.”

“Sir…” the butler’s voice came through, shaking.

“I said I—”

“Sir, please listen. There’s been an accident.” He swallowed. “Miss Eleanor was in a car crash.”

I stopped cold. “What are you saying?”

A long pause. Then, barely audible:

“She didn’t make it.”