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Sebastian looks at me. The anger is gone, replaced by a devastating clarity. He looks at the portrait of his grandfather, then at the painting of his father across from it, the man who would rather see his oldest son go to jail than implicate his youngest, who is the actual criminal.

“I’m so sorry, Sebastian,” I whisper. It’s nowhere near enough consolation for what’s happened, but I don’t know what else to say.

Sebastian doesn't reply. He stares at the screen, at the proof of his father's betrayal.

So, is this what the King legacy is? Power built on lies and betrayal? I wish I knew how to comfort him.

I wish I knew how to quiet that little voice in the back of my head that whispers: If his father would lie and send his son to jail for him, what would Sebastian lie about to save himself?

30

SEBASTIAN

The light from my computer monitor draws sharp, jagged shadows across the room. It makes my father's study seem even more like the cave of horrors it is.

I stare at the transaction record, the $12.5 million payment. I can't stop staring at it. A chill settles in my bones that has nothing to do with the air conditioning or the storm outside.

I know what it means to be a King. My father drilled it into me. I know there are lies, and I know there are secrets; I have my own repository. But to betray me like this? A betrayal from my father and my brother? Did they plan this together? Or did Jesse simply blunder into another mistake, a mistake my father is setting me up to go down for, instead of his favorite son?

Isabella is still sitting next to me, silent and still. I can't read the expression on her face. She doesn't understand what it means to be a member of the King family; she can't see the big picture the way I do.

The hacker didn't recognize the shell company’s coding, and I know Isabella didn’t either, but I did. It's not just the King Family Trust; it's a vehicle used for internal family distributions. My father wouldn't risk a direct bribe to a DOJ official just for a business advantage. He’s far too careful and calculating for that. He did it because there was a genuine threat. He did it because someone in the family committed a catastrophic act, and he had to make it disappear.

And now there’s proof that the Anchorstone information was leaked from my home IP address, irrefutable proof, except it doesn't show that Jesse, under the guise of brotherhood, leaked the information from my house. That's the only thing that makes sense.

I knew my youngest brother had inherited some of my father's worst qualities, but this one stings like a mother. It feels like my brother has broken both my legs and left me to writhe in agony.

“At least we have a direct link between the bribe and your father,” Isabella says quietly. “We take this to the DOJ and the board, and that part of the nightmare ends, at least. Then we prove Jesse was the one who released the Anchorstone information.”

“No, it won’t end there. The release of this information will still bring down the King Corporation.”

I know what I have to do now. They’ve backed me into a corner and I'm going to fight my way out. I can't let my father or Jesse go to prison, because if one King falls, the entire house collapses. The King Corporation will crumble, thousands of employees will lose their jobs, and the legacy of three generations will all turn to ash in one fell swoop.

“We can't use this.”

Isabella turns slowly toward me. “What? What are you talking about? We have to fix this.”

“We are fixing it,” I snap. “If I hand this over, I'm not just handing over my father and Jesse, I'm handing over the entire King Corporation. The DOJ won't stop at the bribe; they'll rip open every closet and find all the skeletons. They'll find whatever Jesse was hiding, and the board will kick us out permanently. We'll lose everything we’ve fought to build.”

“You're protecting them,” Isabella hisses. “After all of this, you're still protecting them. Your father is framing you, Sebastian! He doesn't care if you go to federal prison. Your brother is his accomplice, the man who sold secrets to your rival to cover up his fuckups. Yet you're still going to stay loyal to them.”

Her voice rises with each word. “It's not loyalty, Isabella, it's survival.” I throw her own words back at her. She doesn't understand. “You have no idea what will happen, the tsunami of consequences we’ll face if this comes to light.”

She throws her hands up. “Are you kidding me right now? What is wrong with you? They betrayed you. This is a huge coverup, and your brother and father don't give a damn about what happens to you, so long as they get off scot-free. Are you really going to let them get away with this?”

“It's not just about me, Isabella,” I say, my own voice rising. “This is about thousands of people losing their jobs if we go down.”

Isabella’s eyes narrow, lines of disgust appearing on her beautiful face. “You're using that as an excuse.” Her accusation is sharp and cutting. “You’ve said you'll lose everything several times. Is this stupid legacy that your father would throw you under the bus to protect worth selling your soul for?”

The air leaves my lungs in a rush. She could have punched me in the stomach and caused less damage. “You don't know what you're fucking talking about. Being a PR executive at a firm riddled with scandal doesn't give you any insight into what it's like to run a billion-dollar empire, to have thousands of people counting on you to make sure their futures are secure. You have no idea what it's like to be responsible for carrying on a legacy and a name.”

“Why, because I come from humble beginnings in Harlem? Because my name isn't etched across buildings and whispered in your holier-than-thou circles by people who care more about money than humanity? Yeah, that's a great legacy to protect,” Isabella spits back.

I walk back to my father's chair and sink down in front of the computer. “I'm doing what I have to do.”

My fingers fly over the keys, Isabella looking over my shoulder.

“The former head of M&A and the chief security officer? They're innocent, and you know it!” she spits.