Chapter 8 - MY BROTHER'S NAME
I closed the notebook.
Daniel stared at me.
“Sebastian.”
“Don’t.”
I needed silence.
Julian had spent his entire life believing our father favored me.
My mother had encouraged that resentment.
Now I held a sentence that could explain everything.
But a sentence in a notebook was not proof.
We continued reading.
My father wrote that Eleanor had confessed to an affair when Julian was two.
The other man was not named.
My father chose to raise Julian as his son.
He never intended to tell him.
But years later, Eleanor began using the secret as leverage.
She wanted my father to sell his company and fund a lifestyle he could not afford.
He refused.
According to the notebook, Gerald knew.
Gerald had advised Eleanor.
Then my father wrote:
If I die, Sebastian must protect Julian from the truth until he is strong enough to understand that blood did not make him my son.
Love did.
I stared at that line until the words blurred.
Daniel spoke quietly.
“You don’t have to tell Julian now.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because Eleanor will.”
My mother used secrets as weapons.
If she realized we had found the notebook, she would use this one before we could control how Julian heard it.
I called him.
He came to my office an hour later.
I placed the notebook on the desk.
“What is that?”
“Dad’s.”
His face changed.
“We found it in a safe deposit box Mom controlled.”
He sat.
I showed him the page.
He read silently.
Then read again.
His expression did not move.
Finally, he laughed once.
“So that’s it.”
“What?”
“That’s why he loved you more.”
“No.”
“Don’t.”
“Julian.”
“He knew.”
“He still called you his son.”
“He lied to me.”
“He protected you.”
Julian stood.
“Everybody protects me by lying.”
“Dad chose you.”
“He didn’t choose me.”
“He could have walked away.”
“He didn’t.”
Julian stared at me.
“Do you know who my biological father is?”
“No.”
“Does Mom?”
“Almost certainly.”
He grabbed the notebook.
I stopped him.
“That stays with the attorney.”
His eyes hardened.
“For evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Against Mom?”
“If necessary.”
Julian looked at me for a long moment.
Then he whispered, “It’s always necessary with you now.”
He walked out.
That night, he disappeared.
His apartment was empty.
His phone was off.
I assumed he had gone to Eleanor.
I was right.
Security footage from her apartment building showed Julian entering at 8:14 p.m.
He did not leave.
At midnight, I received a text from his number.
STOP THE INVESTIGATION.
I called immediately.
No answer.
Another text appeared.
OR I TELL EVERYONE WHAT DAD REALLY DID.
I stared at the screen.
That did not sound like Julian.
Then a third message arrived.
A photograph.
Julian sat on my mother’s couch.
Eleanor stood behind him.
May you like
Gerald stood beside her.
And on the table lay my father’s original will.
