THE HEIR'S REVENGE

Chapter 15: An Unexpected Ally

The afternoon light painted Brandon's face golden as we sat in my grandfather's penthouse office. He'd been quiet since returning from Lily's school, something heavy weighing on his shoulders. I watched him fidget with his coffee cup, unusual for someone normally so confident. Finally, he set the cup down and looked me straight in the eye.

"I need to tell you something," Brandon said, his voice steady but soft. "About the Pierce family. About what I've seen over the years."

I leaned back in my chair, giving him space to speak. The city hummed below us, thirty floors down, but up here it felt like we were in a different world. Brandon stood and walked to the window, his reflection ghostlike in the glass.

"I've worked for the Pierce family since I was eighteen," he began. "My father got me the job, said it would teach me about business. First day, Victoria had me organize files in her home office. That's when I saw how she talked about you." He turned to face me, pain clear in his eyes. "She called you 'the charity case' in her notes. Had a whole file labeled 'Ethan Problem' with strategies to keep you dependent and weak."

My chest tightened, but I stayed silent. Brandon needed to get this out.

"I watched her poison Emma against you, drop little comments every day. 'Ethan's grades are slipping again.' 'Did you see those awful shoes he wore today?' 'You deserve someone with ambition, darling.'" Brandon's hands clenched into fists. "She turned her own daughter into a weapon against you. And I just... stood there. Took my paycheck and said nothing."

"You were young," I said, though the words tasted bitter. "We all were."

Brandon shook his head violently. "That's an excuse. I saw evil happening and chose comfort over courage. When they had those dinner parties where Victoria would make you serve guests like a servant, I should have said something. When she 'accidentally' spilled wine on your only good shirt before that school dance, I should have spoken up." His voice cracked. "I was a coward, and I'm sorry."

The apology hung between us like a bridge waiting to be crossed. I stood and walked over to him, seeing not the bully who'd tormented me, but a young man carrying guilt that had finally become too heavy.

"You're here now," I said simply. "That matters more than what you didn't do then."

Brandon pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. Inside was a resignation letter, addressed to Victoria Pierce, dated today. "I quit this morning. Sent copies to Victoria, Marcus, and their HR department. I'm done taking their money."

I read the letter, noting its professional tone that still managed to convey disgust. "This must have been hard. Your family has ties to the Pierces going back generations."

"My father's furious," Brandon admitted with a hollow laugh. "Said I'm throwing away my future. But what future is worth having if it's built on hurting innocent people?" He met my eyes again. "I watched them destroy you for years. I won't watch them destroy Lily too."

The mention of Lily sent ice through my veins. The threatening photo from this morning felt like it had happened days ago, not hours. "Speaking of which, I need someone I can trust protecting her. The position of head of personal security is open. It pays triple what the Pierces were giving you."

Brandon's eyes widened. "You want me as your security head? After everything?"

"You know their tactics, their connections, their weaknesses," I explained, returning to my desk. "You've been inside their organization for years. Plus, you've already proven you'll stand between Lily and danger. That's worth more than any résumé."

"I accept," Brandon said without hesitation. Then, quieter, "There's something else you should know. Victoria has secret meetings every Thursday at the Riverside Hotel. Room 1247. She thinks nobody knows, but I saw the recurring charge on the company credit card she doesn't know I had access to."

I grabbed a pen and wrote down the information. "Who does she meet?"

"Different people. But last week, I saw her going in with a man carrying medical files. Thick ones, like patient records." Brandon pulled out his phone and showed me a blurry photo taken from across the street. "I couldn't get close enough to see his face clearly, but he drove a car registered to Peaceful Gardens Nursing Facility."

My pulse quickened. That was the same facility Maxwell had mentioned, where the fifty-thousand-dollar monthly payments went. The pieces were connecting, forming a picture I didn't fully understand yet.

My phone rang. Maxwell's name appeared on the screen.