That night, Adrian visited the cemetery.
No body was buried under his name.
Only a headstone.
A lie carved in stone.
He stared at it quietly.
"You see, Father?" he murmured. "He was never stronger. He was just chosen."
Memories surfaced.
A younger Adrian being compared constantly to Ethan.
"You lack discipline."
"Ethan is more stable."
"You are reckless."
Reckless.
That word followed him into exile.
He didn't fake his death for drama.
He did it to rebuild.
To return stronger.
To prove he was never the unstable one.
But somewhere along the way…
It stopped being about his father.
It became about Ethan's happiness.
His success.
His love.
And Adrian hated the peace on his brother's face.
He pulled out his phone and watched a live hospital camera feed.
Ava sitting beside Ethan's bed.
Holding his hand.
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"That should've been mine," he whispered.
Not the company.
The loyalty.
The unconditional devotion.
He shut the phone off.
For the first time…
He looked uncertain.