“You would.” He takes a sip, pursing his lips with distaste, and sets the glass down. “You didn’t answer my question.”
I eye my brother as I take a sip of my own wine, wondering whether or not to tell him the truth. I don’t believe for a moment that Art decided to come here out of a burning desire to spend time with his remaining brother. There’s something else going on here, and it’s just a matter of what I think it is–whether it’s just more scheming mischief on his part or something more sinister.
The truth, as unkind as it is, is that I don’t think my little brother has it in him to do something truly malicious. His escape from our family was borne from a desire for adventure and fame that belongs to him alone–and, as he would tell it, a real passion for modeling in front of a camera, which is something beyond my understanding.
“There’s some danger that I’m trying to stay out of the way of until it passes,” I say carefully. “It’s targeted Sasha as well, which is why she’s here.”
Art raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it have been smarter to split the two of you up, then?”
Of course, it would have.But I can’t tell him–or rather, I refuse to tell him–why Sasha is here. I’m not going to look my little brother in the eye and admit that I was foolish enough to agree to bring her along because I’d felt guilty, because I’d slipped up and spent the night in her bed, or that it’s happened again since then. Not only because I don’t want to show weakness, but because the warning alarm in my head tells me that I shouldn’t let him know thatSashais my weakness.
“She’s been through a lot.” I pause, taking another sip of the thick, rich wine. “She trusts me, and so I’m keeping watch over her. It’s a complicated situation and not one I feel compelled to explain right now.”
Art shrugs. “Fine by me. So you’ve got someone else handling your problems for you? Taking this dangerous person out while you stay here? That fits with the image of you I have in my head, actually. It’s good to know that some things don’t change.”
At least he’s speaking more plainly now.I lean back in the chair, assessing my brother’s shifting expression in the warm, low light of the room. “It was this person’s wish–the one currently handling the situation–that I remove myself as far away as possible, for the safety of others we care about. And although I would have liked very much to have handled the issue myself,” I add pointedly, “This person has done a great deal for me. I wanted to adhere to his wishes, for as long as it’s possible to do so.”
“You’re saying all this very carefully.” Art’s eyes narrow. “You’re dancing around what’s really happening. I know our brother is dead, Max. I know that we’re all that’s left of our family. All of this can’t stay like it is, moldering away like a body in a grave.” He waves his hand around at the room, towards the view outside of the windows. “The house and the wealth and the business have to go to someone.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I say flatly, reaching to refill my glass. “The business can rot, for all I care, but it can be turned into something with a board to run it. The house and the wealth can be donated. The money could go to running whatever the house is turned into, even–some kind of school or home for those in need–”
Art snorts, shaking his head as he starts to laugh. “Who do you think you are, exactly? Professor Xavier? Max, I have to admit, there have been times when I felt some guilt at leaving you to pick up my responsibilities, the fact that you’d be pressed into taking my place in the priesthood. But my god, man, I’m not sure there’s anyone better suited to it than you.”
He stands up, circling behind the chair as he leans forward on it, looking at me keenly. “All this, and you want to give it away? Not keep any of it for yourself? No power as one of the first Families, no wealth, no grand house, and a staff to tend to your every need? You might be a bigger fool than I realized, Max.”
“What do you suggest I do with it?” I glare at him, not bothering to hide my irritation. “You’ve been gone all this time, and now you’ve appeared on my doorstep to give me advice?”
Art smirks, leaning towards the bar cart to inspect it. “Ah! There we go. I think gin is probably a better option than that wine.” He unscrews the lid, beginning to fix himself a gin and tonic in a crystal glass without bothering to ask. He lets the question hang in the air until he’s finished, turning to face me again, and taking a deep sip of his drink.
“Mm. Much better.” He gives me that toothy smile that he gave Sasha earlier, his eyes catching the low light. “Well, there were three brothers, and now there’s two, and one doesn’t want what their father left behind. But I do.”
There it is.I laugh, a short, sharp bark of a sound. “I should have known you’d come begging for scraps.”
I shove myself out of my chair, too, stalking to the other side of the room so that I don’t give in to my sudden urge to throttle my brother. “There’s a reason you were written out of the will. Give me one single reason why I should write you back in.” I turn around, crossing my arms. “I’m waiting.”
Art shrugs carelessly. “I’m your brother?”
“Not good enough.” I glare at him. “I haven’t seen you since you were fifteen, Art. You left and didn’t look back. You didn’t care what happened to me or anyone else as long as you got to live your dreams.”
“And now you hate me for it?”
“No.” I rub a hand over my mouth, shaking my head. “But you’re not going to walk back in here and start slinging demands, brother. You got what you wanted. You don’t need more.”
“It’s not about needing. It’s about what’s left of our family–”
“Oh, don’t even fucking start.” I press my lips together, forcing back the choked, bitter laughter. “You never gave a shit about family or legacy or anything else here but yourself, and even if you’d suddenly decided to start, that doesn’t mean that you should get what you want. Our father didn’t want you to have any of this, and I have to say, I feel the same.”
“They really turned you high-and-mighty in seminary, didn’t they?” Art gives a dramatic shudder. “I’m lucky I didn’t go, then. They might have gotten their claws in me, and then who would I be now?”
“Probably a better man.” I look at him evenly. “I know what you’d do with this place, Art. You’d squander the business, spend all the money, and fuck models all over every surface of this house, after you drove Giana and Tommas to an early grave. I might not care much about our family’s legacy either, and I might not want to take it over myself, but that doesn’t mean I want to hand it over to you to piss on.”
Art scoffs, tossing back another gulp of his drink. “Frankly, other than the last part, I’m not sure what’s wrong with that scenario. Maybe if you’d spent more money and fucked more models, you’d be a happier man, Max. And I’m insulted that you think I wouldn’t send Giana and Tommas off with a healthy retirement before I turned it into a whorehouse. I’m not a monster.”
“I took vows of poverty and chastity,” I tell Art flatly. “So neither of those things were in the cards for me. Thanks to you, if you remember correctly–although truthfully, I do think I’m better for it.”
“Did you also take a vow to have an insufferable stick up your ass?”
“You’re a child,” I inform him. “You were a child when you left, and I’ve seen nothing to make me think that you’ve grown up since. You left this house and this family, and you didn’t look back. I don’t know what vulturous urge has you circling back to take a second look, but I haven’t forgotten.You got what you wanted.I picked up the pieces, and I continue to do so. Be grateful that I didn’t throw you out the moment you spoke that way to Sasha.”