Chapter 5: The Name I Never Expected
I stared at the photograph until the edges blurred.
That was my brother.
Jamal Brooks.
My little brother who used to follow me around our grandmother’s house with a toy basketball tucked under his arm.
My little brother who cried when our father left and pretended he didn’t.
My little brother who promised Mama he would make something of himself.
Now his face was beside Andre Lewis.
The same man who tried to poison Malik Sterling.
The same man who had almost turned a celebration into a funeral.
“No,” I whispered.
The officer across from me watched my reaction carefully.
“You recognize him?””
I didn’t answer immediately.
Because there are moments when your mind tries to protect you.
It gives you a few extra seconds before reality enters.
Maybe the picture was fake.
Maybe Jamal didn’t know him.
Maybe there was another explanation.
But deep down, I knew.
That was Jamal.
“That’s my brother,” I finally said.
The officer wrote something down.
“When was the last time you spoke with him?””
“Yesterday.””
“Did he mention Andre Lewis?””
“No.””
“Did he mention Malik Sterling?””
I looked up.
“No.””
The officer leaned back.
“Ms. Brooks, your brother has financial records showing multiple payments from an account connected to Andre Lewis.””
My heart sank.
“No.””
The officer slid another paper across the table.
Numbers.
Dates.
Transfers.
I didn’t understand everything I was seeing, but I understood enough.
Money had moved.
And somehow, my family was connected to the biggest scandal in Atlanta.
I pushed the paper away.
“My brother wouldn’t do this.””
The officer’s expression softened slightly.
“You’d be surprised what people do when money is involved.””
I hated that sentence.
Not because it was impossible.
Because I had seen enough of life to know it was sometimes true.
But Jamal?
No.
Not him.
When our father disappeared, Jamal was twelve years old. I was seventeen.
I remembered him sitting on the front steps after school, pretending he wasn’t waiting for a man who wasn’t coming back.
I remembered telling him, “You don’t need anybody who chooses not to stay.””
I became his protector.
His second parent.
His biggest supporter.
I helped him apply for college.
I covered his bills when he lost his job.
I defended him when Mama said he needed to grow up.
Because that was what family did.
At least, that was what I believed.
The officer closed the folder.
“We need to speak with him.””
I stood.
“Where is he?””
“We’re looking.””
That answer scared me more than anything.
Because if Jamal was innocent, he would come forward.
Wouldn’t he?
The door opened.
Malik walked in.
Not with bodyguards.
Not with lawyers.
Just Malik.
For a second, I forgot he was one of the most powerful men in the city.
All I saw was the man whose life had almost ended tonight.
“Are you okay?”” he asked.
I almost laughed.
“Am I okay?””
He stopped.
I shook my head.
“Your brother tried to kill you. My brother might be involved. The police think I’m connected. And you’re asking if I’m okay?””
He didn’t get angry.
He didn’t defend himself.
He just nodded.
“You’re right.””
That surprised me.
People like Malik weren’t supposed to admit when they were wrong.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I looked at him.
“For what?””
“For allowing you to become part of this.””
I crossed my arms.
“You didn’t do that.””
“No.””
His voice lowered.
“But my family did.””
That was the first time I saw the weight he carried.
Not billionaire Malik.
Not the man on magazine covers.
Just a brother.
A man who had trusted the wrong people.
“I need to find Jamal,” I said.
Malik nodded.
“I’ll help.””
I almost refused.
My pride wanted to.
I didn’t want to owe him anything.
But then I remembered something my grandmother used to say.
“Pride is expensive, baby. Don’t spend it when you need help.””
So I nodded.
“Fine.””
Malik made a call.
Within minutes, his team started searching.
And I hated how easy it was.
How quickly doors opened for him.
How quickly people answered.
The world treated powerful people differently.
I knew that before.
But seeing it happen in real time was different.
A few hours later, Malik’s security team found Jamal.
Not running.
Not hiding.
Sitting alone outside a closed barbershop in our old neighborhood.
When I saw him, my heart broke.
Because he looked exactly like my little brother.
Tired.
Scared.
Lost.
“Lena.””
His voice cracked.
I walked toward him slowly.
“Tell me I’m wrong.””
He looked away.
That was enough.
“Jamal.””
“I didn’t know.””
The words came out fast.
“I swear, I didn’t know what Andre was planning.””
I stared at him.
“Then why were you with him?””
He rubbed his face.
“Because I owed him money.””
My chest tightened.
“What?””
“He helped me when I was struggling.””
Jamal looked ashamed.
“I thought he was just investing in a business idea.””
“What business idea?””
He hesitated.
And that hesitation hurt.
“Jamal.””
He looked at me.
“Your friend Malik’s brother was trying to get control of Sterling Enterprises.””
The world felt upside down.
“Julian found Andre,” Jamal said.
“Andre found me.””
“Why?””
“He needed someone who could get close to the event.””
I felt cold.
“Me.””
Jamal looked down.
“Yes.””
The truth hurt worse than any lie.
Because suddenly I understood.
I wasn’t just a witness.
I was part of the plan.
Julian hadn’t chosen me by accident.
He had chosen me because I was invisible.
Because nobody would question the waitress.
Nobody would suspect the woman carrying champagne.
And that was when I realized something.
May you like
Julian Sterling didn’t just want Malik dead.
He wanted someone else to take the blame.
