Chapter 6: The Family He Tried to Break
Jamal cried when he told me everything.
Not dramatic tears.
Not the kind people show when they want forgiveness.
The quiet kind.
The kind that comes when someone finally admits they ruined something they can’t fix.
“I messed up,” he said.
We sat outside the barbershop where we used to spend Saturday mornings.
The same sidewalk where we ate candy as kids.
The same place where our neighborhood felt safe.
Now it felt like the scene of a confession.
“I was desperate,” Jamal continued.
I looked at him.
“That’s what everybody says.””
He nodded.
“I know.””
The honesty made it harder.
I wanted to be angry.
I wanted to yell.
I wanted to tell him he had destroyed everything.
But all I saw was my little brother.
The same boy who used to hide behind me when thunderstorms came.
The same boy who once told me I was the strongest person he knew.
And now he was sitting in front of me broken.
“I should have told you,” he said.
“Yes.””
“I should have walked away.””
“Yes.””
“I should have trusted you.””
I looked down.
“Yes.””
The silence between us hurt.
But it was a different kind of hurt.
Not betrayal from a stranger.
Betrayal from someone you love.
Malik stood a few feet away, giving us space.
I noticed that.
He could have interrupted.
He could have demanded answers.
But he didn’t.
Maybe because he understood something about family pain.
Maybe because he was dealing with his own.
Finally, Jamal looked at Malik.
“I’m sorry.””
Malik studied him.
“You knew what Julian wanted?””
“No.””
“You knew he hated me?””
“Yes.””
Malik’s face tightened.
“But you didn’t think he would kill me?””
Jamal swallowed.
“No.””
Malik looked away.
“Why?””
Jamal answered quietly.
“Because I thought rich people played dirty.””
Nobody spoke.
“Not deadly.””
That sentence stayed with me.
Because it explained everything.
People like Julian hid behind respectability.
Behind suits.
Behind charities.
Behind family names.
They convinced themselves their actions were different because they were educated.
Because they had reasons.
Because they believed they deserved more.
But greed did not become less dangerous just because it wore a nice watch.
Malik’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
“What?””
He listened.
Then looked at me.
“The evidence from the gala is gone.””
My stomach dropped.
“What do you mean gone?””
“The police storage room was accessed.””
Jamal looked confused.
“Someone stole it?””
Malik nodded.
“Someone with authority.””
That meant this went deeper.
Much deeper.
Julian wasn’t just relying on money.
He had connections.
People willing to erase evidence.
People willing to protect him.
Malik ended the call.
“We need to move.””
I looked at him.
“Move where?””
“Somewhere safe.””
I almost smiled.
“Safe?””
I looked around.
“At this point, I’m not sure safe exists.””
Malik didn’t argue.
Because he knew.
We returned to his estate outside the city.
I had never seen anything like it.
A house so large it felt more like a private hotel.
But after everything that happened, it didn’t impress me.
It made me sad.
Because Malik had built a world where he could buy anything.
Except loyalty.
Inside, his security team worked nonstop.
Phones rang.
Documents moved.
People searched through records.
And then one of the guards came in holding a file.
“Mr. Sterling.””
Malik looked up.
“What is it?””
The guard hesitated.
“We found another account.””
Malik took the papers.
I watched his face change.
“What?””
The guard pointed to a name.
A name that made the room go quiet.
Nia Caldwell.
Again.
Malik closed his eyes.
For a moment, I thought he was going to break.
But he didn’t.
He just stood there.
Then he looked at me.
“Lena.””
“Yes?””
“I need you to see something.””
He opened the file.
Inside was a photograph.
Not of Nia.
Not of Julian.
Not of Andre.
It was me.
Taken days before the gala.
Me entering the restaurant where I worked.
Me walking home.
Me sitting on the bus.
Someone had been watching me.
Studying me.
Preparing me.
My hands started shaking.
Because suddenly, the question wasn’t why Julian chose me.
May you like
The question was something much worse.
How long had he been planning to use me?
