Chapter 13 - Gregory’s Confession
The next morning, Gregory asked me to walk with him outside.
Roman’s estate looked strangely peaceful after the previous night.
Security crews repaired damage at the gate.
The winter garden stood gray beneath a cold sky.
Gregory shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
“I need to tell you something before someone else does.”
I stopped.
“I’m getting tired of sentences that start like that.”
“I know.”
“What did you do?”
He stared toward the trees.
“Stephen approached me six months ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“About what?”
“You.”
I said nothing.
“He told me you were building a case against Dad.”
“I wasn't.”
“I know now.”
“What did you tell him?”
Gregory’s face filled with shame.
“Where you kept your backup drive.”
For several seconds, I couldn't process it.
“You gave Stephen access to my files?”
“He said Dad wanted to know what you were copying.”
“Why didn't Dad ask me?”
“I should have wondered.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you were trying to take control of the company.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“Me?”
“Dad told me you resented that I’d inherit.”
“I resented that you inherited his attention.”
Gregory closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“What happened after you told Stephen?”
“He asked for my access badge.”
“You gave it to him.”
“Yes.”
The betrayal landed differently from Dad’s.
Dad’s cruelty was almost expected now.
Gregory’s hurt because I had begun hoping he might become my brother again.
“Did he access my workstation?”
“Probably.”
“That’s how they discovered my irregularity file.”
“Yes.”
“That’s how they knew what to forge.”
“I think so.”
I stepped away.
“Sades.”
“Don't.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do you understand what you did?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
I turned back.
“You didn't just betray me. You helped build the evidence that could have sent me to prison.”
His face went white.
“I didn't know.”
“You didn't want to know.”
That distinction mattered.
He started crying.
My brother almost never cried.
Dad had trained that out of him early.
Seeing tears didn't make me forgive him.
But it reminded me he was broken too.
Different fractures.
Same house.
“What do you want from me?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
That surprised me.
“I don't deserve forgiveness.”
“No.”
“I just needed you to know before I testify.”
“What?”
He looked at me.
“Federal investigators want me to cooperate.”
My anger paused.
“What will you tell them?”
“Everything.”
“Including Harbor Crown?”
“Yes.”
“Even if it implicates you?”
“Yes.”
For the first time, Gregory looked like someone Dad hadn't designed.
“Why?”
“Because you were right.”
“About what?”
“I've spent my whole life taking the easy side.”
He wiped his face.
“I don't want to do that anymore.”
Something softened inside me.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But maybe the possibility.
I nodded.
“Then tell the truth.”
“I will.”
We returned inside.
Roman stood near the window.
He had obviously seen enough to know something happened.
He didn't ask until Gregory left.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Want to talk?”
“No.”
He nodded.
I took three steps.
Then stopped.
“Actually, yes.”
So I told him.
Everything.
When I finished, Roman remained silent.
“You're supposed to say something.”
“I’m deciding whether what I want to say helps.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
I sat.
“Say it.”
“Gregory betrayed you.”
“Yes.”
“And he's trying to repair damage.”
“Yes.”
“Both things can be true.”
I looked at him.
“You always make complicated things sound annoyingly simple.”
“They're rarely simple.”
“You just used two sentences.”
“Short sentences aren't simple truths.”
I smiled despite myself.
Then our phones started ringing.
Everyone’s.
News alert.
Senator Whitmore had called an emergency press conference.
We turned on the television.
Whitmore stood at a podium in Washington.
Serious expression.
American flags.
The performance was perfect.
“Today,” he began, “I have learned that organized criminal interests may have infiltrated major development projects across the Northeast.”
Roman laughed once.
Cold.
Whitmore continued.
He named Miller Development.
Then Roman Costa.
Then me.
My photograph appeared beside Roman’s on-screen.
Whitmore claimed he had requested federal investigation.
He positioned himself as the reformer.
The man cleaning up corruption.
Stephen’s plan was happening.
Sacrifice Whitmore?
No.
Not yet.
Use Whitmore to control the story first.
Whitmore continued:
“Evidence suggests a senior Miller employee used family connections to facilitate illegal transfers.”
Senior Miller employee.
Me.
My stomach turned.
Then a reporter shouted:
“Senator, are you saying Sadie Miller worked with Roman Costa?”
Whitmore looked straight into the camera.
“We will allow investigators to determine that.”
Perfect.
He didn't accuse.
He implied.
Roman switched off the television.
“Your father learned from professionals.”
Before I could respond, Elena entered.
“We have a problem.”
“Another one?”
“Whitmore’s people filed documents.”
“What documents?”
She placed them down.
Sworn statements.
My father.
Signed six weeks ago.
Daniel.
Signed eight months ago.
Gregory.
Signed four months ago.
Each statement portrayed me as increasingly unstable.
Obsessed with company money.
Angry with Dad.
Secretive.
The foundation of Dad’s plan.
Gregory stared at his signature.
“I signed this.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“He told me it was an HR risk report.”
Elena nodded.
“The wording was modified afterward.”
Forgery again.
But harder to prove.
Roman read the papers.
“This was prepared before Victor resurfaced.”
I understood.
Meaning Dad had planned to frame me even before the current crisis.
Maybe Stephen had pressured him.
Maybe not.
Some choices belonged entirely to Thomas Miller.
My phone rang.
Hospital.
Dad wanted to amend his statement.
Publicly.
“He wants to confess,” Elena said after speaking with his attorney.
I stared.
“Why now?”
Elena’s expression was grim.
“Because Whitmore just threatened Gregory.”
There it was.
Dad could sacrifice one child.
But apparently not both.
I should have felt angry.
Instead I felt tired.
Then Gregory said quietly:
“Let him confess.”
I looked at my brother.
He held my gaze.
May you like
“For once,” he said, “let Dad pay his own debt.”
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