a.The Billionaire Don Hired a Nanny to Keep His Son Silent—Then She Slapped Him in His Own Mansion, and the Boy’s First Words Buried the Brother Who Killed His Mother

The Kincaid library was a two-story room lined with thousands of leather-bound books, accessed by a spiral iron staircase that clung to the dark wood walls. A fire crackled in the massive stone hearth, casting long, dancing shadows across the room.

Julian stood by the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a generous glass of single-malt scotch. His hand was shaking slightly, the amber liquid splashing over the rim of the crystal glass.

"You're drinking too fast, Julian," a voice said from the shadows near the fireplace.

Julian jumped, dropping the bottle. It did not break on the thick rug, but a dark stain of scotch began to spread across the wool.

Dominic stepped into the firelight. He held a small, black velvet box in his hand.

"You startled me, Dom," Julian said, trying to recover his swagger as he wiped his hand with a handkerchief. "You always did move like a ghost."

"I’ve been looking at the accounts for the Gary docks, Julian," Dominic said, walking to the leather sofa and sitting down. He set the velvet box on the low table between them. "There’s a discrepancy. A large one. Over the last two years, twelve shipments of high-grade industrial steel have disappeared from the inventory."

Julian’s face went stiff. "Gary is a busy port, Dom. Things get lost. Shipping errors. The clerks—"

"These weren't errors, Julian," Dominic said, his voice dangerously calm. "The steel was sold to a private construction firm in Chicago. A firm owned by a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands. A shell company called MJ Logistics."

Julian took a long sip of his drink, his eyes darting toward the door. "I don't know anything about MJ Logistics, Dom. You know I don't handle the corporate side of things. That was Miranda's job."

"Yes," Dominic said. "It was Miranda's job. She was the one who noticed the leaks first. She called me from her office on the night of her accident. She said she had found the name of the person who was stealing from the family. She said she had the documents in her briefcase."

He opened the black velvet box.

Inside lay a heavy, tarnished brass key.

"This is the key to Miranda’s private safe in the basement of the Gary warehouse," Dominic said. "The police said her briefcase was empty when they found her car. But she didn't keep the documents in her briefcase, Julian. She kept them in the safe. And I’m going to open it tomorrow morning."

Julian’s fingers tightened around his glass until his knuckles turned yellow. "That safe was supposed to be cleared out after her death. The lawyers—"

"I stopped them," Dominic said. "I wanted to keep it exactly as she left it. Until I was ready."

He stood up, walking to his brother. He was close enough that Julian had to look up to meet his eyes.

"You should get some sleep, Julian," Dominic said, his voice a low, vibrating hum of threat. "Tomorrow is going to be a very long day."

Outside the library door, hidden in the shadows of the corridor, Claire stood with her back against the wall, her hand over Noah's mouth. The boy had followed her down the stairs, refusing to sleep, and they had arrived just in time to hear Dominic’s trap snap shut.

Noah’s eyes were wide in the darkness, his small body shaking.