Brother's Death

It had been a while since the wedding.

That morning, after Diego left for a meeting, Briella stood by the window of the master bedroom, sunlight spilling over her bare shoulders. Her legs still ached from the night before—Diego hadn’t let her sleep until well past dawn.

She finally reached for the old, hidden phone Penny had given her.

Her fingers hovered over the screen.

Then she dialed.

It rang once.

Twice.

“Briella?” Penny answered, too sweet. Too fake. “How are you? Settling in well?”

“I want to see my brother,” Briella said flatly. “Now.”

Silence.

Then a light laugh.

“Oh. That…” Penny’s tone shifted. “That’s not really necessary anymore, is it? You’re married now. Everything’s fine.”

Briella’s jaw clenched. “What do you mean?”

“You’re overthinking things,” Penny said smoothly. “Just enjoy your new life. Don’t ask about things that don’t matter anymore.”

Briella’s grip on the phone tightened.

“Where. Is. He.”

“Briella,” Penny sighed, voice colder now. “Don’t ruin a good thing. You’ve done your part. Let it go.”

Click.

The line went dead.

Briella stared at the screen, her chest tightening.

Something was wrong.

...

“I need something,” she said quietly. “May I ask you?”

Butler Warren turned, surprised. “Madam?”

“My brother. Kai McKenna.” Her voice was steady, but her hands were cold. “Can you find out where he is? I’ve been married into this house for a while now, and I haven’t heard anything from the Sawyers. He’s still just a child…”

Butler Warren hesitated.

But hearing the name, and the quiet strain in her voice, his expression softened. She was the lady of the house now. A request like this—shouldn’t be difficult.

“All right, Madam,” he said. “I’ll look into it and report back when I find something.”

But days passed, and there was still no word.

Finally, Briella couldn’t wait any longer. She found Butler Warren again and cornered him in the hallway.

He looked troubled. She could see it in his eyes.

“Madam…” he began. Then stopped.

Briella stepped closer. “You found something. Didn’t you?”

He hesitated again, then gave a slight bow. “Perhaps you should speak directly with Mr. Elsher. I wasn’t able to find anything myself.”

She stared at him. “You? Couldn't find anything?”

Warren was no ordinary servant. If he said he couldn’t find something, it meant one of two things: it didn’t exist… or someone didn’t want her to know.

And she didn’t believe for a second it was the first.

Still, she didn’t push.

Not yet.

She just nodded, lips pressed into a tight line. “Very well.”

She’d wait.

Until Diego came home.

And then… she’d ask him herself.

...

The clock struck ten, but Diego still hadn’t returned.

Briella sat alone in the bedroom, staring blankly at the silent phone in her hand.

She couldn’t sleep. Not without answers.

To distract herself, she picked up her sketchbook—but her pen was missing.

With a sigh, she stood and pulled a shawl over her shoulders. Maybe Diego had some pens in his study.

Her bare feet moved quietly across the marble floor as she stepped into the hallway.

Down the corridor, the door to Diego’s study stood slightly open.

She paused.

Then pushed it open and slipped inside.

The room smelled of old books and expensive cologne. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined the walls, filled with everything from politics to economics to obscure military texts.

Her eyes drifted to the large wooden desk at the center.

And then she saw it.

A folder.

Left carelessly on top of a stack of documents.

Her name was printed on the cover.

And just below it… Kai McKenna.

Her breath caught.

She stepped closer, hands trembling as she picked it up.

The folder felt heavier than it should.

With a deep breath, she opened it—

CONFIDENTIAL

Subject: Kai McKenna

Age: 12

Affiliation: Unregistered dependent (Sawyer-affiliated)

Date of Termination: Two weeks prior to the Elsher-Sawyer marriage

Method: Experimental compound L-47

Dosage: 5mg orally administered

Result: Induced cardiac failure within 3–5 minutes of ingestion

Disposition: Classified. Body disposed per standard internal protocol.

A second page followed—a blurred surveillance photo.

Kai.

Strapped to a chair. His head slumped forward. Blood staining his lips and shirt.

She covered her mouth, but the sob ripped free anyway.

Her knees gave out, the folder slipping from her hands and scattering across the floor.

Kai.

Dead.

Before she even stepped into Diego’s mansion.

Before she said yes.

Before she let him touch her.

They had lied. Used her. And killed the one person she swore to protect.

And Diego…

This was his house.

His desk.

His file.

Her eyes burned with rage.

A scream built in her throat—but it never came out. She swallowed it down.

Tears rolled silently down her cheeks as she gathered the documents back into the folder, clutching it to her chest like it might bring Kai back.

Her heart shattered, piece by piece.

...

“…Does this face really look like hers?”

She reached out, gently touching her pale cheek. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, her voice hoarse and empty.

Then suddenly, she let out a low, broken laugh.

She pulled open a drawer and took out a knife. The cold blade gleamed under the light as she turned it slowly in her hand.

She brought it closer to her face.

The metal kissed her bloodless skin.

She shut her eyes.

And slashed.

“Ah!”

Just before the blade could cut, a hand grabbed it—tight enough to bleed.

“Briella McKenna, what the hell are you doing?!”

For the first time, Diego’s always-calm demeanor shattered as he stormed into the room. He hadn’t expected to come home this late and find his wife trying to hurt herself.

Briella stared at the blood dripping from his palm, then collapsed to the floor in exhaustion.

The knife clattered beside her, its blade smeared red. Blood pooled on the floor—bright and brutal.

She looked up at him and scoffed. “What? Scared I’ll ruin this face?”

Her voice dripped with sarcasm, her body limp and defeated.

Diego said nothing. Ignoring his bleeding hand, he knelt down and reached to lift her—

She slapped him away without hesitation.

Diego froze, withdrawing his hand. He didn’t know what had come over her, but his expression hardened. His voice turned cold.

“Where did you get the knife? I took away everything sharp from this room.”

“So you’re afraid I’ll kill you now that I know about my brother’s death?” Her laugh was bitter. “You’re disgusting.”

Diego flinched. Brother’s… death?

Then it hit him.

Earlier that afternoon, Butler Warren had brought him a report—something about the madam’s request to look into her brother.

He hadn’t opened it.

He’d left it on the desk.

She must have found it.

And misunderstood.

Diego’s silence only made things worse. Briella snapped.

She lunged—reaching for the knife again, ready to strike him before he could say a word.

She was unhinged, wild—if she couldn’t hurt him, she would hurt herself.

Diego had no choice.

He moved fast, knocking the blade away, and struck the side of her neck just hard enough to render her unconscious.