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CHAPTER NINE

Author: Dare
last update publish date: 2026-06-21 15:27:38

Simon — What the House Knows

The investigator's name was Reeves.

Simon had hired him eleven days after Frederick's funeral, quietly, through a firm he had used twice before for corporate matters — discreet, thorough, expensive. He had not told Elder Brown. He had not told Daniel, who was now also gone, whose death had arrived like the second blow in a combination, the one that lands before you've recovered from the first.

Two brothers. Eight weeks apart. Both cardiac.

Simon was a man who had bu
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  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER FORTY

    Both — Just ThemIt happened on a Saturday.Not planned. Saturday was the day the estate ran at its quietest — the cook had the morning off, Gloria did her household accounts in the back office, the security rotation ran on the reduced weekend schedule. The house had a different quality on Saturdays, slower and more personal, the way a large institution felt different when the formal parts of it rested.Simon found her in the kitchen at nine, which was where they always found each other, and she was making coffee and the morning was clear and bright outside the window, the November marine layer having burned off early for once, leaving the hills very green and the sky the particular blue of a day that had decided to be uncomplicated."Come somewhere with me," he said.She looked at him. He was not in work clothes — this registered, because Simon in non-work clothes was still a man who looked like he had thought about what he was wearing, but the thought was different, less architectur

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

    Mara — Her Father's VoiceElder Brown called her on a Wednesday afternoon to tell her he had spoken to Emmanuel Cole.She was in the east wing — she had maintained her staff role through everything, not because anyone required it but because the work was familiar and familiar things had value when the rest of your life was in reconstruction — and she stepped out to the corridor alcove and answered."I called him yesterday evening," Elder Brown said. "We spoke for forty minutes."She leaned against the wall. "How did he receive it?""Carefully," Elder Brown said. "He's a careful man, your father. He listened to everything I said and he didn't speak until I had finished and then he asked me one question."She waited."He asked me if you were alright," Elder Brown said.She closed her eyes."I told him you were," Elder Brown said. "I told him you were in a complicated situation that you were handling with more grace than the situation deserved. I told him—" A pause. "I told him that I ha

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

    Simon — HartwellGregory Hartwell called on a Tuesday morning.Not through intermediaries, not through lawyers, not through the specific professional machinery that people in his position typically used when they wanted to communicate something and maintain deniability about the communication. He called Simon's direct line at eight fifteen, which meant he had the number from somewhere — not hard to get, but the act of using it directly was itself a statement."Simon," he said. As though they were colleagues who called each other regularly, which they were not. "I think we should talk.""We are talking," Simon said.A brief pause — the pause of a man recalibrating to a response that had not been warm. "I mean in person. Lunch. This week.""Why."Another pause. Longer. "Because I think we've been approaching each other as adversaries when we might be more useful to each other as something else."Simon looked at his desk. He had been expecting this call in some form since the Hayes arres

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

    Voss called on a Monday."We're moving faster than projected," she said. "The New York arrest gave us three new witnesses who were waiting to see if we were serious. We're serious. The grand jury is being convened in six weeks and I need your deposition before then." A pause. "In person, Mara. Downtown federal building. We need three days.""Three days," Mara said."Day one is your full account on record — everything you gave us in the initial session, formally documented with counsel present. Day two is the documents — the archive you built, the eleven operations, the corporate phase. Day three is the cross-examination simulation. My team needs to know how you hold up under hostile questioning before you go in front of the grand jury."Mara sat in the residential bedroom in the morning light and thought about what three days of formal testimony looked like. She had given the account once, in the Westwood law office, and had found the process clarifying rather than difficult — the tru

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

    Reeves called on a Thursday morning.Simon was at his desk at the downtown office — Century City, forty-first floor, the view that he had never fully stopped finding useful on difficult days, the way the city arranged itself below as a reminder that most problems were smaller than they appeared from ground level. He had been going through the Hartwell counter-strategy with his legal team for two hours and the call came in during a break and he stepped out to the corridor to take it."Hayes is in New York," Reeves said. "Midtown. He's been there since he left LA. We have him at a hotel on 54th Street and we have confirmation from two sources independently." A pause. "Voss knows. She's coordinating with the New York field office."Simon looked at the corridor wall. "How did you find this before Voss?""I didn't," Reeves said. "She told me twenty minutes ago. She thought you should hear it from someone you already trusted rather than cold."Simon processed this. Voss was a woman who thou

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

    Both — The First True ThingHe told her on a Friday.Not the last day of the two weeks. The ninth day. He had been at the downtown office that morning and he had come back at four in the afternoon and she had heard his car and heard him come in and heard, by the particular quality of his footsteps on the stairs, that he had decided something.She was in the sitting room. She was always in the sitting room in the late afternoon now, the chair by the window, the book she was sometimes reading and sometimes holding. He came in and she looked up and he looked at her with the expression she had named, finally, in the direction of — the face pointed toward something — and sat in the chair across from her.They looked at each other."I've decided," he said.She waited."I'm not ending the marriage," he said. "Not for the board. Not for my father. And not because I've resolved everything — I haven't. There are things I'm still carrying that I'm not done carrying and I think you know that." He

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER TWO

    Mara — Inside the WallsThe service gate opened at six fifty-three.Mara was there at six forty-five, in the gray-blue uniform that Hayes had left in the bag, her hair pulled back, her face arranged into the expression she had practiced — not blank, because blank drew attention, but neutral. Presen

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER ONE

    Mara — The Night BeforeThe gun was clean.Mara knew this because she had cleaned it herself, three times, the way she cleaned everything she could not afford to leave to chance. She set it on the kitchen table beside the open file and looked at them both — the weapon and the paper — the way a woma

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER EIGHT

    Mara — MessierDaniel Brown was not supposed to be hard.That was what she had told herself in the weeks leading up to it. Frederick had been the architect, the engine, the one who had looked at her father's world and decided it was worth less than his quarterly margin. Daniel had been the shadow,

  • THE BILLIONAIRE MARRIED HIS BROTHERS' KILLER    CHAPTER SEVEN

    Simon — The Weight of a NameHe did not sleep for three days.This was not unusual for him during crises — he had run on four hours and black coffee through the Hartwell filing, through two hostile negotiations, through the year his father had his first heart scare and Simon had essentially run the

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