MY BESTFRIEND’S BROTHER, MY RUIN의 모든 챕터: 챕터 11 - 챕터 20

"What the hell are you wearing?"Ignatius gripped the doorframe of the dressing room, his knuckles white against the dark wood. He didn't come inside. He just stood there, his chest heaving, nostrils flaring as he sucked in the air. The room was thick with it. Sandalwood. Expensive tobacco. The heavy, pressurized scent of a boardroom. It was the only cologne Cane ever touched.Rafferty didn't look up. He adjusted the collar of his shirt in the mirror, his fingers steady. He smoothed the fabric over his throat, hiding the faint, fading yellow of the bruises Ignatius had left days ago."Raffy. I'm talking to you." Ignatius took a step forward, the floorboards groaning under his weight. He smelled like sweat and the bitter edge of cheap gin. He reached out, grabbing Rafferty’s shoulder and spinning him around. "That's his. Why do you smell like my father?"Rafferty lifted his chin. He didn't shrink back. He let his gaze drift over Ignatius’s disheveled hair and the bloodshot tracks in hi

"He’s in the Chairman’s office. Again. Third time this morning."The whisper cut through the sterile quiet of the executive floor like a serrated blade. Ignatius froze outside the breakroom, his hand tightening around a lukewarm cup of coffee until the cardboard buckled."I heard he’s getting a corner office," another voice muttered, followed by a sharp, mocking snicker. "Ignatius used to run this place. Now he can’t even get a signature without the boy’s thumb of approval. Who’s the real boss?"Ignatius slammed his cup into the trash bin. Coffee splashed over his polished shoes, but he didn't blink. He marched toward his own office, but the usual rush of interns scattering out of his way didn't happen. They stayed at their desks. Some didn't even look up. His authority was a rotting corpse, and the smell was getting worse by the hour.He checked his phone for the fiftieth time.The blue bubbles of his sent messages were a long, pathetic row of unanswered pleas.Raffy, answer me. Raff

"Where the f**k are your shoes, Raffy? Get them. Now."Ignatius stood in the center of the guest suite, his eyes bloodshot and pacing like a caged animal. He kept twitching, his hand flying to his jacket pocket where the heavy outline of a burner phone sat. The room smelled of his frantic sweat and the bitter tang of the gin he'd been swigging since the board meeting."We’re leaving," Ignatius snapped, grabbing a duffel bag and shoving a pile of Rafferty’s shirts into it. He didn't fold them. He crushed the silk. "I’ve got a place. North. Up in the mountains where the reception is sh*t and my father’s security detail can’t track the GPS. It’s a safe house. We stay there for the weekend, let the heat die down, and figure out how to fix this."Rafferty watched him from the edge of the bed. He didn't move. He didn't sign. He just watched the way Ignatius’s hands shook as he zipped the bag."Don't look at me like I'm crazy! I’m saving you!" Ignatius lunged across the rug, grabbing Raffert

"Eat it, Raffy. It’s the pasta you liked. Remember? That place in the city with the red curtains?"Ignatius shoved the chipped ceramic plate across the pine table. The steam from the sauce hit the cold, damp air of the kitchen. He was trying to smile. The expression looked like a wound. His hair was a greasy mess, and he’d scrubbed the blood from his knuckles, but the skin was still raw and weeping."I even found the right wine. Well, close enough." He popped the cork on a bottle of cheap Merlot, the sound echoing like a pistol shot in the silence of the woods. He poured two glasses, his hand shaking until the liquid sloshed over the rim. "We used to be good, right? Before he got into your head. Before he started acting like he could just take what I built."I didn't touch the fork. I sat on the wooden chair, the hard edge digging into my hamstrings. My throat was a desert. The scent of the food made my stomach churn. I didn't look at the pasta. I looked at the heavy oak door. I looke

Gemini said"Ignatius. Get him out of my sight."Cane didn’t look back. He stood in the center of the cabin, the heavy soles of his boots grinding splintered glass into the floorboards. Two men in black tactical gear stepped from the shadows of the doorway. They grabbed Ignatius by his broken arms."Dad! Wait! You can't just—" Ignatius choked on a mouthful of blood. A gloved hand slammed over his mouth, silencing the bubbling plea. They dragged him toward the fleet of SUVs idling outside. The red and blue lights of the private security detail pulsed against the pine trees, rhythmic and cold.Cane turned. His eyes were flint. He reached out, his thumb catching a smear of red on Rafferty's jaw. He wiped it away, the pressure of his skin bruising the bone."Get in the car, Rafferty. We’re done here."The drive back to the estate was a hollow vacuum. No music. No words. Only the hum of the tires and the scent of gunpowder clinging to Cane’s wool coat. Inside the gates, the limestone walls