Claimed By The Tyrant Brother
“I never was. I joined my first gang when I was fifteen. By seventeen, I was running three corners. By twenty-two, I was cleaning blood off my own shoes and burying men deeper than their legacies.”
My throat tightened.
“And all the while,” he continued, voice low, “I was building Aetherion. Layer by layer. Publicly, it was clean. Underground, it was my safety net. My leverage. My ghost.”
I stared at him. “So you ran a mafia and a tech empire at the same time?”
His lips twitched humorlessly. “Duality, little fox.”
I exhaled slowly, eyes burning. “And when you met me… when you came after me… it was because you said Caleb took everything from you.”