“No way,” Brady said, shaking his head. “They already think I’m a loser. If I had backed down, they would respect me even less. It’s just a few punches—nothing major… Ow!”
“You…” Hadley exhaled, exasperated. “At least Zane was there to step in.”
At that, Brady and Zane exchanged a quick glance. They both thought the same thing—Eric had been there too. Hadley seemed oblivious to this. Should they tell her?
“The ginger tea’s ready,” the servant said, entering with a tray that balanced two cups, steam curling into the air.
“Quickly now,” Hadley said, handing one to Brady and the other to Zane. “Best while it’s still hot.”
“Oh,” Zane murmured.
“Thanks,” Brady said absently.
Hadley studied her brother—his shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on nothing. “Any word from Colleen?” she asked.
Brady hesitated, cup in hand, then gave a quiet shake of his head. “I’ve put her in an impossible place—between her family and me.”
Colleen was the one being torn in two, and it was evident she bore the heaviest weight.
“Brady,” Hadley said gently, “whatever she chooses… you can’t hold it against her.”
She hated having to say it, but someone needed to.
“Why would I?” he asked, frowning as he shook his head again. “This mess… it’s on me.”
But was it, really?
Hadley bit back her response. No—it wasn’t his fault. It was the legacy his parents carried, the one Colleen’s family couldn’t accept. The same legacy that had once made Hadley herself push Brady away too.
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And really, who ever got to choose the blood they were born into?
Brady, worn thin by worry, tipped his head back and drained the tea in one long gulp.
“Go take a shower,” Hadley said softly, her eyes tracing the exhaustion etched into his features. She didn’t press him with more words. “You need rest. Stay here tonight.”
There was no shortage of rooms in the house. She had even made up a guest room earlier while tidying—just in case.
“Alright,” Brady murmured. Setting his empty cup down, he rose to his feet.
Hadley stood as well, half-ready to guide him upstairs, but then remembered Zane still sat quietly across the table.
She shifted gears. “Second floor—third door on the left.”
“I remember,” Brady said.
“I’ll send someone up with some clothes in a bit.”
“Okay.” He turned and headed upstairs, his steps heavy and unsteady.
Hadley watched his retreating form, unease tightening in her chest. She then turned to Zane. “Zane…”
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