Chapter 19 - Cruel Brothers

Chapter 19: Chapter 19 - Cruel Brothers

Neither of her brothers answered.

Leonard swirled the scotch in his glass and watched the amber liquid catch the light, like it was the most interesting thing in the room. Mason adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and gazed out the window at the river, his thin smile never wavering.

They looked like two men who’d been asked about the weather.

Marie stood in the middle of the office and waited.

The antique clock on the wall ticked. Somewhere far below, a ferry horn sounded on the East River.

"I asked you a question," Marie said. "Why did you file an eviction notice on Jesse without involving me?"

Leonard finally set his glass down on the side table with a soft clink.

"Because it wasn’t necessary to let you know." He said it plainly, the way a man explains something to a child. "Especially since we’ve suspected for a while now that you’d gotten close to our traitorous late sister."

Mason turned from the window. Both of them fixed their eyes on her.

They were waiting for her to deny it. She could see it on their faces. They expected her to stammer, to act offended, to tell them they were being paranoid. It was what she would have done a year ago. Five years ago. Thirteen years ago.

Marie lifted her chin.

"You’re right," she said. "I did."

Mason’s smile slipped for half a second.

"I visited Emma every week for the last two years of her life," Marie went on. "I sat with her through chemo. I paid for some of the treatments her insurance wouldn’t cover. I was there when she couldn’t keep food down, and when she couldn’t remember what day it was, and when she asked me to take care of her son after she was gone."

She looked from one brother to the other.

"And I would do the same thing for either of you if you were in Emma’s shoes. That’s what family does."

Leonard’s face darkened. "Family."

"Yes. Family."

"Emma stopped being our family the day she decided to protect that thief," Mason said. His voice was soft, almost pleasant, which was how Marie knew he was furious. "You understand that, don’t you, Marie? You’re siding with the enemy—"

"Our late sister was not anyone’s enemy," Marie cut him off.

The office went quiet.

Mason blinked. Nobody interrupted Mason. Not in this building.

Marie didn’t give him time to recover.

"But fine. Leave Emma out of it. Let’s talk business, since that’s the only language either of you understand." She stepped closer to the window, between them and the view. "I know why you want that building. Astoria’s real estate is exploding. You want to gut the place, renovate, and triple the rents. I understand it. It’s a good investment."

"Then what’s the problem?" Leonard asked.

"The problem is that Jesse lives there. And instead of dragging him through the courts and turning this into a circus, you could just reach an agreement with him. Give him somewhere else to stay." She spread her hands. "We own hundreds of properties in New York. Apartments in Manhattan. Brownstones in Brooklyn. Half of Long Island City. Jesse could live in any one of them, and he’d be out of that building by the end of the month. Everybody wins."

For a moment, neither brother said anything.

Then Leonard laughed.

It was a short, ugly sound with no humor in it at all. Mason joined in a second later, a quiet chuckle that made the hair on the back of Marie’s neck stand up.

"Give him a place to stay," Leonard repeated. "Did you hear that, Mason? She wants us to give Jamie Byrne’s son a free apartment."

"I heard."

Leonard leaned back in his chair. "We’re not doing that, Marie. It would defeat the entire purpose."

Marie frowned. "The purpose?"

"Having Jamie Byrne’s son end up homeless." Leonard picked his glass back up and took a slow sip. "On the street. Sleeping in a doorway. Begging for change on the subway. That’s the purpose."

Marie stared at him.

She had known her brothers were hard men. She had known what they were capable of.

But she’d never heard either of them say something like that out loud. So calmly. Like it was a line item on a quarterly report.

"Why?" Her voice came out quieter than she meant it to. "Why are you taking out your aggression on an innocent young man? He was a child when it happened, Leonard. Just a child."

Mason took off his glasses and polished them slowly on the corner of his tie.

"Have you forgotten, Marie?" he asked. "Have you forgotten the hole we just climbed out of?"

He set the glasses back on his nose.

"Jamie Byrne cost this family over four hundred million dollars. Father trusted him. Father practically handed him the keys to the vault because Emma vouched for him. And when it all came crashing down, it wasn’t just the money. We lost our standing. Our connections. Senators stopped taking our calls. Banks stopped returning our emails. Do you know how many board seats we lost? How many deals fell through because nobody wanted to be in business with Jamie Byrne’s in-laws?"

"I know—"

"It took us thirteen years to crawl out of that hole," Mason went on, his voice never rising. "Thirteen years. Father died before he saw us get back on our feet. The stress killed him. You know that."

Marie pressed her lips together.

"I know all of that," she said finally. "I lived through it too. I lost as much as you did."

"Then you understand."

"No. I don’t. Even with all of that, father let her stay in that house." She shook her head. "He didn’t kick her out, so none of it is enough to punish the son for the sins of his father. Jesse didn’t steal that money. He didn’t run. He stayed, Mason. He stayed and took every single punch that should have landed on Jamie, and he’s still taking them."

She looked at Leonard, pleading now.

"Please. Just reach an agreement with him. Don’t turn this into a war. It’ll make a huge mess for everybody, and for what?"

Leonard set his glass down again.

"Someone has to pay for the hell Jamie Byrne put this family through, Marie." He stood up from his chair, tall and heavy, and buttoned his jacket. "Jamie isn’t here. So if it’s his son who pays, then so be it."

Marie looked at him for a long time.

She searched his face for something. Doubt. Guilt. Some small piece of the older brother who used to carry her on his shoulders at the Fourth of July fireworks.

She didn’t find it.

She looked at Mason. His smile had come back, thin and patient.

She wasn’t going to change their minds.

Marie picked up her bag from the couch and slung it over her shoulder.

"Fine," she said. "Then I’ll deliver the message Jesse asked me to give you."

Leonard raised an eyebrow. "A message? From the boy?"

"He said he won’t give up that house without a fight."

There was a beat of silence.

Then both brothers chuckled again. Mason shook his head like he’d just heard a child threaten to run away from home.

"A fight," Leonard said. He walked over to the walnut desk and rested one hand on it, looking down at his sister. "Well, if the boy wants a fight, he’ll get one. We have an army of lawyers, Marie. The best in the city. They’ll squash him like a bug."

He smiled.

"Tell him that, next time you see him."

Marie said nothing. She turned and walked out of the office, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She didn’t slam the door.

But in the elevator on the way down, alone with her reflection in the brass, her hands were shaking.

And she was already scrolling through her contacts, looking for the number of a lawyer her brothers had never heard of.