CHAPTER 235: SHADOWS THAT NEVER SLEEP

The study had settled into a heavy silence once again, broken only by the soft clinking of glass as Arthur swirled the crimson wine in his hand.

It caught the dim light above, casting red reflections like blood against the crystal.

He didn’t drink it, he simply stared into its depths, as if trying to divine answers from its swirling vortex.

Across from him sat Billy, still grappling with the weight of everything that had been said. His throat felt parched, yet he didn’t reach for the glass of water before him.

Instead, he focused intently on Arthur, observing how his brother’s jaw clenched ever so slightly, a telltale sign of someone wrestling with a memory too potent to ignore.

Then Arthur stirred and looked at Billy with a simple smile. "Do you want to know when I first understood what true power felt like?"

Billy didn’t answer; he merely gazed at Arthur, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Arthur took a deep breath and continued, "It was the day I gave the order to erase the Sterling Family."

Billy’s eyes widened in shock. "You mean the ones who... killed our parents?"

"Yeah," Arthur nodded slowly, his gaze drifting back to the wine.

For a long moment, silence enveloped them. The fireplace crackled faintly in the distance, sending flickers of amber light dancing across the room’s dark wood panels.

The warmth in the air felt oddly cold.

Arthur finally took a sip and leaned back, his gaze drifting up toward the chandelier above. "Do you know what it felt like... to say those words and know they would die because I said so? To see each name of the Sterlings written on a holoscreen, tap a single button, and watch their lives vanish one after another?"

He let out a bitter laugh not from humor but something far older and heavier. "And the world didn’t bat an eye."

Billy whispered incredulously, "You weren’t caught? That’s what you mean?"

Arthur turned to him, his eyes weary yet unwavering. "Caught? Billy... The police never found a shred of evidence not a whisper or rumor, no cameras or witnesses, nothing."

"The files? Wiped. The recordings? Nonexistent. Every member of that family was erased as if they had never walked this earth."

He stood slowly and walked toward the tall window behind him, gazing out over Neo-Luminara’s glittering lights, the city blinked like stars on earth, blissfully unaware of the sins whispered within its towers.

"That... was when I first understood what it truly meant to be untouchable."

He turned back to Billy; his expression wasn’t smug or victorious,it was hollow.

"But here’s what they don’t tell you," he said as he returned to his desk and set down his wine glass.

"When you kill someone with your own hands, blood stains your fingers."

"But when you kill them with your words,the blood is on your soul"

Billy’s breath caught in his throat as Arthur’s profound words struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Arthur leaned forward, hands steepled, an intensity in his gaze that felt almost palpable.

"Every night since then," he began, his voice steady yet heavy with emotion, "I’ve heard their voices."

"Not screaming, not begging,just silence."

"It’s an echo, a void. The kind that no amount of noise can fill."

His eyes seemed to pierce through Billy’s very soul. "They haunt me,not because I regret protecting this family but because I know what I’ve become to do so."

Billy wanted to respond, to offer comfort or understanding, but the words stuck in his throat like a stubborn knot.

Arthur’s voice softened, barely above a whisper now. "I smile, I dine, I sign hundreds of billions in contracts; I command armies of influence and bend laws to my will."

"But some nights... I lie awake staring at the ceiling, wondering how many more shadows I’ll carry before I break."

Billy glanced down at his trembling fingers. "Big brother..."

Arthur rose again and approached slowly, placing a firm hand on Billy’s shoulder, a gesture both reassuring and grounding.

"That’s why I’m sharing this with you," he said seriously, his tone sharp as a dagger yet protective like an older brother shielding him from danger.

"Never kill."

Billy blinked in disbelief. "What?"

Arthur tightened his grip and met Billy’s gaze with unwavering intensity. "You heard me: never kill. Don’t even entertain that thought. Never order it or whisper it to anyone else."

He paused for emphasis before continuing with raw honesty: "If blood must be spilled to protect this family, let it be on my hands alone. I’ll bear the weight of that darkness."

He looked deep into Billy’s eyes,no walls up, no cold grin, just blistering truth laid bare before him.

"But you... you still have the light within you," he urged passionately. "Keep it alive! Even if the world mocks you for it or calls you weak."

"Because once you stain your soul," he added gravely, "you can’t wash it off not in this lifetime."

Billy’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths; he’d never seen Arthur like this, the composed leader who dominated boardrooms now revealing himself like an open wound.

"But..." Billy hesitated as his voice cracked under the weight of emotion. "You seem so strong."

Arthur chuckled faintly but sadly replied, "Because I have to be."

He released Billy’s shoulder and turned away again, folding his arms behind his back as if guarding against invisible threats.

"Strength is what the world sees; suffering is what it never bothers to look for."

A long silence enveloped them,not heavy or suffocating but filled with mutual respect.

Finally finding courage again, Billy spoke softly: "Thank you for sharing all this with me."

Arthur didn’t glance back, but a hint of warmth crept into his voice. "Don’t thank me just yet."

"Look, you’re still young," he continued, "you’ll make mistakes and stumble along the way."

"But if this conversation,even just a piece of it helps you stay on the right path, then maybe, just maybe, I can rest a little easier one day."

Billy rose slowly from his seat, words escaping him.

Yet, as he prepared to leave the study, he paused and bowed his head, not out of fear but out of respect.

Arthur finally lifted his gaze and offered a faint nod, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

With a soft click, the study door closed behind Billy.

Returning to his chair, Arthur picked up his glass of wine and stared into its depths.

"To power," he murmured softly. Then, without taking a sip, he set it aside.

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The thick wooden doors of the study groaned shut behind Billy, sealing him in a moment that felt heavy with finality.

He lingered in the hallway, his hand resting on the ornate handle, but his feet felt like they were anchored to the polished marble floor roots refusing to budge.

The air around him had shifted; it was denser now, colder, almost charged with unspoken truths.

And yet... silence reigned.

No shouts echoed off the walls, no blame hung in the air.

No scolding father or mocking siblings. Just an oppressive stillness that enveloped him like a thick fog.

Finally, he took a step forward, each footfall soft and deliberate against the gleaming marble of the Osborn estate, a floor he once trod barefoot in carefree arrogance, now transformed into sacred ground beneath his hesitant steps.

"Power..." The word lingered bitterly in his mind.

Arthur’s voice resonated within him, more commanding than ever before: "The first time I truly tasted power was when I ordered the execution of the Sterling Family."

Billy clenched his fists tightly as chills raced down his spine not from horror at what had been done but from understanding just how far his brother had fallen.

Arthur was no longer merely wealthy or an heir to a legacy; he had become a man capable of erasing entire bloodlines without leaving so much as a whisper behind.

He walked under the sun as if nothing had changed... yet sleep eluded him completely.

That line haunted Billy most: Arthur’s confession that power had left scars deeper than any physical wound.

And yet...

Billy didn’t fear Arthur.

No.

What coursed through him was far more complex: reverence mingled with fear, guilt intertwined with sadness and above all else? Clarity.

"I thought I was brave when I walked out," he mused quietly to himself. "But really? I was just naive."

His gaze drifted toward the grand portraits lining the hall, the Osborn family tree shimmering in gold leaf: grandfathers and mothers, uncles and aunts, all captured forever in glass and time.

As he caught sight of his own reflection faintly mirrored in one frame, recognition eluded him.

His jaw had hardened; those youthful baby cheeks were long gone, replaced by something sharper and more defined.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that had transformed; something deep within him had shifted irrevocably.

He recalled what Kaia once said to hik when they where moving boxes at the YoruMart, "This world is cruel, Billy,people like us? Without protection? We’re just food, entertainment, disposable."

She was right.

He hadn’t believed her then, thought he could survive on sheer guts and stubbornness alone.

He thought he could rewrite life’s rules and defy expectations but reality proved otherwise.