Page 58 of A Mistake of Identity
“You knew.” It wasn’t a question.
Lucas met his gaze steadily. “It wasn’t my secret to tell.”
“Father said I was beautiful,” Jean said, his forced brightness slipping. “That I could help the family... entertain his associates. Be charming.” His laugh held an edge of hysteria. “The board presentation, the investigation, suddenly everyone’s whispering about why one of the Saint-Clair heirs had to be kidnapped back from the Rohan Estate. Why he ran in the first place.” He straightened in Lucas’s arms. “Father’s friends are terrified of the scandal. No one’s going to... to touch me now. Henri made sure they understood what would happen if anyone tried to claim their old ‘privileges’ in the middle of the investigation.”
“That was generous of you, Henri,” Gabriel said, studying his brother more closely. Something was wrong. Henri’s usual easy confidence was nowhere to be seen.
“The kid means a lot to Lucas. Lucas means a lot to you.” Henri’s voice was rough, exhausted. He rubbed at his neck, the movement causing his collar to gap. “Just wanted to do something right for once.”
The glimpse of dark marks ringing Henri’s throat stopped Gabriel’s breath. In two steps, he had Henri’s arm, the sleeve sliding up to reveal more bruises disappearing under his cuff.
“Everyone out.” Gabriel’s voice left no room for argument.
Lucas immediately swept Jean into his arms, earning a delighted squeal as Jean wrapped his arms around his neck. They disappeared through the door in a tangle of limbs and breathless kisses, Jean already whispering something in Lucas’s ear that made him walk faster.
Alain moved more deliberately, his eyes flickering between Henri’s collar and wrist. When his gaze met Gabriel’s, the message was clear: he’d seen the bruises, too. He closed the door behind him with a soft click.
Henri immediately moved away, putting Gabriel’s desk between them. Without his usual polish, the designer suits, the rakish grin, the carefully styled hair, he looked... young. Fragile. The shadows under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights, his usually immaculate appearance showing signs of strain. For the first time, Gabriel let himself really look at his brother, see past the carefully crafted playboy facade to the exhaustion etched in every line of his body.
“You look like shit,” Gabriel said quietly.
Henri laughed, the sound brittle. “Thanks. Your concern is touching.”
“Why were you at the Saint-Clair estate? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?” Gabriel watched his brother fidget with his sleeve, trying to hide the bruises. “And don’t tell me it was all for Jean’s sake.”
Henri wouldn’t meet Gabriel’s eyes. Something in Gabriel’s tone must have cracked his defenses because when he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “You rememberwhen La Sauvegarde took that hit? Back when you were finishing high school.”
“The market crash.” Gabriel frowned, remembering the stress of that final year of high school, when everything seemed to fall apart just as he prepared for college. “Father pulled us through somehow.”
“No.” Henri’s laugh was hollow, nothing like his usual practiced charm. “Olivier Saint-Clair pulled us through. Offered us an exclusive contract with his property insurance division. Still one of our biggest accounts.” He paused, fingers finding his collar again. “He didn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart.”
“What are you saying?”
“Marc was...” Henri swallowed, seeming to shrink in on himself. His words came slowly, as if each one hurt. “Marc was becoming a problem. Started with small animals—”
“What started with small animals?” Gabriel’s voice cut through Henri’s rambling, though he feared he knew the answer.
Henri seemed to collapse further into himself. “Torture.” The word fell like lead between them. “He—he liked to see how long they’d last.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Then, his younger brothers. Olivier was worried he’d get out of hand. So he offered Father a deal, a generous insurance contract to save La Sauvegarde, in exchange for... for giving Marc someone to practice being human with.” His voice softened, and for a moment, Gabriel saw his little brother at seven years old, desperate to please. “I was good at it too. Marc said I was the only one who saw him. Who didn’t judge him for being different.”
“Different?” The word tasted like acid in Gabriel’s mouth. His brother had been handed over to a budding psychopath—a monster who’d graduated from torturing animals to tormenting his own siblings.
The truth hit Gabriel like a physical blow as memories realigned themselves: Henri’s mysterious accidents over the years, the cocaine that had appeared in his teens—not rebellion, self-medication. All the signs he’d ignored, dismissed, choosing to believe in Henri’s carefully constructed image of the carefree playboy. His baby brother, almost a decade younger, had been just seven years old, while Gabriel had been consumed with college applications and preparing to take his place at La Sauvegarde...
“You were seven.” The words came out like broken glass.
“Marc needed me.” Henri’s voice took on an almost tender note, but without his usual polished charm, it just sounded broken. “Still does. You don’t understand. When I’m there, when I’m good, he can be so different. Sometimes he even...” His arms crossed protectively over his midsection, the gesture making him look impossibly young. “I just have to try harder. Not make him angry. And he was not happy that I wanted to bring Jean back to you. To Lucas. It took some convincing.”
Gabriel studied his brother’s face, really seeing him perhaps for the first time in twenty years. The dark circles under his eyes weren’t from late-night parties. The slight tremor in his hands wasn’t from too much coffee. The careful way he held himself wasn’t sophisticated poise but pain. How long had Henri been silently screaming while Gabriel chose to see only the mask?
“What did you do?”
Henri smiled sadly at him. “Nothing I haven’t done before. It’s alright, though, I promise.”
“Let me help you.” Gabriel took a step forward, his voice rough with desperation. “Please, Henri. We can get you away from him. I can protect you—”
“Protect me?” Henri’s laugh was brittle. “Like you protected me before?” The words should have been accusatory, but they came out tired, matter-of-fact. “No, Gabriel. This is who I am now. This is what I’m good at.”
“That’s not true. You’re my brother—”
