As Chloe drove Bella ho that evening after the days work, the car was silent.
It was Chloe who broke the quiet. "So..." she began, her tone careful, "what are you planning to do about Raymond? He confessed to you, right?"
Bella’s lips pressed into a thin line. She had known the question was coming — Chloe never let things sit too long without poking at them. Slowly, she exhaled, watching the passing headlights blur across the glass. "Yes, he did a d there’s nothing to be done about it," she said at last. "I’m going to stay away from him. That’s what’s best."
Chloe glanced at her, brows lifting. "Stay away?"
"Yes." Bella shifted in her seat, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her bag. "The more I get involved, the ssier it becos. He doesn’t need adding to his troubles, and I... I can’t afford to get entangled in his world. Not when I’ve spent years trying to build mine back from the ground up." Her voice faltered, softer now. "It’s safer if I keep my distance."
For a long beat, Chloe said nothing. The hum of the tires against the road filled the space instead. Then, finally, she nodded. "I think you’re right."
Bella turned to her in surprise, expecting Chloe to argue, to insist she give Raymond a chance.
But Chloe kept her eyes on the road, her expression unreadable. "He’s complicated, Bella. You’re already carrying enough. Sotis the best way to help yourself is to not take on soone else’s storm."
The words settled heavy in Bella’s chest. She faced the window again, her reflection blurring with the streaks of rain beginning to fall. She told herself she should feel relieved — Chloe agreed with her. She didn’t have to justify her choice.
So why did it feel like the car was quieter than it should be, like the silence between them pressed harder than before?
Bella wrapped her arms tighter around herself, the thought repeating in her mind like a mantra. Distance is safer. Distance is best.
Still, her heart thudded with an unease she couldn’t na, even as Chloe turned down their street and the glow of ho finally ca into view.
Away from there, Raymond’s apartnt door clicked shut behind him, the quiet echoing through the dimly lit space. He tugged off his jacket, dropping it carelessly over the arm of the couch before rubbing a weary hand across his face.
The day had been long. Too long. His mind still carried the weight of Bella’s gentle rejection, of Jake’s smug shadow lingering everywhere in StoneTech. All he wanted was silence — silence and maybe a stiff drink to chase away the sting.
But the mont he rounded the corner to his living room, he froze.
Jake was already there. Sitting casually on the edge of the armchair like he owned the place, sleeves rolled up, his posture relaxed in that deliberate way that had always grated on Raymond.
Raymond’s jaw tightened. "Seriously? Again?"
Jake didn’t move, his gaze steady. "I told you, we need to talk."
"No, you need to leave." Raymond’s voice was sharp, the kind that usually ended conversations. He strode toward the liquor cabinet, grabbing a glass and filling it with whiskey, his back to his brother. "I’m not in the mood for another lecture about how perfect you are."
Jake sighed, leaning forward slightly. "Ray, I’m not here to rub anything in your face."
Raymond turned, drink in hand. "Then what? To sit there and remind how Dad handed you everything? How I was never good enough?"
The words were venom, and for a mont, Jake’s expression flickered. But instead of rising to the bait, he stayed calm. "I didn’t ask for it, Ray. Do you understand that? I didn’t want to take everything from you."
Raymond laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "Right. You just... accepted it. Like always."
Jake stood then, closing the space between them slowly. "What was I supposed to do? Refuse? Hand it back and watch Dad pull every trick he knows just to hand it back to ? We both know how that ends."
Raymond’s grip on his glass tightened, but he didn’t speak.
Jake exhaled, his tone softer now. "It wasn’t my choice, Ray. But I don’t want you thinking it ans you’re nothing. That’s not what I think or dad, even. He may not show it but he likes it when you try harder."
Raymond’s chest constricted, the fight in him colliding with sothing he didn’t want to admit which was the truth in Jake’s words.
Jake pressed on. "You’ve always had big ideas, Ray. The hotels, the logistics company, expansion into new markets... I hear you talk about it all the ti. And you’re good. Damn good. If you keep working like you are now, proving yourself every step, I can make sure those companies are yours. The Florittle hotel group, the Sweliss hotel, even the logistics group. They can all be yours to run. Not as favors — but because you’ll deserve them. I have the power so I can transfer them to you."
Raymond blinked, caught off guard by the certainty in his brother’s voice. "You’d... give that?"
His mother had told him those sa words and he’d been even more angrier but sohow, hearing it directly from Jake sort of elevated his spirit.
"Yes." Jake’s answer was imdiate, steady. "But you need to et halfway. Show them. Show him that you’re not just the ’reckless second son.’ Work hard, prove your worth, and when the ti cos, they won’t be able to deny what you’ve built."
For the first ti that night, Raymond’s anger faltered, replaced by a sting of hope. He set his drink down slowly, running a hand through his hair.
"You don’t know how it feels, Jake," he muttered, his voice quieter now. "Standing in your shadow. Watching them look at you like you’re the sun and I’m just... a mistake they regret."
Jake’s expression softened. He reached out, resting a hand on Raymond’s shoulder. "You’re not a mistake. You’re my brother. And I want you by my side in this, not against , please."
Silence stretched between them. Raymond stared at the floor, his throat tight, torn between pride and the ache of wanting to believe. Finally, he nodded once, a shaky exhale slipping past his lips.
"Fine," he said roughly. "But don’t make promises you can’t keep."
Jake gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "I won’t. We’ll do this together, Ray. You’ll see."
Raymond finally t his gaze — and for the first ti in years, he didn’t actually see his rival. He saw his brother.
The tension that had knotted his chest for since the night before began to ease. Maybe, just maybe, this didn’t have to end with him losing everything.
As Jake sank back into the chair, Raymond picked up his glass again — but this ti, he raised it toward his brother in a quiet, tentative toast.
"Then here’s to proving them wrong," he murmured.
Jake clinked his glass with his, a small smile breaking through. "Together."
The Stones were no longer divided. They were a team.
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