{Kai}
Leavenham was quiet in a way Kai did not trust.
The countryside stretched endlessly beyond the car window, green fields rolling beneath a pale sky. Too peaceful. Too still. Places like this always hid rot beneath their charm. That was why he was here.
"This land will double in value in five years," Kai said, eyes fixed ahead. "We acquire now or we regret later."
William sat beside him, arms crossed, gaze drifting lazily over the fields. "You talk about land like it breathes."
"It does," Kai replied. "It breathes money."
William scoffed. "Not everything has to be a transaction."
Kai finally glanced at him. "That is exactly why Father sent you with me."
They stepped out of the car near a stretch of farmland marked with small flags. A local representative greeted them, babbling nervously about zoning laws and permits. Kai listened. William did not.
By midday, the tension that had followed them from London finally surfaced.
"You do not listen," William snapped, stopping in the middle of a dirt path. "You decide everything before anyone else speaks."
Kai turned slowly. "I decide because hesitation costs millions."
"And empathy costs nothing," William shot back. "These people live here."
Kai's jaw tightened. "This is business."
William laughed, sharp and humorless. "You always say that when you do not want to feel guilty."
Silence stretched.
"If you want to play savior," Kai said coldly, "do it somewhere else. Do not embarrass me in front of investors."
William stared at him, disbelief flashing across his face. "You care more about land than people."
"No," Kai replied quietly. "I care about control."
William shook his head and stepped away. "I need air."
He walked down the road without looking back.
Kai watched him go, something uneasy settling in his chest.
"Have two men follow him," Kai said into his phone moments later. "At a distance. Do not interfere unless necessary."
Hours passed.
The meeting ended. The sun dipped low. Still no William.
By nightfall, Kai returned to the stone estate just outside the village. Inside, the house was cold and silent. He poured himself a glass of Lagavulin sixteen year old whiskey, watched the amber liquid catch the light, then set it aside untouched.
His thoughts refused to settle.
Instead, he reached into his coat pocket.
The locket was cool against his palm.
He opened it carefully.
Inside was a photograph of a little girl with dark hair in uneven plaits, eyes too serious for her age. Beside her stood an older boy, his face scratched out long ago.
Kai's thumb brushed the edge.
"Soon," he murmured. "Just a little longer."
Miles away, a girl with the same eyes was already running.