There was silence for a very long time then James broke the silence, his voice firm. "Have you tried explaining things to him? Telling him your side of the story?"
Robert sighed, leaning back in his chair and pressing a hand to his forehead. "I’ve tried, James. Many times. After your mother eloped with me, I reached out to Marcus. I wrote him letters, called him, even showed up at his doorstep numerous times. But he only got mad and wouldn’t listen. At this point, there’s nothing I can say to change his mind."
Robert sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he continued. "He believes Evelyn didn’t die of natural causes. That someone—maybe even me—hastened her death."
The words hung in the air like a cloud, heavy and suffocating.
James’s voice dropped, cold and steady. "Why would he think that?"
Robert looked away, his gaze distant. "Your mother’s decline was... sudden. Too sudden for some to accept. Marcus always suspected foul play, but he never had any proof. And now, after her passing, it seems he’s decided to act on those suspicions."
James studied his father closely, his sharp eyes searching for any signs of deceit. "Is there any truth to what he’s saying? Anything you’re not telling me?"
Robert’s head snapped up, his voice firm despite his exhaustion. "No, James. I did everything I could to save her. I loved Evelyn with all my heart. Whatever Marcus thinks, he’s wrong."
James’s brows furrowed as he considered Robert’s words. After a moment, he said, "Then let me talk to him. I’ll explain everything—show him who I am and what really happened. Maybe hearing it from me will make a difference."
Robert’s head snapped up, his expression immediately turning stern. "No, James. Absolutely not."
James frowned, crossing his arms. "Why not? He’s my uncle, and if there’s even a chance I can get through to him—"
"Because he’s dangerous," Robert interrupted, his tone sharp. "You saw what he just did. Marcus isn’t thinking rationally, he’s blinded by his anger and grief. I won’t let you put yourself at risk."
"I can handle myself," James countered, his voice calm. "I’m not afraid of him."
Robert’s gaze softened, but his tone remained serious. "It’s not just about handling yourself, James. Marcus is unpredictable. And if something happened to you... I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself."
Marcus wasn't rugged or muscular enough to cause damage if they were to fight one-on-one, so there's nothing to worry about. James clenched his jaw, his frustration evident, but he said nothing more.
....
The Sullivan's Mansion~
Bill Sullivan sat at the edge of a leather armchair, swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand as the news replayed on the flat-screen TV.
The image of James Robert William stepping onto the stage, flanked by bodyguards, played on a loop.
Bill clenched his jaw, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the glass tighter.
“That bastard,” he hissed, slamming the glass onto the table. The whiskey splashed, staining the polished wood, but Bill didn’t care. His mind raced.
His sharp features were twisted in anger, his usual smug demeanor replaced with barely concealed fury, “He did this,” Bill growled. “He planned the whole damn thing. He played us.”
Even though Bill was angry, he stayed calm, knowing that losing control would only make things worse. James wasn’t the same man they had looked down on a few months ago. He was now the richest man in the world, worth trillions—a title that was real and not just made up.
—
Late one evening, while James was working in his private office, a new email notification pinged on his laptop. The message was sent to his personal email account—one so secret that not even Bella or Robert knew of its existence. Confused about how this person got his email address, James clicked on the email.
---
>James,
I don’t know how else to reach you, but I need your help. Evelyn’s death wasn’t natural. I don’t have proof yet, but something is very wrong.
My name is Marcus Carter. I’m your uncle and Evelyn’s brother
---
James leaned back in his chair, the events of the day replaying in his mind. He couldn’t shake the memory of Marcus’s fury—the raw, unfiltered rage of a man who truly believed he’d been wronged.
The more James thought about it, the more questions he had. His mother’s death, Marcus’s sudden appearance, and now, this accusation against Robert—it didn’t add up.
His eyes fell on an attachment at the bottom of the email. He opened it, revealing an old family photograph.
The image showed a younger Evelyn standing beside a man—Marcus, presumably—with a striking resemblance to her. Her warm smile and familiar features made James pause.
He stared at the photo for a long moment before typing a brief reply:
> I’ll meet you. Where and when? 
Minutes later, the reply came through:
> The Blue Raven Bar, 8 PM tomorrow. Please come alone.
---
The Meeting
The next evening, James parked outside The Blue Raven, a quiet, dimly lit bar tucked into the corner of the city. Inside, the air smelled of sin and whiskey, and the room was sparsely populated. James, now awfully popular, had to put on a nose mask and sunglasses to avoid being spotted by people and the paparazzi. 
In the farthest booth sat the same guy who had caused a scene just the day before. His sharp features bore an undeniable resemblance to Evelyn.
James approached him. 
Marcus smiled happily and gestured for James to sit. “It's nice to see you again. Sit down.”
James slid into the booth, his expression unreadable. “Start Explaining”
Marcus exhaled deeply, regretting that his first conversation with his nephew was cold and questioning, lacking the trust and warmth he'd hoped for. “Evelyn left the family years ago, cutting ties with everyone. It hurt, but I respected her decision. I stayed away because I thought it was what she wanted. But now, she’s gone, and I can’t stay silent anymore.”
James spoke next. “You’re suggesting her death wasn’t natural. Why would you think that?”
Marcus leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Yes, because it doesn’t add up. Evelyn was getting better, wasn’t she? Then suddenly, she deteriorated and passed away. I’ve been going over her medical records, and while I don’t have solid proof, something feels wrong. And…” He hesitated.
“And what?” James demanded, despite knowing where he was going.
Marcus’s gaze darkened. “I suspect your father, Robert.”
“That’s a heavy accusation. I need more than speculation,” James said firmly.
“I know you don’t trust me,” Marcus said. “But Evelyn was my sister. I loved her, and I need answers as I feel you do. If I’m wrong, we’ll both have closure. But if I’m right, we can’t let this go unpunished.”
James stared at the photo attached to the email address on his phone, his chest tightening. Finally, he said, “I’ll look into it. But if I find out you’re lying—”
“I’m not,” Marcus interrupted. “I want the truth and I need your help to get to that truth.”
****
Back in his car, James pulled out his phone.
“Jordan,” he said when the call connected. “I need you to investigate something. My mother’s death. Start with her medical records and see if there’s anything suspicious.”
Ending the call, James gripped the wheel tightly. If his father had anything to do with Evelyn’s death... 
No, he could never doubt his father. The man was the one who cared for his mother the most than anyone else. James was sure that his father loved his mom— it was written boldly in his eyes.