Or he could be making up a very big lie to suit his own purpose—whatever that was. “And you’re telling me this now because...”
“I don’t know.” Soren lifted his glass only to stop when he saw it was empty. “Could be an act of kindness or the mere fact I’m drunk off my ass and tired of you looking down on everything that shouldn’t be yours to begin with.”
The low hum of chatter blended and blurred into a buzzing ring in Henrik’s ears, the world darkening around the edges. Hold it together. He clenched the glass in his hand, the liquid surprisingly steady given the trembling state of his nervous system.
“An act of kindness?” How the fuck did his brother define this as kindness? If what he was saying was true, then Henrik was a...bastard. One claimed in name by a man but was never truly accepted by him.
Fucking A. The gigantic puzzle piece fell into place, filling the gaping hole he’d lived with his entire life. His derisive snort cut through his nostrils in a harsh gust. “It explains so much.”
Soren’s grim smile was too pleased for Henrik to believe his motives were altruistic. “He gave you the benefit of his name. You should at least appreciate that.”
Did it even matter now? He was almost thirty years old and far past ever expecting his father’s approval, let alone acceptance. He’d made his own name and money his way, without the help of his father or his precious lineage. And it still wasn’t good enough for anyone in his damn “family.”
He raised his glass to his brother in a mocking toast. “Congratulations.” Soren’s brows winged up, confusion cracking the superiority he clung to. “Dad’s all yours. In fact—” Henrik gestured at the room. “It’s all yours.” He gave a nod, the truth unfurling in his chest. “You’re right. I’ve never wanted any of it.” And now, thanks to his darling brother, he had no guilt acknowledging it.
His chest clenched with a mix of anger and relief. His entire life had been built on a lie. The deceit had been set before he’d been born, and he’d carried the unknown weight of it ever since. The injustice rolled in at that point, digging at the hurt that already clung to his battered heart.
It was a wonder the damn thing could still function.
“Well, that’s a good thing.” Soren chuckled, his arrogance charging back along with another glass of scotch that he snagged from a passing server. He stepped to Henrik’s side, gaze scanning the room. “Because dear old Dad shared his will with me last month, and you aren’t in it.” He paused for effect no doubt. “Apparently, Dad believes Mother’s side of the family should be responsible for your financial health, and we all know how Grandma Hedberg favored you in her will.”
The majority of the Hedberg family trust had been left to him with his mother getting a large portion of the rest. Soren had received a token amount, which he apparently resented even though it’d had seven figures attached to it.
Henrik’s stomach heaved, acid flooding his throat. He quickly swallowed then did it again. Fuck if he’d let his smug brother see how close he was to hurling all over his mother’s precious wool carpeting.
It all came down to money. For Soren. His dad. Even his mother. And that had always been the least important thing to Henrik.
He gritted his teeth against angry retorts clamoring for voice on his tongue, the tight hold aggravating the throbbing pain building in his temple. “Did you dump this on me to warn me about my lack of inheritance or to gloat?” he managed to ask with a relatively cool tone.
Soren’s off-handed shrug said it all. The asshole probably didn’t know or care. It’d served whatever agenda he had, and that was all that mattered. Like father, like son.
Henrik forced a slow inhalation through his nose. His tie was slowly constricting around his neck, choking out the very breath he’d just taken. Once again, he didn’t belong.
He wasn’t a Grenick—had never really been one. Not by blood.
Had his grandmother known? Was that why she’d left so much of her trust to him? It wasn’t the music connection, but a way to make up for his mother’s mistake?
He found his mother on the far side of the room, his laser stare drilling her with the bevy of questions spinning wild in his mind. Why? Who was his father? Did