Marcus

Marcus’s POV

I pulled out another copy and pushed it towards him. “Thankfully, I expected your irrationality, dear brother.”

He looked at the paper but didn’t bother touching it.

“So, back to my question…”

He reclined in his chair and heaved a deep sigh. “You don’t care for my dreams, Marcus. You don’t care for my goals, my de—”

“I don’t,” I cut in sharply. “I can’t even pretend to.” I flicked the ballpoint pen between my forefinger and thumb. “I care for the Sterling dream. I care for the legacy my father built.”

He bent over and burst into laughter, clutching his belly. “You talk like he isn’t my father.”

“I care for my father’s hard work!” My voice had risen a notch. “I couldn’t care less about anything else. I’ve given my life, lived for this family…” I stopped and gripped the edge of my table. My breathing was shallow as I struggled to regulate it. I was slowly losing control, almost unraveling, nearly exposing myself to my little brother. I couldn’t have him see me weak—not ever