Chapter 2 - The Crash on Fenwick Road
Mason drove too fast from the moment they left the city.
Rain had begun to fall, turning Fenwick Road into a shining black ribbon through the wooded hills.
Declan sat in the passenger seat and repeatedly told him to slow down.
Mason ignored him.
He had spent the evening at an exclusive club celebrating an investment deal Charles had promised to give him. He was furious because several executives had questioned whether he was qualified.
“They still think you’re the intelligent one,” Mason muttered.
“This is not about me.”
“It is always about you.”
The car accelerated.
Declan reached toward the dashboard.
“Pull over.”
Mason slapped his hand away.
“Do not touch my car.”
“It belongs to the company.”
“Everything in that company will belong to me.”
Ahead of them, a small delivery van entered the intersection.
The traffic light was red.
Declan shouted Mason’s name.
Mason slammed the brake too late.
The Fenwick spun across the wet road, struck the side of the van, and crashed against a stone barrier.
The next thing Declan remembered was the smell of deployed airbags.
His ears rang.
Rain entered through a shattered side window.
Mason was conscious, staring at the road with wide eyes.
The van driver, Daniel Cross, did not move.
Declan unfastened his seat belt and reached for the door.
“We need to help him.”
Mason grabbed his arm.
“No.”
Declan turned.
“What?”
“If the police find me behind the wheel, I’m finished.”
“A man is hurt.”
“You had two drinks at dinner.”
“You had at least six.”
Mason’s grip tightened.
“You are the engineer. You took the prototype. You were testing it.”
Declan pulled away.
“I’m calling emergency services.”
Mason began crying.
Not from guilt.
From panic.
“Please,” he whispered. “You know what Dad will do if this destroys the company.”
Declan called for help and climbed through the damaged passenger door.
He reached the van and tried to assist Daniel until paramedics arrived. When the police asked who had been driving the Fenwick, Declan looked toward Mason.
Mason stood beside the road, holding his injured wrist and shaking.
Before Declan could answer, two Vale Automotive attorneys arrived.
They had been sent by Charles.
One attorney pulled Declan aside.
“Your brother says you were driving.”
“That is a lie.”
“Think carefully before you create a public scandal.”
“A man may be dying.”
“And destroying two lives will not save him.”
Daniel Cross died at the hospital.
The district attorney arrived at the station before sunrise.
By then, Charles and Victoria were waiting in a private interview room.
Victoria rushed toward Declan.
For one hopeful second, he thought she intended to comfort him.
Instead, she whispered, “Tell them you were driving.”
Declan stared at her.
Charles closed the door.
“Mason has a future,” he said.
“So do I.”
“You are older. Responsible. You understand consequences.”
“I did not cause the crash.”
Charles placed both hands on the table.
“If Mason is charged with driving under the influence, the company will lose investors. Thousands of employees could lose their jobs.”
“That is not my fault.”
Victoria began to cry.
“You have always been stronger than Mason.”
The familiar sentence struck Declan harder than the collision.
You are stronger.
You need less.
You can survive.
For years, those words had been used to justify giving him nothing.
Now they were asking for his freedom.
Declan refused.
May you like
Charles’s expression became cold.
“You should reconsider before we discuss what evidence the police will receive.”
