Chapter 11 - My Brother Took His Revenge to the Internet
The woman's name was Hannah Cole.
She was twenty-nine, dressed in a dark wool coat, and looked as though she hadn't slept properly in several days.
Rebecca met her first.
Until we understood the source and nature of the documents she claimed to possess, I stayed out of the conversation.
Meanwhile, Silas was making another decision.
One that would turn a private family disaster into a public spectacle.
At 9:17 that morning, he published a lengthy Facebook post.
By 9:40, it had been shared more than two hundred times.
The headline read:
MY MILLIONAIRE BROTHER DESTROYED OUR PARENTS ON CHRISTMAS BECAUSE WE WOULDN'T GIVE HIM CONTROL OF MY COMPANY.
I first saw it because a colleague sent me a screenshot.
Silas had attached a photograph of our parents.
My mother looked distraught.
My father sat beside her with his head lowered.
The post described me as wealthy, vindictive, and obsessed with controlling the family.
According to Silas, I'd spent years using money to manipulate our parents.
He claimed that after an ordinary disagreement at Christmas dinner, I withdrew their mortgage assistance and orchestrated the cancellation of a startup investment worth $2.5 million.
He mentioned Felix only once.
A minor accident involving spilled food was deliberately exaggerated to justify his retaliation.
I read that sentence three times.
An accident.
Exaggerated.
My son had been frightened enough to ask whether he was still allowed to have Christmas.
And my brother had reduced him to a convenient footnote.
The comments were already multiplying.
Some expressed sympathy for my parents.
Others questioned why financially independent adults were relying on a son to pay their mortgage.
Several noticed the contradiction between Silas presenting himself as a successful entrepreneur and simultaneously claiming he couldn't survive without my support.
But the post was gaining attention.
Fast.
I called Rebecca.
"Have you seen it?"
"Yes."
"What should I do?"
"Nothing publicly yet."
"He mentioned Apex."
"I know."
"He's accusing me of abusing my position."
"And we have documented evidence of your recusal. Let the firm's legal team respond through appropriate channels."
I paced the room.
"He called Felix's injury an exaggeration."
Rebecca's voice softened.
"I understand why that hurts."
"No, Rebecca. He doesn't get to do that."
"Then don't give him the reaction he's trying to provoke. Preserve the post. Let us handle the factual statements."
I ended the call and walked into the living room.
Felix was sitting with Julian, who had come over after our meeting, building the model rocket.
"You need to attach this part first," Felix explained patiently.
Julian studied the instruction sheet.
"You're the engineer. I'm just the assistant."
Felix giggled.
I watched them for a moment.
Then I went back to my office.
By noon, Silas had uploaded a video.
My mother appeared in it.
She was seated on the living room sofa, holding a tissue.
"I don't understand why my oldest son hates us," she said tearfully.
My father sat beside her.
"He was always difficult," my mother continued. "But we never imagined he'd go this far."
Silas's voice came from behind the camera.
"Tell them what he's doing to the house, Mom."
"We might lose our home."
"And why?"
She wiped her eyes.
"Because Gideon refuses to help us."
Not one word about Felix.
Not one admission about the casserole.
Not one acknowledgment of the enormous amount of money I'd already contributed.
I closed the video.
An hour later, another message arrived from Hannah.
Rebecca forwarded it after obtaining permission.
I saw Silas's post. Please tell Gideon I have proof that his mother knew the video was misleading before they recorded it.
Attached was a screenshot of an internal message.
Silas had written:
Keep the story about the mortgage. Don't mention what happened to the kid. People will take our side if we stay focused on family betrayal.
I stared at the screen.
My brother hadn't lost control.
He was calculating.
The same way he'd calculated his startup expenses.
The same way he'd calculated how much personal credit I might continue providing if he praised me just enough to keep me agreeable.
But Silas had made one serious miscalculation.
He believed that because I'd stayed quiet for years, I would remain quiet forever.
That afternoon, a new email appeared in Rebecca's inbox.
It came from the restaurant-style home security company that maintained the cameras at my parents' house.
May you like
They had confirmed that the dining room system retained footage from Christmas evening.
And someone with administrative access had tried to delete it on December twenty-fifth.
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