Page 18 of Claimed By The Other Brother

"Someone had to," I say simply.

"And I ran to Chicago." Miles takes another drink.

"Easier to chase stories than build empires."

I don't disagree. We both know it's true.

"Miles." I keep my voice level.

"You're getting married in two days. Let's not rehash ancient history."

He nods, taking the out I'm offering.

"You're right. Sorry. Pre-wedding jitters making me philosophical."

"Coldfeet?"

"No. Not cold feet. Just..." He trails off, checking his phone again.

"Just a lot of change happening at once."

I watch him, noting the tension in his shoulders, the way he can't seem to sit still. This is Miles. Always restless. Always second-guessing. Always one step away from backing out of whatever commitment he's made.

Some things never change.

"Marriage is a big commitment," I say carefully.

"It's normal to be nervous."

"Yeah." He finishes his drink in one swallow.

"Yeah, everyone keeps saying that."

We sit in silence for a moment. Brothers who used to share everything, now struggling to fill the gaps in a single conversation.

"I should get going," Miles says finally.

"I'm meeting the groomsmen for dinner tonight. Bachelor party stuff."

"Of course." I signal for the check.

"Tomorrow night. Rehearsal dinner at Marcello's. Seven thirty."

"I'll be there."

We stand. Another awkward embrace. Another shoulder clap.

"It's good to see you, Dax. Really."

"You too, Miles."

I watch him leave, weaving back through the bar toward the exit. My younger brother. Still figuring out who he wants to be. Still running from anything that requires him to fully commit.

I settle the bill and order another scotch. The bartender brings it, and I sit alone in the dim corner, thinking about responsibility and ambition and the different paths two brothers can take. Miles chose freedom. I chose legacy. I'm not sure either of us is happy with our choice.

By the time I get back to my suite, it's after six. The sun is setting over Chicago, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. I stand at the window for a moment, watching the city transition from day to night.

My phone buzzes. Work emails. A text from my assistant about tomorrow's schedule. Another from my COO flagging an issue with one of our acquisitions. I respond to the urgent ones and silence the phone.