At first, the guilt had nearly drowned him.
Lee had tossed and turned the entire night after sending the recording. His fingers hovered over the delete button more than once. It was still his father. The man who had raised him. The man whose voice he had once trusted. Whose laugh had echoed in their home. Who had taught him how to tie a tie, how to drive, how to smile in rooms where he didn't feel welcome.
But that night, listening to that voice again through his phone's tiny speakers, all he could hear was venom. Bitterness. A man drunk on power and blind with hate. He didn't hear a father anymore. He heard a monster.
Lee had known the family was fractured, but never to this extent. Never poison. Never planned murder. Never hiring someone to kill the only man who had ever tried to fix their broken legacy.
Travis didn't deserve it. Not the accident. Not the betrayal. And definitely not the constant whispers behind his back, painting him as unfit to lead.
