Page 54 of They Call Him Reaper

Luckily, my next order of business didn’t require me to leave the city and raise suspicions. While I have been on my own path of vengeance, I’ve thwarted someone else’s attempts to get their revenge on me. I didn’t do anything in particular to earn this level of hatred; my mind is just stronger.

I left Andrea’s home after Inaya fell asleep and worked my way across town, undetected by the dumbasses who were assigned to monitor me. The old version of myself would have made them disappear permanently, but I’ll allow them to do their jobs. I’m guilty of a lot of deaths, but they’ll never know. I refuse to go down for the one person I didn’t kill.

Originally, I was so distracted by having my identity exposed and keeping my wife calm amid the scandal, that I felt stupid once I realized all of this isn’t at the hands of Father. It’s a cry for attention from someone else. I work through the shadows like I used to when I worked alone.

I turn in a small circle of the penthouse I’ve just entered. Too flashy. Everything screams of riches that are dying to be shown off. A cash flex for no reason. I hate it. I’ve always hated it, warned against it. It is better to be remote and fly under the radar, but my advice was never taken. Everything is white, like the asylum in which he should be locked.

“You’re breaking and entering now, old man?”

His attempt to highlight our ten-year age difference doesn’t bother me since he’s always been childish.

“Abel? That’s dramatic. Shouldn’t you be Cain since you’ve been dying to kill me?”

Carlos stares at me, his green eyes burning with hate. Although he’s an adult, I still see the angry ten-year-old he became after two years of captivity. Two years, that’s all it took for Father to completely break him to build him in his image. No matter how much I tried to intervene, Carlos wasn’t savable.

Father took all of us for different reasons, and Carlos is fulfilling his role. My nemesis. While an eight-year-old can’t be considered a sociopath, Father knew Carlos struggled to make connections with people at school. The kidnapping made sure it’d be near impossible. Father is the only person he cares about, and all his anger is directed toward me.

“You are the older brother.”

Shorter than me, Carlos puffs out his chest as if it’ll make him bigger. He’s always resented not growing past 5’7”. I had no bearing on his height because we’re not real siblings.

“We’re not brothers at all,” I remind him. “He took both of us. We would have been better off with our own parents.”

“Our parents hated us! Mine fled our burning house and left me there!”

I shake my head since Father is a master manipulator. After my suicide attempt, he purposely poisoned Carlos against me while reminding me that he’ll only live if I continue to be a good soldier. “No. He burned down the house to kill your parents so he could take you.”

I remember Father leaning over the bed he’d tied me to, bragging about obtaining Carlos while he still smelled like smoke from the fire he started. Carlos walks to my side, like he’s preparing to fight. The snake tattoo on his neck-another thing I advised against-dances when he cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders. I keep a straight face, although I’m amused. He couldn’t beat me even if his life depended on it. He’ll never be as good as me; he lacks the necessary focus.

“You’re a fucking liar, and that’s why Father hates you. Why are you here, brother?”

“Again, I’m not your brother.”

Before he responds, he rubs the scar on his lip that I gave him a few years ago. He should have learned his lesson then.

“That’s your problem. No sense of loyalty to Father.”

Father had more loyalty from me than he deserved. I was the main keeper of his secrets and while most of me hated him, I blindly did his bidding out of habit. I’d accepted it as my life until Andera opened my eyes. Carlos won’t be so lucky. He’ll die trying to please Father.

“I came to tell you to stay out of this,” I answer him. My voice sounds steady, but the threat is clear in my eyes. Carlos steps back a little, but squares his shoulders more in defiance. “Leave us alone and stop trying to frame me.”

“Too late,Dante.It’s all been set in motion. Once you’re on lockdown, I’ll take my time killing Inaya and that rat inside of her.”

This moment is one of the perks of being taught to suppress my feelings. I don’t fall for simple goading. I simply make a mental note to cut out his fucking tongue, then torture him, knowing that he cannot scream. The more he talks, the longer his death will take.

He may lack feelings, but I’m colder. He cannot lose what he doesn’t feel. But I know how it feels to have my emotions beat out of me until I’m numb. I can turn my feelings on and off now, but his hatred of me will always make him sloppy.

“And then what?”

He tilts his head like a lost puppy at my question. “What?”

“Your dream is to frame me, then kill my family. What’s after that?”

He laughs like I’m joking. “I’ll get you released.”

“That plan make sense to you?”

Carlos has the same aliment as any supposed mastermind before him. He talks too fucking much because he thinks he has won. He still doesn’t see that I’ve always been in control, that he’s prey to be toyed with until it’s time for the kill. I could have killed him and gotten back in bed before Inaya would have ever awakened, but opted to allow him to hang himself instead.

---