My Severe Brother

ch 18: No, mom first

Peter's pov

We wrapped up our classes for today, and they were draining. Exhaustion enveloped me; all I craved was to head home and crash into bed.

"Hey Pete, let's smoke and then go home," Miles suggested.

"I can't, Luke is waiting for me," I gestured towards the car.

"Oh shit, fine. You'll be missing the fun."

I offered,"Wanna ride?"

"No, call you later, pretty boy," he winked.

"Stupid, bye," I chuckled.

I hopped into the car. "Hey, Luke."

"Hey, Pete, do you like the school?" he asked.

Pete? Did he just give me a nickname? Nice.

"It's still boring an tiring." I whined. 

He laughed. "That's how school is!" 

I nodded and grabbed my phone, intending to pass the time until I got home. I noticed some notifications. I opened them. Messages from Ken revealed they wanted the money tomorrow at 6 pm, or they would hurt my mother. I quickly typed a response.

P: I can't find the money, I need time.

K: Jesus, do  you know how much he pays for that fucking school?

How did they know about the school? Ohh, Adrian.

K: We need the money urgently.

P: I'll try my best.

Oh shit, how can I find all this money? Damn this thing. Should I tell him? Why didn't he search for my mom? Wait, my mom is not his. Did Dad cheat on his mother with mine? Maybe that's why he hates me.

I entered the house, recalling his warning about the third floor. It seemed mysterious, and I couldn't resist the urge to explore.

Upon reaching the third floor, I attempted to open the locked rooms, all requiring a password except for one. I managed to enter that room, revealing two beds and a television. As I opened the closet, I found blankets, some clothes, water, and food.

Then, I stumbled upon a case. It was easy to open, and as I did, my eyes widened at the sight of an impressive amount of money. I began counting until I reached the sum meant for the Blackstone. I took it and pocketed some extra for myself—I needed to pay the dealer.

Surveying the room further, I discovered more cases. One contained a safe key, another held numbers for various bank accounts—useless stuff.

To cover my tracks, I hacked the cameras so he wouldn't know I had been there. Continuing my search, I found a variety of items: guns, secret doors, encrypted notes. It became increasingly clear—my brother was involved in something akin to the mafia. Well, it didn't seem, he actually was in mafia.

As I delved deeper into my brother's mysterious belongings, my hands stumbled upon a photograph of a man. Strikingly similar to both Cole and me, could he be our father? His face was so familiar. I didn't know where I had seen him.

At 10 pm, I sat in the living room, engrossed in an episode of Teen Wolf on Netflix when he entered the house. There was no usual greeting from me.

"Close the TV and go to sleep," he ordered.

Yes, that's all he did—issue commands. No inquiries about my day at school or how it went.

"Cole, can you tell me about my dad?" I finally mustered the courage to ask.