Caesar

CHAPTER TWO • SPITE

The room is pale yellow as the light rays from a huge chandelier which stands above the bed brightens it. Frequent coughing is heard as various maids stand by the side of the bed close to a huge fire place.

A wrinkled man lies on the bed, his hand clutches on to his blanket as he coughs loudly. His pale skin, paler than that of a dead person. His hand goes up to his mouth and covers it with a napkin as he coughs out blood. By the right, there are servants, who stand lined up rendering to his every need and by his left, his four sons line up from oldest to youngest.

All his sons stand by his bed and Ricardo, his youngest watches his father cough through narrowed eyes. His father loathed him, there was no way he would name him his heir. To make matters worse, he was birth by a mistress not by the legal wife.

"Father, are you okay?" Ammon, his eldest brother and probably the future heir asked interrupting his thoughts.

Ricardo shifts his gaze to Ammon, his brown haired brother and so did the rest of his brothers. Nobody cared for that old prick except from Ammon. He always acted with so much integrity and nobility that he irritated all of his brothers. He cleans the old man's blood off his mouth with a napkin and tears fall down his strong face.

The old man pulls him closer in a hug as he whispers some words to him and more tears fall down his cheeks, wetting his golden garments.

"There isn't any guarantee he'd pick you to your brothers... Make sure that doesn't become a problem!" Caesar's voice rings in his ears and he knew what Caesar meant . If he didn't become the heir, Caesar would toss him away like trash and replace him with one of his brothers. Caesar had no patience for useless people and his Father's position as supreme lord of the reigns was essential in his plot.

His heart beats fast. He reminds himself that he is the son of one of the lowest ranked mothers amongst his brothers, No one ever cared for him or treated him with compassion, only Caesar did. Caesar was like family to him. He cared for him when no one did and he didn't hide the fact he was using him, unlike the others. He couldn't afford to be useless.

His Father speaks loud, breaking the silence and raiding his thoughts.

"My sons, as i lay on..." he coughs out blood staining the white napkin beneath his chin as His eyes wander looking at the faces of all his children. They move but become still as they turn facing Ricardo, his youngest son.
"You...What are you doing here?...who let him in...?!" He asks with spite in his voice.

Ricardo sighs. He hated this man, in fact he couldn't stand him and he knew the feeling was mutual. His eyes narrow as he watches the spite in his father's eyes as they bore into him, staring at him with rage.

He bows to his father. His thin lips curve into a demonizing smile as he bends his head low, when he brings it back up, a sad expression is on his face with droplets of tears falling down his cheeks.

"Father, i really wished...i had changed my ways...if i had been a better son!..." Tears fall down his cheeks and all his brothers are wide eyed puzzled by his deceptive acting, his brothers look at him tongue tied.

His Father looks up at him. His wrinkles forming three straight lines on his forehead, his thin sickly lips part slowly.
"Boy, do you view me as a dumb old fool? Now that i am dying, you want to pretend nice...to cheat and deceive your old man... because of inheritance...?" He coughs out blood as he speaks.

Ricardo just bows down then walks out of the room without answering his father. He had a plan and he had to start executing it before he is tossed away like trash.

"Ricardo!...you brat...Ricardo...!" His Father says while coughing out blood. Ammon holds him and pats his shoulders slightly.

He looks up ordering his younger brothers.
"Find your younger brat!"

****************

Diana's feet drag slowly on the mud. Her eyes are pouring down tears slowly down her face. The same eyes look at a wooden sign board with writings written with ink, though her vision is blurry, she reads the sign board. "Daizuy Gambling House!" Her legs stiffen in the spot as the tears vertically walks down her cheeks.

Her hands hold on to the rusty lock. She pants feeling reluctant to open the door. After a few seconds, she swings it open. The voices of various men chattering, women singing and some even giggling, cards slammed against the table, men wrestling because of foul play sounds loudly as the place gets more rowdy with each passing second.

Her tiny feet moves slowly while her eyes sharply scans everyone's face in search of her husband. Cards slams hard against the table and the hand which slam it against the table is bare, not wearing it's wedding ring. If she knew no better she would have looked away but she knew her husband by every feature and body part he possessed, all his birth marks and scars, all his pains and woes were stored permanently in her head like her core memory. She could even afford to forget things of utmost importance to her but she hardly ever forgot anything about her husband, not even the trivial things.

On his laps a beautiful lady sits, her hands rub his back as his eyes are focused on the game.

"I bet 50!" He shifts his cards and his hands go into his pockets bringing out her money; her borrowed money!

The tears fall down her cheeks in oceans. She stands there unable to speak as the words eludes her lips, her feet unable to move, her eyes stagnant unable to stop staring at her husband 'her supposedly sick husband!"

The men surrounding her husband laugh and one fat man dressed in silken clothes speaks out.
"You have been placing bets and continuously, you have lost...i would say 50 is too big a bet for someone of your status...!"

Her husband laughs out. His roughened brown hair shakes slowly as his mouth spits out senseless words.
"I bet 70!...if you think i am unable to pay...you can take my wife...!"

Her jaw drops, the tears now rush in gallons down her cheeks, wetting her upper garments. Her hands are clutched, her eyes stare in disbelief but her lips are pressed hard together unable to speak.

"She's young...very young...has an explicit figure...very seductive id tell you...and she's tasty down there...and her buttocks are like...!"

"ANDREW!" She finally manages to call out, her voice teary like her mouth wept too, her legs are wobbling as she holds on to a pole.

He looks at her but in his eyes there is nothing like shame or remorse, his lips part into a burning snare. His brown eyes stare back at her with hatred and spite in them - like a butcher ready to slaughter a cow.