Deny Me

Chapter 1

Pete could vaguely remember the first time he set foot inside the minor family mansion. But he remembered being in his late teens, knuckles bloody and eyes bloodshot and vacant from crying and shock.

It was supposed to be a normal night, at least for Pete, whose normal night involves searching for a drunk father in a gambling den and taking him back home, praying that he still hadn't lost all the money to a bad bet. But tonight was different. Pete was not just looking for his father to bring him home but to also retrieve the money he stole from Pete's grandma. The hard-earned money that the old lady was trying to save for his grandson's education with the hopes of giving him a better life, away from the boxing ring his father had forced him into.

But then Pete's father told him the money was gone. Drunk and laughing at Pete's attempt to run away from this life he was born into, calling him pathetic and beating him up. Pete wasn't supposed to fight back. He was used to his father's beatings but the rage of being ridiculed over and over again blinded him. Before he can think, his arm swings, landing a solid punch to his father's jaw, who stumbles to the ground. After the first hit, Pete can't bring to stop himself from landing punch after punch, until he hears nothing but his heavy breathing, his father has gone still.

Coming to his senses, he stopped his fists, and as his eyes cleared after he wiped his tears, that's when he realized what he had done. Just like that, he wasted his future and his dreams for a good and better life.

"He looks dead to me," a voice from behind said, and Pete started to panic.

"I'm not-I, I don't-"

"First time?" The man asked him, no, a kid probably around his age but dressed maturely. How can he be so calm when he just witnessed a parricide, like asking about it is like asking about the weather.

"You know, it will take a few minutes for someone to notice what you did. So you better start talking so I can help you," the kid says again when Pete does not reply.

"Why?" The words escaped his lips before he could stop it.

"What do you mean why?"

"Why would you help me?" He clarified and he noticed a smirk forming on the other's face, making him look like the devil in disguise.

"You're so smart to ask me that. Well, for starters, I'm bored, and believe it or not, I sometimes help those who are in need," he replied chuckling at some inside joke Pete isn't privy to. "You can consider me a good Samaritan, that is if a good Samaritan is willing to help someone cover up a murder," he added and snickers again at his own sick joke.

"What's the catch?" Pete knows at an early age that nothing in the world is free. Everything comes with a price, even good deeds and favors.

"Ah, I like you already. You're gonna make a good errand boy."

"Errand boy?" He parrots because he can't think of anything else to say and he doesn't fully understand what the other kid is talking about.

"Yes. My previous errand boy got killed in a crossfire, blast his poor wicked soul for trying to sell me off to another mafia family, so yeah. I'll be needing a new one and you happened to be lucky enough to be at the right place at the right time."

Pete blinks slowly as he lets the words sink in. Errand boy, mafia, murder. He felt his legs give up as he slowly slid from the wall to the ground. 'What has my life become?'

"I'll take your silence as a yes. Unless you want to go to jail and rot there," the kid says again before he takes out his phone and barks orders to the cleaning team.

Later on, he learned that the kid's name was Vegas and he was a year older than Pete. He also learned he is a mafia heir who has a bad temper and a trigger-happy psycho who loves violence in any form. He knows this because Pete has been directed to some of Vegas's wrath during his first few months of employment when he made a few mistakes, which isn't entirely his fault. After all, Vegas seemed to assume that people can read his mind and he hates Pete showing compassion to others.

"Your kindness has no place in the mafia. Your compassion will kill you." He once told Pete, hands clasped around his throat when he found out Pete had been lenient in collecting money from the vendors in their territory.

"It has to hurt so you would remember." Vegas used to say when he was disciplining Pete, ensuring that the bruises and cuts reminded him of the lessons Vegas had taught.

After a while, he learned how to act around his boss. Pete was able to master Vegas's mood swings and has learned when to step in and step back, how to hold himself back when Vegas took beatings from Khun Gun, his father, and how Pete would silently tend to his wounds and bruises afterward, even if his employer thrashed and would occasionally hit him before letting Pete patch him up.

"You'll take care of hia, right?" Macau would ask and Pete would say yes, even if taking care of Vegas means getting hurt, either by Vegas himself or by others.

"P'Pete, you'll play with me right?" Macau would ask and Pete would say yes because he promised Vegas to take care of his younger brother, even if Macau is a brat sometimes.

"Macau adores you. He'll listen to what you say," Vegas would tell him when he would ask Pete to make Macau do something and the kid was being stubborn.

"You're the best, P'Pete!" The kid would squeal when Pete would bring him sweets.

Pete vaguely remembers the first time he set foot on the minor family mansion. Now he's in his early twenties and as ironic as it sounds, this had become his home.