𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 | 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | ✓

Chapter 32

𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘔𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘤𝘰.

Once darkness had overtaken twilight it was time for the creatures of the night to prowl the streets searching for their next hapless victim; these beings are known as Gangsters. The White Swan Casino is their favorite place to harbour. From the top floor inside his room, Neon could hear the throaty laughs of men carousing and the coquettish giggles of woman flirting. He hated it.

What he hated more was the reflection glaring back at him in the full-sized gold-rimmed oval shaped mirror attached to the biege wall on his room. He was dressed in a custom-made white suit crafted by Versace and Armani suit designers. White diamonds forming snowflake patterns adorned his room white jacket, peaking from under it is a V-neck silk tailcoat. He had on long white pants that draped over his white, gold bottom shoes and in his right hand was a gold cane with a dazzling red ruby on top. His hair was in a sleep combover hairstyle with little strands over his left eye. His look finished off with white gloves band a diamond studded 24k Cuban link and a Lion head pendant–both laying on his chest.

According to what his 'brothers' say, his father once wore this suit when he k!lled a former Mafia boss–the one that once ruled their rival gang. They also said he is the splitting image of his father. Neon, who didn't even know he had a father, hasn't spoken over ten words since he arrived. He's merely praying this is some form of dream that he'd wake up from and go home to his friends and Meira, he didn't even get to give her the pink pearl necklace he bought her. It's taking everything in Zayde to not break down and cry.

“Little Saint, can we come in?” Zamora asked from outside the door, which made no sense as he let himself in anyway. “Has anyone ever told you you look good in white? Because you absolutely do. Just like our father. You look so much like him. Here's a picture of him,” he walked to Neon and handed him a blurry picture.

It was a photo of a man and his mother. The man had these exotic eyes, an almost exact shade of his. He wore a white suit, had dirty blonde hair, bore a panty-dropping smile showcasing his pearly white teeth and had a star-shaped birthmarl on his left wrist; just like he and his brothers had. This man could be his indentical twin brother. They looked the same, only, the man was obviously older.

“I just know we're the adopted siblings. How come you look like Dad but we don't?” Zorion entered and rested his head on Neon's shoulder. “How are you feeling little brother? Nervous? Don't be, the boys don't bite, unless we have to.”

“Dad...” Neon looked at himself in the mirror. “Why didn't he raise me? Why did he leave me with mom?”

“He never wanted us. You're lucky you were sent to Arkville, we grew up in Cuba,” Zamora tucked some of his golden locks behind his ear. “He said we didn't look like him, therefore we weren't his children, but because you did he kept you close just in case. From what El Diablo told us, he cared about you, he sent thousands to millions every year so you would be well fed and taken care of. He just never visited. We weren't so lucky, he forgot about us, to him you were his only child. El Diablo said he'd always ask your mom for pictures of you. At one point he wanted to come get you, but your mom ran away with you.”

“Oh. She...used to blame me for ruining her relationship,” Neon returned the picture and continued to stare at his reflection.

“She was his wife, but he divorced after she got pregnant. She had all three of us. At the hospital he made us get sent to Cuba to live with an infertile couple he was friends with, then made you stay with our mom. There's not much more I know, or El Diablo won't tell because he's a total a**,” Zamora rolled his eyes and glanced at Neon.

“I heard that,” The Devil stopped spinning his knife and leaned off the wall to walk to the three.

“Doesn't matter,” Zamora eyed El Diablo then touched Neon on his shoulder. “Little Saint, it's time.”