Arranged Marriage (BoyxBoy)

The Monkey's Brother

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"Daddy!!!"

A little girl screamed in terror, held back by her Papa as they both watched in terror as the man they both loved so dearly upended over the railing, plummeting to the cold, hard cement four floors below.

************ Weeks Before Our Story Began ***************

*3rd Person - Paxton Arel’s POV*

"... is still in critical condition," the stalwart newscast woman reported coldly after the heartrending clip captured all on tape two days before. "After being pushed over the railing of a fourth floor patio, in what is being called the most malevolent hate crime since the legendary Stonewall Inn shooting in Greenwich Village."

Paxton Arel threw whatever was in his hand at the television screen angrily. Seething with malice towards his elder brother the man now more than rightly deserved. The telecast words going in and out of focus to his ears.

"In custody for the atrocious murder is ... Arel, brother to Arel Industries Paxton Arel whose only comment on the situation was that 'they have been estranged for some time now with good reason'. His only other comment was to say that he believed it to be disrespectful to the bereaved family for him to comment anymore at this time." Paxton got to watch a clip of himself saying just that. Why did they quote something by route only to play the recording of it a moment later?

Whatever. Not his problem. The upcoming quarterly demand was. That and the merger he'd hoped to finalize by next spring with Sluski Orchestrated, whose co-owners just happened to be a homosexual couple, Rebecca and Jasmine Targonsluski. Both of which were now on hiatus because of his bigamist, ass munching older brother. He knew it was worth the investment to buy out his brother's share of the small industry they'd inherited from their parents, but he'd never thought his hard headed oaf of a sibling would ever bare his stupidity so very...there was no word for this level of evil and stupidity that summed up the entirety of his brother’s being.

"All this," the feminine stiff shirt went on, "a mere ... after the finalization of the ... bill, set for ..., that will legalize same sex marriage throughout the state. With registries, revenues, and the like back listed straight through ...”

As if Paxton hadn’t calculated for himself over a hundred times just what kind of demand the bill was going to generate!

“Expected wedding registries that were projected to provide a substantial windfall for ... industries, such as Arel Industries. One must now wonder whether Arel Industries will now be finding itself left in the dust..."

Paxton tuned out the rest of her blathering, sinking into a plush vinyl visitor's chair to wallow in depression for a moment. He needed to calm down or he'd have to whether yet another dullard physician's lecture about his heart and blood pressure. He was getting old, why did people have to make such a fuss about it?

Of course, he was beginning to make a fuss about it too. He thought of the will he'd just had updated, witnessed, and notarized since adopting his eight year old niece. His desk held one ornate frame with a candid family shot a friend had gotten during his son, Gabriel's, eighteenth birthday party last June. Gabriel. Paxton worried about his son. He was a good boy a bit into that rebellious stage of punk, or Gothica, or whatever they were calling it these days. But, Martha and Paxton had lucked out. His friends were good, honest kids. They'd never had to worry about alcohol, drugs, or even smoking. For posh sake, they had to urge his friends to pry their little wallflower out of his ‘boy cave’ – as Martha called it – and go to outings, parties and the like. Shy, polite, soft spoken.