Stepbrother | ✔︎

5 | irenic

irenic [ i-re-nic ]
adj. promoting peace

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Five words I would use to describe myself would be the exact same five words that I would use to describe someone with little to no hope. It's not the way I want to view myself, but it's the way evidence can prove. As my eyes skimmed over the picture of me, I could just feel hope drain itself from my body.

It was my senior picture. I don't know exactly how he got it because father had passed away before he even got the chance to buy them. My eyebrows knit together in confusion as I stared down at me.

"What did he do to those girls?" I asked. My eyes wouldn't allow me to look up. They remained focused on a smiling photo of me. A photo where the thought of my mother didn't exist, where none of this had become a reality.

"Well, let's just say Vincenzo doesn't exactly show affection to women," Angelo chuckled out. I wanted to slap him in his face for making this seem like some kind of joke. Instead, I tried to put pieces together about what this could all mean.

"He killed these women. Why?" I asked.

"Now, now. No one said he killed them, he just didn't choose them," he spoke. This caused confusion to burst through the walls of my brain even more. Finally, I looked up at him to see he was still wearing that smirk on his face.

"I can see that you are confused. In this business, we have to do certain things in order to get what we want. Since my son is too young, he has to sacrifice his own bachelorhood to get the deals needed. He needs a certain someone. So, your mother and I set him up with those women-each one he hated more than the last. When they were declined, they were each given a choice, and the choice they chose, was death," he explained.

My eyes subconsciously moved to the door, ready to make a run for it. I'm not sure where I would go exactly, but all I do know is that it is going to be far away from here.

"Why am I included with them?" I ask, trying to maintain a calm voice. A voice that wouldn't reveal the fact that my heart is beating over a thousand beats per minute.

His smirk turned into a smile. He held out his hand for me, leaving me to place my hand into his suspiciously. He then reached down to plant a kiss on it. "Because he finally made a choice."

Snatching my hand from his hold, I sat it down in my lap. For the first time, I felt an emotion other than fear-it was anger.

"You're telling me, that the only reason that I'm here is so that you can force me to be with your son, my stepbrother? You're sick. You and my mother both deserve to go to hell," I seethed out.

He laughed. He actually let out a laugh. Then, he began to laugh even louder as if I had just spoke the most funniest words to ever be spoken. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. You want to leave? Then, leave."

I got up from his chair, staring him in the eye as I did. "He's not gonna own me like I'm some toy. You're not gonna treat me like I'm his pet. I have no where else to go, and you know that. You are going to treat me like a daughter; like a person, like a human being. If not, you might as well just kill me too."

His face went from a smile, to a cold look. I finally got to see what was really hiding behind that smile of his. "Don't make me tempted."