Gangsta Mate (A werewolf/gangster romance)

Marcus

MARCUS SLADE

"How? HOW?!" I threw a punch at Frank. "How did he get the deal?! You were supposed to stop him!" I punched him again. But he looked as indifferent as ever, devoid of emotion like always. Quite useful most of the times but right now I wanted him the shit scared of me. Which wasn't exactly happening. It might be because he has seen me more with a paintbrush or a pencil rather than with a gun. But things were about to change here.

"Its not easy as you believe. They both had men at guard and there were several disturbances." He answered in a monotone.

"Disturbances?" Really? I didn't have time to waste on disturbances.

"I believe Jude already has a mate and Michael found his." 

I frowned. "Michael found his mate?"

"She's a drug dealer named Cadan Reid." Frank said.

"How do you know she was his mate?" I asked. As his blood sibling, only I could know Michael's mate if I ever - unfortunately for her - came across her.

"Michael approached her and she rejected him. It looked so."

"Looked so?"

"I had to remian at a distance to avoid my scent from reaching him or Nicholas Chase." Frank said.

"The Breaker was there too?" It must have been a spectacle.

"He was the one who stopped Michael when he became ennraged."

"Insteresting," A smile of its own accord spread on my face. "So much so, I believe this Cadan Reid owes me a visit." And I just couldn't wait for it.

"As you say." Frank said as he started moving towards the door. He got my message.

Michael chose the worst of times to get acquainted with his mate. With all his foolishness, I am sometimes surprsied to see that he is still doing well with his share of empire and all. But that was something both Warren and Michael Slade shared, brains was a organ well unused. Well, I couldn't argue since muscle power is equally of use and considering it bought them so far, I can give it to them. Yet, they still have to realise no power is strong enough against the games of mind. And this is exactly what Michael can look forward to. Mind games. Game #1: Catch-a-mate.

Michael and I had been close even if we were world's apart. He couldn't be more alike our father and I was rarely seen without my mother - a sweet, gentle lady who surprsingly bought the emotionless Warren Slade to his kness. But that was until she died. Her death changed all of us, made us people we never thought we could be. Michael never realised but behind the cold exterior of our father was a man broken and lost, which was why so early on he divided the empire between us - he just couldn't take it anymore. Michael also failed to know that it was me who Father blamed. 

"What's that?" I heard Father's voice from behind me.

"Mother," I whispered, looking at the familiar expression of love I had seen countless times on her face, now an imprint on the canvas, from the memory of her face to brushstrokes of oil-paints.

"Throw it away!" He yelled. I was a bit shocked to hear so much agony in his voice. Scared to turn and look at him so vulnerable, I stayed staring and unmoved.

Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulders and roughly turned me to look at him. "You weakened her, made her foolish. I told her not to step outside but she did! And why?! Because of your bloody easel! YOU KILLED HER!" He pushed me and I fell back from my stool, the paints, the brushes, the canvas and that easel falling with me.

The wounds healed, but that canvas never stitched itself back, those mental scars never erased. And for years, I believed him. I believed I killed her. Up until the day, Warren Slade thrusted my first gun in my hand, until he spoke how disappointed he was of me. But that day I saw something in those vacant eyes of his - my mother. I had her eyes, I had her hair, I had her mouth, I had her dreams. He caged those dreams of hers and he hated me for freeing her. I freed her. That was all I could think until he caged the old Marc  and showed the world Marcus Slade, his son, heir of half his empire. Now I know, I can never go back. I was no longer the soft, younger brother who idealized Michael, listened to his mother and preferred brushes over guns, poetry over plans of war. Quite a sheltered life I lived, unlike my siblings. But past was a luxury I can no longer afford to live. They were a just a memory of a life long dead and gone. All because of Warren Slade's lifestyle, and now, my lifestyle.

My brother is known for his honor, determination and strength. But the world is slowly becoming aware of my ambition, ruthlessness and amorality. That got even the BloodClaw pack interested. I'm not proud of what I'm doing, I know it is unforgiveable. But that's the price of my success, this and my guilt. I do not want to kill  Michael, I do not want the empire, I do not want to hurt his mate. But that was what I was made to be - Ruthless. Ambitious. Amoral. And I'm gonna show the world exactly what I am.