“You’re trying to make my son a fucking pansy!” he roars, and slaps her across the face, causing her head to snap to the side and forcing her to cry out.
When he grabs her by her hair and throws her to the floor with a blood-curdling thud, my heart plummets. I remain frozen to the spot, knowing only too well that anything I do to aide her will not go down well. Last time, I had my hand in a cast for months but still had to participate in boxing class despite it setting my recovery back.
He swipes his arm across the counter and pushes the tray of cookies onto the floor. The tray clatters and the cookies crumble, and a little part of me wishes I’d tasted one before he destroyed them.
Then, with a sadistic smile on his face, he steps on them, one by one, while I watch motionless and detached. The cookies dissolve beneath his ruthless step as he takes his time destroying each one so callously.
All Nonna’s and my hard work is being ground into the tiled floor, becoming dust as he delights in the action of grinding his shoe from side to side.
“Now I’m going to fuck you in this shit,”—he kicks out, sending a flurry of the crumbs into the air toward her face—“while our son feeds you like the dog you are,” he declares, and I hate the way my mother sobs on his words.
I hate the way her tears streak her pretty face when he makes the grunting noises I loathe, and the way my hand shakes as I bring the remnants of the cookie to her lips and push them inside her mouth.
Worst of all, I hate that Czar never got to witness the cookies or smell them. But I’ll tell him about them, and even if he doesn’t believe me, our mother knows the truth.
I made those cookies because today is my birthday, and we’ve never celebrated it. Not once.
Czar tsks and pulls my attention from our mother, then strides toward me with a scowl on his face and an air of confidence I lack. He draws the attention of the room toward him, allowing me the opportunity to swipe away the tear threatening to fall from the corner of my eye.
Before I have a chance to argue with him, he snatches the gun from my hand, aims it at our mother, and pulls the trigger. The ringing in my ears doesn’t dilute the enormity of this action nor the gravity of my situation. My younger brother stepped up and took control, honoring the name of the fierce lion bestowed upon him while relinquishing me from my demons.
As if in slow motion, our mother falls to the floor in a worthless heap.
Blood hits my pants, even my face is coated in her innocence, but I don’t so much as flinch, too stunned to move.
Our future is written.
Czar’s destiny confirmed.
As I stand here today, I know what my brother did, I can never repay. He took my demons and made them his own. He showed valor and compassion, an honor I will never recreate despite spending the rest of my life attempting to achieve.
Czar is worthy, but I still have mine to prove.
The room erupts into cheers, but I feel the eyes of my father on me with every beat of my heavy heart.
Czar turns his head to the side. He knows it too. Guilt swims in his eyes as he swallows heavily. He might have saved me from the torment that lives inside of me, but he also put me in the firing line. Our father needs an heir to be proudof, not a weak boy softened by emotions and, worse, women.
Czar’s act has rewritten our destiny, but that’s not something I’m prepared for, and truth be told, he’s not ready for it yet either.
As I watch our mother’s blood rush toward my feet like a river, emptiness fills my bloodstream. His actions has significantly changed our lives, and now I must forge a new path.
I exhale loudly, puffing my chest out, and stand taller than ever before. In this moment, I may choose the darkness, but the light will always be a part of me. It will remain dormant until I need it the most.One day, I will become the man I’ve always wanted to be, but for now, in order to survive, I will become the one expected of me.
I rush Czar, knocking him off his feet and onto the floor. Our father steps forward, but I don’t give him a chance to reprimand me. I grab the gun, spin on my perfectly polished heels, and race up the stairs.
My chest heaves, and I pant wildly as I come to a standstill in the kitchen. Nonna stands motionless, her back toward me, her head lowered.
Does she know I’m about to betray her?
I’m about to become heir to the Carrera name.
She lifts her head higher than normal. “I promise, Nonna.” I lift the gun and aim. This small act of mercy, I can grant her while keeping my father appeased. One day, his time will come, and I will be the man my nonna would be proud of.
But today, I will follow the path so brutally carved for me.
Blood splatters across the counter, the spray marring thewalls, and her small body falls forward as heavy footsteps fill the room.
“I am the devil.” I turn and face my father, glaring at him head-on. “I am the Carrera family’s heir.” My shoulders broaden with feigned pride.
