50
Bellami
My ears twitch at the subtle commotion in the hallway.
The front door opened and closed, but it’s ten p.m. and my wife is sleeping next to me, so who the fuck just entered my penthouse? My guess is either Aiden or Visha. If it’s neither, then I pity the poor fucker who managed to break into my property.
I pull my gun out of the nightstand, ready to shoot whichever motherfucker decided to bother my well-deserved rest. But then, as I point the weapon at the bedroom door and see my little brother bawling his eyes out, I lower it and sigh.
“Bellami…” he mutters between sobs.
What the fuck happened? Last time I saw him, he was kicking his feet because his relationship was thriving. How on earth did he end up in this state?
I lift the covers off, careful not to wake up my beautiful wife. She’s terrifying when she doesn’t get enough sleep.
“Go to my study.”
“But-”
“Go and stop crying.” Visha doesn’t stop wailing, and I’m almost tempted to throw my slippers at him instead of putting them on. “Be quiet. Francesca is sleeping.”
He nods but the tears keep streaming.
Something twists in my chest, and I groan while I get out of the room, leading my brother into my study. The second the door shuts behind us, his arms wrap around my neck, and he starts crying louder.
I stagger back from the sheer surprise of his action. Visha doesn’t carry me in his heart. I’d even say he dislikes me, if not hates me half of the time. But him coming to me means something serious happened.
Visha initiating a hug is anything but normal. He’s punishing himself, not asking for comfort.
I lock my arms around his back, squeezing him and hoping it’ll still soothe him even just a little bit. “What happened? Why are you crying?”
“I fucked up,” he says, sobbing loudly. “I fucked up and now he hates me.”
He must be talking about Aoi. I don’t know anyone else who can make someone as stubborn and strong as Visha bawl his eyes out.
“What do you mean by that?” I clutch his shoulders and push him off me. His puffy eyes meet mine and I sigh. “Tell me everything and I’ll solve the problem.”
He shakes his head. “You can’t solve this. He broke up with me.”
Fucking hell. “Why?”
“He found out. He knows the truth and now he finds me disgusting. Bell, he said he hated me!” His breathing is chopped, and he wails harder, shattering in front of me. “What do I do? You should’ve seen the look on his face when he told me he knew. The rage and disgust in his eyes. Bellami…what do I do?”
I pull him back into my arms and let him wet my shoulder as he sobs, his tall frame shaking against me. This is a real problem. But fuck, I can’t do shit to help him. If he’d been harmed by anyone else, I would’ve simply killed them, but this is Aoi we’re talking about. If I touch a single hair on his head, Visha will never forgive me.
Hell, he might snap my neck himself.
Visha detaches from my embrace and walks toward the couch, plopping down on it and sagging like a bag of potatoes. “My life is meaningless now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He doesn’t even bother glaring at me and merely covers his face with both hands, tears streaming down his cheeks. “My soulmate hates me. How can you say it’s ridiculous?Ma vie n’a pas de sens sans lui.6”
Visha has never been ashamed of his emotions. Love, sorrow, anger, joy–he feels them all deeply and never hesitates to show them. Many men believe that crying or showing vulnerability is a weakness, but not my brother. He is strong, grounded, and comfortable in his feelings—and I know it was Aoi who taught him that. I might not like the man, but I respect the hard work he’s put into raising Visha while I couldn’t.
“So, he found out you’re the kid he took in eleven years ago? Honestly, what I don’t get is how he didn’t realize sooner.”
His head snaps up, fury dancing in his eyes. “Don’t lie. I know you kept tabs on him all these years. You knew about his memory loss before I did. You should have told me the second you found out, instead you hid it from me.”
