Chapter 32
The seconds tick by, each one feeling like an eternity as I stand here helplessly, my wife and unborn child’s lives hanging in the balance. Where are you? My heart races with panic and frustration. “Davis, we need to go to Stella’s house now!” But our desperate rush is futile - the place is deserted. Still, I search every corner for any sign, any clue that could lead me to them. The tension builds inside me, a fierce anger boiling over at my own powerlessness.
The house is eerily quiet today, the hive being taken care of by someone else. I push past the neatly arranged molds on the drying rack, frantically searching through drawers and cabinets for anything that could point me in the right direction. There has to be something here.
My hands trembling, I open the first drawer of the dresser in Stella’s bedroom and find her old legal pad from what seems like ages ago. With shaking hands, I read her notes carefully, hoping they will reveal some hidden clue. “Lionel wanted to buy an old winery” - my mind races, connecting the dots. Without hesitation, I grab my phone and begin searching for wineries for sale in the area.
As fate would have it, there are two potential locations—one in Carrollton and one across the river in Madison, Indiana. My gut instinct tells me where she might be.
I’m ready to charge ahead alone but Davis stops me. “I have a gun,” he says, his voice determined. “And there are rifles and other weapons in the trunk. But going in without a proper plan could put Mrs. Kral in even more danger.”
It’s a risk we have to take. “Surprise will work in our favor,” I say firmly, ready to jump into action.
We park the SUV on a side road about a mile from the winery, careful not to draw attention as we make our way closer on foot, guided by a GPS. Davis packs his weapons into a duffel bag, ready for whatever comes our way.
“Wait here,” he says, holding out his arm to stop me. We crouch on a small hill, using binoculars to scan the area. A man with a shaved head and gang-like tattoos is smoking a cigarette outside the old winery. My heart sinks - this isn’t my brother or anyone I know, but there’s something familiar about him. A surge of fear and determination fills me as I realize we’re getting closer to finding Stella.
A bald, heavily tattooed man puffs on his cigarette outside the rundown house. The ink on his skin is not the artistic kind, but more like symbols of a dangerous gang. Through the binoculars provided by Davis, I study his features intensely. He may not be my biological brother, but there’s a familiarity in his face that sends shivers down my spine. Suddenly, it all clicks into place. This man was there the day of the assault. He’s one of them.
We can’t see inside the house to know how many more are waiting for me to arrive. As time ticks by and no one else emerges, I know it’s time to make my move. My heart races as I leave the truck and enter the property alone.
I stick to my plan, pulling up in front of the dilapidated house and turning off the engine. The door swings open and I come face to face with my own reflection.
“It took you long enough to find me, little brother,” he taunts as he approaches me. I’m stunned for a long moment, unable to believe what I’m seeing. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for years…”
Suddenly, everything makes sense. This is why Stella was confused, why she fell for his deception so easily. Identical twins, with our matching features and tattoos.
My blood boils at the realization.
“Where’s Stella?” I demand, cutting off his words.
“She’s fine, don’t worry.” He smirks arrogantly. “After all, she’s my wife.”
“No,” I correct him harshly. “She’s mine.”
He laughs again, clearly enjoying this power play. “But I was the one who married her, wasn’t I?”
“After stealing my identity,” I accuse him boldly. “And now I’ll take back everything you stole from me, including her.”
His face contorts with anger and hurt. He has feelings for Stella, the woman he pretended to be me with.
“You took my life, so I’ll take everything from you,” I vow through gritted teeth.
“That’s going to be easy, you pathetic stuttering fool.” He sneers at me. “But first, we’re going to have a little chat like brothers. I’ve been waiting thirty years for this.”
“I have no idea what you mean.” I stutter, my words catching in my throat as I look at the man claiming to be my brother. His eyes are filled with a cold, simmering rage that chills me to the bone.
Until a few weeks ago, I had no idea of his existence. But now, standing before me in this desolate forest, it feels like black clouds have settled over us, casting an eerie and heavy atmosphere.
“The orphanage,” he begins. “We were there together. One day, a wealthy family arrived looking for a child and the workers took me. When the Krals saw me, they fell in love and decided to adopt me.”
My mind races as his words match up with what my mother told me about my adoption. But then he drops another bombshell.
“What happened? Why did they end up taking me?” I ask, confusion and fear gripping me.
His eyes narrow into slits as he spits out his next words, each one dripping with venom.
“The people at the orphanage only care about money. The Krals were willing to make a fat donation, so they did what they had to do to ensure they got a desirable child. And you, my dear brother, were not deemed desirable enough.”
My heart sinks as I realize the extent of the greed and deception that led to our separation.
“And why not introduce us both?” I push, desperation creeping into my voice.
He sneers at me. “Like I said, they wanted to secure an adoption. A shy, sickly, and stuttering boy was going to ruin everything.”
My blood runs cold as I try to comprehend the level of betrayal and manipulation that has occurred.
“What happened?” I choke out, my hands trembling.
A dark laugh echoes through the trees around us. “Then chicken pox happened. As luck would have it, I got infected while you were in a different room with a cold. When the Krals came back for me, they saw you as the perfect replacement.”
My mind reels as I process this new information, trying to make sense of everything that has been kept from me.
“I didn’t know, I had no idea…” I start to explain, but he cuts me off with a bitter laugh.
“You forgot about me so quickly? Did you forget my existence and even my name, Boo?” He taunts me, using the childhood nickname that only adds to the weight of guilt and shame I feel.
I close my eyes tightly, trying to block out the flood of memories rushing through my mind. A younger version of myself hiding under a bed, seeking comfort from a boy just like me who was also struggling with life in the orphanage. The same boy who now stands before me, filled with hatred and anger towards his long-lost brother.
“Boo…” I whisper, because I remember it all too well. It has always been there, tucked away in a dark corner of my mind.
“Broderick?” I say his name tentatively, unsure if he will even acknowledge it.
“Hello, dear little brother,” he replies bitterly.
“I swear to you…” I begin to explain, wondering if there is any point in doing so.
But he cuts me off again. “Excuses, excuses. They are useless after thirty years. While you lived my life, I prepared my plan. You took what belonged to me, now is the time to give it all back.”
My heart pounds in my chest and cold sweat breaks out on my back. I need to find the right words to calm him down and get out of here alive - all of us. He may be tormented and full of rage, but he’s still my brother.
The brother that I had forgotten about.
“You can keep all the money,” I offer, my voice shaking. “Let’s get out of here and you can have it all. It doesn’t matter to me, it’s yours.”
But he just laughs at my words, a cruel sound that echoes through the forest.
“I’m not an idiot,” he yells, his eyes wild with madness. “I won’t fall for your stupid trap.”
“It’s not a trap,” I protest, my mind racing for a way to appease him. “Let Stella go and it’s yours.”
Another bitter laugh escapes his lips. “You’re not going to take anything else from me. Stella stays with me, she’s mine.”
Panic grips me as I realize the full extent of his obsession and delusion. He truly believes that Stella is his, ignoring the fact that she has chosen me—her husband—over the man who tricked her.
“I just want to know that she’s okay.” My voice is pleading now, strong on the outside but shaking with fear within. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“You’re wrong,” he spits back. “She was supposed to be mine. The woman I chose for myself, and you took her away from me. Do you think I don’t know that she slept with you?”
My heart drops at his accusation, knowing that he must have some kind of informant within my inner circle to know such intimate details.
“Let me see her,” I beg him once more.
The look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know—there is no reasoning with him. And as I stand there, helpless and desperate for any form of escape or resolution, I am struck by the realization that this man before me is not just my long-lost brother—he is a dangerous and unstable stranger who will stop at nothing to exact revenge on the family he feels has wronged him.
As Broderick nods, the same tattooed man we saw outside emerges, dragging Stella by her arm. My heart races as she screams my name, pleading for help, but I can only focus on her body, searching for any signs of harm. My mind races to find a solution, but I know we have to tread carefully with Broderick’s volatile temper and Davis lurking in the shadows.
Before I can formulate a plan, the tattooed man speaks. “Maybe we should start with her,” he says, raising a gun to Stella’s head. I see a flash of determination in her eyes, determined to fight until the bitter end. But before she can make a move, Broderick claims her as his own, and dismisses any threat from the gun-wielding man. “I’ll take care of her, she’s mine.”
My anger boils at his possessiveness over my wife.
But then Hadley’s voice breaks through the chaos. “And what am I?” asks a female voice, one I know well. This reveals another player in this twisted game. She approaches Broderick with confidence, marking her territory and pulling him into a kiss that he barely responds to. Shit.
In an instant, everything is unraveling. This has been in motion for thirty years, carefully planned and orchestrated. The grudges run deep.
“This poor girl was nothing but a chess piece, a pawn. But I’m the queen.” Hadley states, but she’s wrong when she declares herself the main piece in this game. That title belongs solely to my wife, my love, to Stella.
Suddenly, a gunshot echoes through the room and chaos erupts. The tattooed man falls lifeless to the ground and Stella crumples beside him. In a split second, Broderick pulls her close to him like a shield.
Coward.
We have lost our element of surprise and now Broderick knows we are not alone. But he also reveals his own hand in this deadly game.
“Tell your partner to come out,” he bellows, holding the gun against Stella’s head. Her eyes meet mine with fear and desperation. My heart breaks for her- pregnant and in this dangerous situation.
But I am proud of her for staying strong. And I know I will have a chance to tell her that once we get out of here.
“Put down your gun,” Broderick demands, but I refuse to give up my only advantage. Giving in now would be signing my own death warrant.
“You claim to love her, but you use her as a shield. What kind of love is that, brother?” I challenge him, trying to appeal to his sense of family and loyalty.
He laughs, lowering the gun from Stella’s face. “I’m not testing my love. I’m playing with yours.”
Damn him for knowing my weakness.
“And you, Hadley?” Stella speaks up, drawing our attention to my assistant- the one who has been aiding Broderick all along. “You say you love her, but you don’t hesitate to use her to protect yourself. What kind of love is that, brother?”
He laughs, as he lowers the barrel of the gun down the side of Stella’s face. “I’m playing with yours, not testing mine.”
Damn, he knows she’s my weakness.
“And you, Hadley?” Stella spits out, her words like bullets aimed at my assistant. I can practically hear the venom dripping from her tongue. “You think I’m just a pawn? Well look at us now, all eyes on me. They both love me, while you were just another piece in Broderick’s twisted game.”
My assistant’s eyes blaze with rage, clearly hitting a nerve. Stella knows exactly how to push Hadley’s buttons.
“Why didn’t Broderick want to marry you?” she continues to taunt. “After all, it wasn’t his name that would appear in this mess of a marriage. It was your reputation on the line.”
Hadley’s face turns an angry shade of red, her grip on the knife tightening as she rages against Broderick.
“You know he came back for me as soon as I returned to Carrollton? Me!” Stella reveals with a smirk, enjoying every moment of causing chaos between them. She knows Hadley is impulsive and easily manipulated.
“Foolish bitch,” Hadley screams, lunging towards Stella with the knife raised high.
Fuck.
I rush forward to stop her, but in a blink of an eye, Broderick put himself as a human shield. The sharp edge of the blade finds its way into his abdomen.
They both collapse to the ground in a pool of blood.
“Shit!” Hadley shouts at Stella, struggling as Davis appears seemingly out of nowhere and apprehends her.
I embrace Stella tightly, relieved that she is unharmed and safe in my arms once again. She’s breathing heavily but there isn’t a scratch on her.
“Our fate was sealed since the very beginning,” Broderick’s weak voice reaches us from the ground. “It was your destiny to be the winner.”
I kneel next to him, refusing to let this be the end.
“Help is coming,” Davis announces, and I hear the distant wail of sirens.
“Do you hear that?” I say to Broderick, trying to keep him conscious. “Hold on, brother, help is almost here.”
He closes his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again and turning to Stella, who is sobbing beside me.
“I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he murmurs. “In my own messed up way, it was always you, Stella. Always.”
“Please don’t talk,” she pleads through her tears. “Save your strength.”
“It’s too late,” Broderick says as his gaze becomes unfocused and his eyes, so similar to mine, grow cloudy. “Forgive me, Lion. Forgive me and live your life for both of us.”
A lump forms in my throat as I try to find the right words, but they elude me.
“What happened at the house… the last time we were there… “ Stella trails off.
“Nothing happened,” Broderick coughs weakly. “I may be a bastard, but I’m not a rapist. I helped you when you were sick and cleaned you up before letting you rest.”
Stella breathes a sigh of relief. Meanwhile, I frantically try to stop the bleeding from Broderick’s abdomen with my shirt. Why is help taking so long?
Broderick closes his eyes once more. “Damn it!” I yell at him. “Look at me, Brother, look at me! You fought so hard for the money, you can’t give up now when it’s within reach. Hold on and use it however you want.”
“I’m sorry,” he groans again.
“Forget it,” I say, tears streaming down my face now. “There’s no bad blood between us. Just rest easy, we’re okay.”
A smile tugs at the corners of Broderick’s mouth as he lets out one final sigh, his hands falling limply to his sides. I don’t need to be a doctor to know.
My brother is gone.
The screeching of tires on the gravel road shatters the eerie silence, drowning out the chaotic cacophony of hurried footsteps and screams. The weight of Stella’s body against mine is the only thing keeping me grounded as my mind reels with shock and grief.
Two brothers, identical in appearance but worlds apart in personality, both marked by a tragic destiny. Was it fate or just sheer bad luck? I can’t even begin to imagine what Broderick must have felt in his final moments.
But I promise you this, Brother. I will carry on living my life for the both of us . His words echo in my mind like a haunting refrain, carried by the wind. And I know that’s exactly what he would have wanted.
“Rest in peace, Broderick,” I whisper, closing his lifeless eyes with trembling hands. “For you and for me, I will live my life for both of us.”