Marcus
Ileave the coach’s office with a smile on my face.
A couple of high-profile agents got in touch with him after my phenomenal performance yesterday. The coach said nothing is set in stone and that they’ll continue to watch me for the rest of the season, but if I play my cards right, I might be one of the most anticipated NHL draft picks of the year.
I need to call my mom and tell her the news. She’ll be thrilled.
She made it to the game yesterday as it was at home, and she always tries to attend those, but then she was called for an emergency during the third period. We were supposed to have dinner together, but she texted and said she’d be late.
Didn’t matter. I still fixed some pasta, and we had it at midnight when she returned.
It always makes her happy when I cook and we have meals together. Besides, I wasn’t interested in the usual meetup with the team at the club, and Mom is really the only one I like to celebrate my wins with.
Practice finished a while ago and I should head to class. But first, I have to tell Mom the good news.
As I’m walking down the hall, I pull out my phone to call her.
“Morning, brother dearest.”
I come to a halt, slowly lifting my head to find none other than my half-sister standing by the wall.
Serena Osborn.
She doesn’t blend in—she edits the air so that it fits her.
She’s dressed in a tailored pantsuit that screams power and stature, her brown hair falling in waves to her squared shoulders. The red on her lips matches her shoes and nails, deliberate splashes of color in a grayscale world.
And she’s smiling the same way Dad smiles—polite, attractive, and dangerous enough to feel like she’s aiming a loaded gun at you.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, searching our surroundings. “This place isn’t open to outsiders.”
“You believe I can be denied entry anywhere?” She laughs, the sound rich and mocking. “You still have a long way to go in order to understand how we operate, Marcus.”
Right.
This isn’t the first time I’ve met Serena. She dropped by the shop briefly around the same time Dad started to bug me.
Her approach was different from that of Dad’s people, since Serena wants only one thing from me—to stay away.
“I didn’t make it this far for you to appear out of nowhere and reap the rewards of my hard work,” she said, smiling in that fake-ass way people from that town do. “You understand, right, Marcus? If you do as you’re told, I’ll help you and June out.”
Her help included putting a guard on Mom. His mission is to watch from afar, so she doesn’t get ambushed and isn’t used against me.
Serena also offered money that I refused, but I did tell her to invest in our hockey team. That’s how I got my replacement sticks after they were broken by a certain pain in the ass.
I take a deep breath to dispel him from my head. Not now.
I’m not thinking about Preston right now.
“To what do I owe this visit first thing in the morning?” I ask her.
“I was around and thought I’d check on you in case you need anything. You know, like when you asked me for access to the Armstrongs’ forest? What came out of that anyway?”
“You said no questions asked, Serena.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” She lifts both hands in mock surrender, her black ring shining on her right index finger.
I’ve seen something similar on Preston’s index finger, but his had a sun and half-moon engraved within while Serena’s has a lion’s head surrounded with gears.
They represent each family’s crest, I believe. Something the heirs would wear.
My thirty-year-old sister is trying everything in her power to keep the ring from somehow finding its way to me.
And honestly, I don’t care about rings or status. I definitely don’t give a flying fuck about the Osborn legacy that’s rejected me since the day I was born.
But Serena doesn’t need to know that. She believes she’s keeping me in check, so I won’t vie for her position as the de facto heir to the Osborn empire. It’s why she sends frequent texts and shows up out of the blue like today.
And that guard she so graciously provided? He’s basically a spy hidden in plain sight who’ll report back to her if I meet up with Dad’s people behind her back.
I don’t blame her for attempting to protect her hard work, and I would’ve done the same if I were her.
But if she believes she can use me without my using her in return, she has another thing coming.
After all, she’s my insider into their depraved world and a way for me to get access and information, as unreliable as that might be.
I’m not really opposed to her ambition, but our goals are worlds apart. She wants to rule over Dad’s empire; I want to ruin it.
But again, she doesn’t need to know that.
“I just wanted to start a conversation.” She drops her arms to her sides. “You know, I miss having younger brothers.”
“Do you?” I raise a brow. “The only reason you’re at the top is because those younger brothers died.”
“I still could’ve fought my way to the top even if they were alive.”
“Highly doubtful with a family like yours.”
She laughs again, but this time, it’s strained. “It would’ve taken more effort, yes, but I would’ve gotten here no matter what. Besides, poor Leo and Lance were sick most of their lives, so maybe it’s better they’re no longer suffering.”
“You’re no longer living in their shadows either.”
Her lips purse before she smiles. “Neither are you. How does it feel to finally be recognized?”
“It feels like nothing. That man stopped being my dad the moment I realized he doesn’t give a fuck about me.”
She tsks, shaking her head. “That’s not how you should consider things, Marcus.
Dad doesn’t care about anyone or anything except for his legacy.
You believe he gives a fuck about me, Leo, or Lance?
No. Join the club. He only recognizes us because we’re useful for his legacy.
So the smart thing to do is to go along with his wishes in order to access power. ”
“Not interested.”
“Well, you should be. I told you, didn’t I?
You need power to keep yourself and your mother safe.
” She juts her chin in the direction of the coach’s office.
“Those NHL deals lining up for you can…” She snaps her fingers “…poof—disappear in the blink of an eye if you end up in a nasty accident that kills your career.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Just painting the picture in your head so you understand that without power, you have nothing.” She pats my shoulder. “Don’t be another powerless Patient X.”
“Patient X?”
“Oh, right. Dad wouldn’t have told you about it, because you were useless to him.” She steps back and whispers, “You see, our family has a curse.”
“A curse?”
“Yeah, a rare genetic bone marrow failure syndrome called aplastic anemia.”
“Am I supposed to know what the hell that means?”
She laughs. “It means the marrow doesn’t produce enough healthy blood cells.
Patients who have it need periodic transfusions or marrow infusions to remain alive.
Leo and Lance had it. I’m three years older than Lance, and unfortunately, I was compatible, so I was used to keep Lance alive with constant transfusions from the time I was a child.
That shit hurt, by the way. I can still feel those long, thick needles probing in my spine when I go to sleep at night. ”
I pause, not knowing what to say, but thankfully, she continues.
“Fortunately for me, Lance developed a mutation that made him refuse my blood when he was around six, which was near the time Leo was born. And Leo and I were only partially compatible, so they wouldn’t risk it.” She tilts her head in my direction. “You were partially compatible, too. Lucky you.”
“I was tested on?”
“Of course you were. When you were an infant, Dad had it done under the pretext of general blood testing. Anyway, Lance and Leo were both going to die if they weren’t given their vampire essence in the coming years, so can you guess what Dad did?”
“Patient X.”
“You’re smart. I like that. And yes, he was our brother.”
“Brother?”
“Half-brother, technically. He was created in a lab.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Have you heard of genetic selection? It’s not legal or perfect, but we’re close with the Callahans’ pharmaceutical empire, which thrives on testing.
And Dad was desperate enough to keep his boys alive, so he allowed them to mess around with his sperm, then they put it in a surrogate mother, and boom!
Patient X was born. The savior sibling none of us know. Not even Dad.”
“Dad didn’t meet his son?”
“No, because he didn’t consider him a son. Just a full-time blood donor, I suppose. Patient X was kept in a house with a lab his whole life, poked and probed, and used as Lance’s and Leo’s lifeline.”
There’s a sharpness in her words. A rage that’s tucked so close to the surface, as if she can see herself in the sibling she never met.
It’s fucked up. All of it.
A father making a child just to save the other children is simply wrong, but I can’t say I’m surprised.
Andrew is just that type of cold.
A memory flashes in my head. I was maybe six as my parents and I were walking through the snow-covered park. Mom had a call and went to the side to take it, letting go of my hand in the process.
I reached out to Dad’s hand, wrapping my smaller one around it, and he calmly but firmly pushed it away.
Then he tsked. “Useless child.”
I always wondered what he meant by saying that. Useless child. Now, I think I know. I was useless because he never managed to use me to pump my blood into his empire.
I focus back on Serena, who has a distant look in her eyes. “If Patient X was used to keep Lance and Leo alive, why did they die?”