9. CARLOS
CARLOS
T he first rainfall in weeks starts, a slow relentless patter against the windows of this small apartment.
An apartment that had been sitting empty in my building.
A perfect makeshift prison for my brother.
The city lights glow like dying embers in the distance beyond the glass, casting long, moody shadows across the room.
I look at Enrico, sitting in the armchair near the unused fireplace.
I focus on the split lip from the scuffle earlier when the boys brought him here.
Silence hangs between us like a loaded gun between two brothers who are more strangers than they ever were.
Lucas and Mark stand by the door, alert and ready for whatever needs to be done. The circle of people I trust gets smaller every day. Constant betrayals have plagued me since I started this business. The only positive is that it narrows down the loyal, and that's a small number.
“This is a mistake,” Enrico says, finally breaking the peace in a croaky, tired voice. “You don't understand what's going on.”
I walk toward him, deliberate with every footfall that echoes the apartment, and hover over him.
“I understand that you stole from me, then you turned my men against me. Why, Enrico? Was it greed? Boredom? Power? Or are you just that much of a coward you prefer to stab me in the back rather than face me?”
He scoffs at me. I’ve never seen Enrico composed before. He’s normally a fidget ball of emotions. Hyper. Not caring about anything.
“You always saw yourself as a king, thinking you’re better than everyone else, better than me, better than our father,” he snarls.
“Always giving orders, always the favorite. Father gave you everything and you didn’t want it.
Thought you were above him while I was left behind.
You think I want your money? I want you to bleed.
I want you to feel worthless like I have for the whole of my life, living in your ungrateful shadow. ”
I crouch down in front of him, fists clenched, resisting the urge to beat him until he stops breathing.
“You had everything, Enrico. I protected you. You didn’t have the weight of the family on your shoulders, you were free to live.
But that wasn’t enough, was it? Wanting to be the center of attention, you nearly started a war that would’ve destroyed Father’s empire.
But who got you out? Who protected you? You know Father was gonna hand you over. ”
“You’re lying.”
“You say all these things about our father, like he’s a loving man. He doesn’t care about us, Enrico. He wouldn’t blink an eye about killing us if it was to protect his legacy. Maybe I shielded you too much from the truth. Allowed you too much freedom.”
“You’ve never let me live, Carlos! You’re just trying to turn me into something I'm not. Ordering me around, sending me on those stupid fucking shipments.”
“Let you live? What the fuck is it you wanted? A credit card with no limit and for you to do what you want. Have you any idea of the mess you’ve made? Two guards are dead because of you. And do you think the Kozlovs would be forgiving, knowing you’ve been romancing the Santinis?”
Enrico stills, and stares at me wide eyed.
“How do you know about that?”
I laugh.
“Our father called me.”
Enrico leans forward, elbows resting on his knees while he buries his face in his hands. After all these years he still doesn’t understand this world, understand our fucked up father.
“I want something of my own.”
“No, brother. You want to do the bare minimum and steal off others while feeling sorry for yourself. I built an empire with blood and scars you don’t have the imagination to understand.
And now you want to take a part of it because of an immature bruised ego.
You think you were owed to be heir to the family?
You’re a traitor, Enrico. Nothing more.”
Enrico lifts his head up, stares at me with an ice cold look behind those eyes. He’s impulsive, and that's what makes him dangerous. He has no fucking idea what he’s doing.
“So what are you gonna do, kill me?” he says mockingly. Proof that he doesn’t know me either.
I tilt my head to the side. Assessing him. He really thinks he’s safe.
“You don’t believe that is possible?”
“You won’t kill me. You love me. Why else would you have brought me to this shitty country to protect me?”
Another long silence stretches and I stand, walking slowly to the window, watching the rain become heavier, mimicking the tone of the room.
“Your perception of the world around you is different from reality, Enrico. I didn’t save you to protect you, I saved you to help me get out of that hell.
You have no idea of the world you are in because your spoiled ass has been shielded.
You think it's a game to steal, to make shady deals with rival gangs. Truth is, you’re lucky. ”
I slowly turn and look Enrico in the eyes. No more hiding the truth of how bad his situation is.
“So, let me be clear, brother. I’d have no problem taking a blade and slicing your throat right now. To be honest, it would make my life so much easier without you being around. But unlike you, I have a brain. So you’re right, I won’t kill you.”
Enrico giggles. He giggles like a child, thinking he has got away with his behavior, like there are no consequences. It's time to piss on those expectations.
“I’m happy to amuse you. I won’t kill you because I’m taking you back home where you belong.”
The giggles stop and Enrico stands. Lucas strides over, ready to come in between us if it kicks off.
“What! Why?”
It's my turn to laugh.
“Because our father has requested your return to the fold. You will have his attention fully, just like you’ve always wanted. But I assume it won’t be the attention you hoped for.”
“You motherfucker!” he shouts, trying to push Lucas to get to me. I ignore his little outburst and walk over to the door. I want to go home and relax.
“Sleep well, Enrico.”
I smile to myself as I make my way up to the top floor to my little piece of heaven, knowing I will sleep better in the knowledge Enrico won’t.