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Then my younger brother quickly glanced over my shoulder as the other vehicles parked in front of his residence and paled instantly. Stavros had insisted on coming. I’d asked Jonas to be here given he deserved to know the truth. It had taken everything to convince Stavros that I had to handle this.
This was without a doubt the worst outcome possible.
I wasn’t the kind of man who had any problem speaking my mind but there were no words to express the level of disappointment and fury. I’d needed two shots of tequila before I’d driven to his house. As I slipped the most pertinent and damning parts of the collected dossier on his activities over the course of the last ten months into my hand, I sensed he was worried that I was reaching for a weapon.
He took it from my hand, and I took a step back, purposely turning my head away from the repulsion churning in my stomach.
Nico didn’t make a sound except for leaning against the open door. Then he calmly folded the information, handing it back to me.
The quiet between us had never happened before. I was used to his chattering from an early age, the kid following me around, his huge eyes highlighting his eagerness. As he’d grown into a teenager, the rebellious side of him had taken over. We’d almost lost him to six months of drugs. He’d been clean ever since. He’d always had a free spirit, everything having the possibility of exciting him.
He’d never wanted for anything with a single exception.
To live his life the way he’d wanted.
Instead, he’d been suffocated by rules of a regime that he’d wanted no part of, the very one that had forced him to betray his own family.
By all rights I should put a bullet in his head. If news got out that he’d been responsible, the fallout could be ruinous. My father had given me the choice after breaking down. I’d never seen my father cry before. Not once.
But he did on the day he learned his own son had betrayed him.
I’d called Jonas from the plane, asking if he’d told anyone where Elena had taken Whitney on the day they’d gone shopping. He’d told one person.
Just as Stavros had confided in his brother from the plane before we headed to The Wharf. If that had been the evidence alone, I never would have believed it, but what Theodore had put together had sealed my brother’s fate.
“Why?” I gritted my teeth.
“Zakaryan approached me almost a year ago with a proposal. I turned him down. But he kept asking.” Nico’s voice sounded hollow, devoid of any inflection. There was also no shame.
I shook my head, tempering my words. “A deal you couldn’t refuse against your family?”
“It was my way out. You wouldn’t have given it to me.”
Not at the time. It had all been about respect as well as responsibility. “Why bother saving my life? I was supposed to die in the raid. Wasn’t I?”
He remained quiet.
“Answer me!”
“Yes, okay? But I couldn’t let that happen. You’re my brother.” This time, his voice cracked.
He’d saved my life. Did that count for something? I was no longer certain. I pulled out an envelope I’d prepared prior to shutting down his access to everything, including his own bank accounts.
“Is this where you kill me?” he asked and at least he had the decency to allow me to hear fear in his voice.
“Take this, Nico.” This was more difficult than I’d imagined, more so than driving a knife into Thanos’ heart.
“What is it?”
“It’s all you’re getting from this family for the rest of your life. As of now, you’re dead to your mother, your father, your sisters, and your brother. And you’re certainly dead to me. You are to leave this city and never return. You will not call. You will not attempt contact in any other manner. If you do, Iwillput a bullet in your brain.”
His eyes opened wide before he accepted the envelope.
I started at him for a few seconds, flashes of the past rushing into my mind. Birthdays. Holidays. Family gatherings.
He wouldn’t be at my wedding.
Or at the christening of any children.
