Siblings rivalry

Chapter 5

Alexander's point of view

“Well, well, well. The lost son returns,” I heard Damian’s cold voice echo throughout the living room, my muscles twitching beneath my skin.

My mother raised her head, her gaze resting on me, a frown crossing her flawless face.

“You don’t say. He is your brother, Damian, and I suggest you treat him with respect,” my mother said, her voice filled with love.

I stood up, my gaze shifting to Damian. He maintained his cold demeanor as he walked closer to me, the soles of his shoes echoing off the marble floor, his eyes boring into my skin.

He leaned in, a strange grin spreading across his lips. I felt his breath wash over me as an awkward silence filled the air.

“You dare walk back into the Brooks Mansion like you belong here,huh?” he scoffed, shaking his head furiously.

“I belong here, and so do you,” I replied, my voice cracking. I could feel my heart beating faster, my throat suddenly dry. I had to admit, Damian had a way of instilling fear in his enemies with just a stare. Perhaps it was his commanding aura or his cold personality. After many years of not seeing him, I still felt intimidated staring into his hungry eyes.

“You belong here?” Damian asked rhetorically. “You threw away this home, this family, for some woman who treated you like an errand boy. And now, you crawl back?” he scoffed.

“Can you two stop it?” my mother yelled, stepping between us to separate us. “You are both my sons!” She scowled at Damian.

There was a brief silence, Damian’s eyes never leaving mine. His gaze softened, and a smirk appeared on his lips.

“We are both your sons. But only one of us is the true heir to the Mafia throne,” he said coldly, a mirthful chuckle escaping his lips.

He turned around and walked out a hint of arrogance in his steps as he strided out of the room. At the threshold, he paused, turned back, and stared into my eyes.

“Run,” he whispered, shutting the door behind him. His words hung in the air like a death sentence. I released a breath that I hadn't realized I was holding, my heart still pounding.

“Don’t let him get to you….” I didn’t wait for my mother to finish before I walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

Outside, the cool air bathed my skin, the moon brushing the street with its ethereal glow as I traced my steps to the parking lot.

I climbed into my favorite black, sleek Maybach, turning on the radio. I needed to clear my head from Damian’s words. He was the kind of guy who never quits until he gets what he wants, and I was sure he was coming for my head.

I turned on the ignition and zoomed onto the street, heading to the penthouse. It was Saturday night, and if I guessed correctly, the place would be crowded with famous men.

The music reverberated through the air, sending a feeling of ecstasy through anyone nearby.

“That will do for the night,” I mumbled, walking into the hotel. I stepped through the glass door, my gaze falling on the receptionist. She had blonde hair that rested freely on her shoulders, with a pair of glasses perched on her pointed nose.

“Hello, sir, how may we help you?” she asked, flashing a smile.

“The party? Direct me to the penthouse party,” I said, my voice low and intimidating.

Her fingers tapped across the keyboard, her face a mask of confusion.

“Your ID, sir?” she asked politely.

My brow raised slightly, and I replied, “Brooks. Alexander Brooks.” My words sent chills down her spine, her face immediately growing pale.

“Right this way, sir,” she replied, a hint of skepticism in her voice as she pointed to a door.

“Thank you,” I said with pride, walking away. My Mafia clan was the most feared in the city, and belonging to it had its privileges. The name sent shivers down the spine of anyone who heard it.

With my hands tucked into my pockets, I walked into the room, bathed in the dim light of the bulbs. The scent of tequila, whiskey, and strong cologne filled the air. The ladies pole-danced, gyrating to the beat of the music.

They bit their lips as they spotted me, stretching their fingers toward me, beckoning for a one-night stand.

I rolled my eyes and walked to the bar stand.

“Whiskey,” I said to the bartender behind the counter.

He gave me a quick nod. My gaze shifted to the drug lords in the bar, sniffing cocaine off the cleavage and asses of some ladies, naughty smiles escaping their lips. Well, what can I say? This was a typical Mafia party.

I picked up the glass served to me, slowly gulping down the mixture. The hot liquid burned its way down my chest, and I frowned slightly.

Just as I was about to take another drink, my eyes fell on a lady in the middle of the dance floor, the sight alone halting my glass mid-air. I squinted, staring at her, her golden dress glittering under the lights.

She danced with poised elegance with Malik, the drug lord of Central City. A hard stare at her, and my eyes widened—it was Alice.

“Holy fuck,” I mumbled, a hint of surprise and annoyance laced in my voice. I watched her lean closer to him, her breasts pressing against his chest. She leaned in even more, her lips pressing against his. They were obviously lost in their own twisted universe of romance.

“You’re done with her; just move on,” I muttered to myself. I took another long sip of my drink, averting my gaze to the crowd and nodding my head to the music. Despite my efforts to stay composed, I found myself stealing glances at her.

Finally, she looked at me, our eyes meeting. Her face was expressionless, devoid of any emotion. I felt the world freeze, the feelings I once had for her igniting in my heart.

She swiftly averted her eyes to Malik, and I watched him bury his head in her cleavage. She tilted her head back, enjoying the pleasure as he gently massaged her hips with his hands. Her lips parted, and she let out a soft moan. My grip tightened around the glass, my eyes never leaving them.

One thing was certain;I was coming for Malik, Alice and all those who spat on my face.

“Enjoy it while you can. I’m coming for you, and I will make you bleed,” I muttered, taking my last shot before walking out of the party.