Cross

13

Roman

Due to the nature of my brother's work, he's hardly ever home. The hospital provides him accommodation if he needs it and that's usually where he spends of his time. So, when I open the door to my office, I should be surprise to see him here. Except I'm not - I've been expecting him.

Xavier sits on the couch, head throw back and the liquid in his glass tumbler is not orange juice. It's unlike my brother to consume alcohol in the middle of the week so I know I'm getting an earful.

Rubbing my chin in anticipation, I sink into my desk chair and wait for him to speak.

Moments later, Xavier leans forward sipping every last drop of his cognac before slamming it down on the antique coffee table.

"She's still alive." He states in disappointment. Then he shrugs, "I'm not bother about whether she's alive or not. Arthur and I, I'm sure Penelope would too, would want her rotting six feet under." Xavier stood and strides  to stand in front of my desk. He spits, "You let her hold a funeral for her family. You gave them a headstone and flowers Roman." His eyes darken and rage flies off him in thick waves. "Have you lost your mind?"

"The Balandins are dead." I tell my brother.

"Apart from one."

"She didn't even know who she was." I argue. Christ, who am I to argue for this girl?

Winter not knowing her real identity doesn't change anything. My brothers and I vowed to kill off the entire Balandin family - close relatives, distant relatives; all of them. We scoured the continent chipping them off one after the other.

All that was left then was the main body of the family. The lousy Pakhan, his wife and their three kids. Killing them, I did the Head of the Bratva a favour.

"How good is her pussy, brother?" Xavier sneers, blaring his teeth at me. "You're defending her, has she got you wrapped around her fingers already?"

My expression darkens and I stand using my height and muscle mass to tower over my brother.

"She is mine to deal with." I tell him, "I own her and I'll have her paying for her crimes so enough."

Xavier chuckles bitterly, "I've heard her scream and it isn't in pain." He grabs his suit jacket and looks at me with hollow glassy eyes. "When we found Carmen and Penelope, they had already been through too much hell. It isn't fair your wife," he grimace at the word, "gets to sit outside and paint away her days." He turns to leave, leaving me alone with my conflicted thoughts.

Winter had nothing to do with the way my sisters suffered. She would've been just a little kid when it all happened. Still, in this world, we are all responsible for the actions of our family.

My mind drifts to Xavier's word. I do not doubt that Arthur feels the same way about Winter; and it must be killing him to have her around, roaming the grounds freely. Him and Carmen were close since they were the youngest.

He not only lost a sister but a best friend.

We found Carmen four months after finding Penelope. She sat in a cage, welts on her legs, cuts on her back. She had all sorts of sexually transmitted infections, confirmed by doctors once we were home.

Carmen was shell of herself; never spoke and only ate when she was force to. She had given up on life a long time ago.

The day she died, Xavier found her. She had thrown herself off her balcony but she didn't die right away. The pain she must've been in; the thoughts made me so angry.