Destroying Myself (Myself #3)

BC 4.1 - When I Be A Jealous Cat

Swiping my hand on the black denim, I took a deep breath, calmed the anxious emotions and knocked on the brown mahogany door. After the beat of a second, the door parted to reveal my brother, a file in his hand and his head dipped in it.

I cleared my throat.

He flipped his gaze, closed his file and offered me a small smile. It had been two weeks since I and Rahul had come back from our honeymoon, leaving behind the memories we had built in the small world of ours, just him and me for the first time in our lives.

"Do you need anything?" He stepped back into his study and I flurried inside to find the files and papers laying on his table. "Excuse the mess. Kiara was here." I nodded half-heartedly, thoughts jumbling with one another. How would I ask him? How would I ask my own brother how he killed someone else without the feel of any regret? How would I know the plan he built to hide himself in such a heinous crime? Should I be scared of my own brother? Should I shout at him for being this reckless?

Would he even listen to me?

"Did you talk to Rahul?" He asked, his head immersed in the files and the laptop.

Nodding, I replied, "He landed in the morning." I paused. "Thank you for the wedding gift."

A sudden smile flickered on his lips and he lifted his head. "I did nothing. Alina handled the work."

I lifted my brows in surprise. "Getting us a farmhouse in Maldives is Alina's plan?"

He nodded sheepishly. "She chose. I bought. Say thanks to her." He dipped his head back into his file, moved his fingers furiously on the paper. My gaze flickered to the portrait held behind his chair.

Alina and him.

Their wedding pictures.

They looked too royal and in love. Nobody could see and guess a person died with their plotting, nobody could see who my real brother and sister was.

"You killed him," I whispered. Blinking slowly, I slid it back to his face, contracted and tensed. His pen halted, his lips curled in a neutral smile. "Alina told me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," He said plainly, closed his file shut and settled down on his chair, leaning back.

Stop with this act and the pleasure that reflected in your eyes as if killing someone was a piece of cake. Rahul was still haunted on the fact of killing his Uncle, he still trembled some nights thinking how he turned into a murderer, but who was I to question it? Some days, he had this strange look like he didn't regret what he had done in that heat of the moment, as if it didn't matter a person had died.

I planted my hands on the table, leaned down and snarked, "You know exactly what I am talking about. Alina told you that I know."

He flicked his eyebrows in the air. "Alina told me nothing about what you're talking. Now will you excuse me. I have work to attend. Tell Alina to call me when she has to go for NGO."

Anger flared, seized every part of me, gripped the rational thought. Talking to Alina was easy but she wasn't exposing any stuff, withheld them in her heart as the deepest darkest secrets of her husband, not even granted permission to her best friend to look into.

She was his before anybody else.

But I was done acting as if I didn't matter in here. My brother's life was at stake here.

"Kabir," I rolled his name, tensed. "Tell me or else I will raise the hell in this house." His eyes twitched. "You know I will."

"I would like to see you try." He curled his lips in an amusing smile. "Don't forget about your niece and nephew. We don't want them to grow up in such a house."