Page 28 of Chaotic Curse
“What’s the difference?”
Ted leans back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head.“Ruthless is taking every dollar you’ve got just because I can.Consistent is playing fair—same rules for everyone, every turn.Even when it’s inconvenient.”
I frown, arms crossed.“But you could’ve let it slide.”
“I could’ve,” he agrees.“But then what kind of lesson would that teach you?”
“That life isn’t fair?”
He snorts.“Life’snotfair.That’s a given.But that doesn’t meanyoushouldn’t be.”
I look down at the board.At the money I have left.It’s not much, but I’m still in the game.
And if I’m still in the game, there’s still a chance.
* * *
Present Day…
I didn’t win that game.Ted did.
But I learned a valuable lesson.One that shaped me into the man I am today.
I was born into privilege.I knew that from the time I could think for myself.
My father taught me ranch work.
But Ted…
Ted taught me everything else.
I think about that Monopoly game more often than I probably should.Weird, how something so small—just paper money, plastic hotels, and a lopsided game board—could be a turning point.But it was.It really was.
That day, I understood fairness—that it can discriminate.I understood rules—that they’re not always fair, but they must be respected and applied to everyone equally.I started craving fairness.Not just for me—for everyone.Justice.Rules that apply across the board, no matter who you are, what you’ve got, or what you can get away with.I was twelve when I realized the game only works when everyone plays by the same rules.And I’ve been chasing that feeling ever since.
I became the guy who fixes things.
When my younger brother went off the rails, I reeled him back.When the family business needed someone to deal with legal, zoning, or political crap, I stepped up.Every time.
Not because Iwantedto be the dependable one.God knows I didn’t.But because it was the right thing to do.
Even now—especially now—I feel it pressing down on me.
Daniela.
She’s the exception.The first thing in my life that makes me want to break my own rules.Because with her, there is no middle ground.No measured, calculated move.Just instinct.Fire.Gut.
Yet that little voice—the echo of Ted’s voice—always lingers.
“Be fair, Hawk.Be just.Be better than the people who aren’t.”
I scrub a hand down my jaw, exhaling hard.
But what if justice meansbreakingthe rules this time?
What if fairness is protecting someone by any means necessary—even if it means becoming the thing I swore I’d never be?
Because if Daniela’s in danger—and I know damned well she is—then being consistent, being calm, being fair…
