Page 115 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

All this time, while taking all this shit from my parents, they weren’t even my parents?

I shake Roland until his teeth clack against each other. “Answer me!”

A smile shapes his mouth, and he laughs. “I’m not stupid, boy. I’ll tell you only when you turn eighteen. Or you will leave me sooner.” He licks his lips. “You’ll work while I enjoy my life.” His muffled scream reverberates through the house when my fist connects with his nose. The cracking sound fills the air, and blood pours instantly from his nose.

I kick him hard in the side, adding to his misery, and point a finger at him. “You will tell me everything tonight, fucker. If you don’t, this will seem like heaven.”

He mumbles something, but I pay no attention to it. I go to my room and take a shower in record time. And then with steam trailing after me, I race to their room, searching everywhere for any source of information.

I even check under the mattress but find nothing, frustrated and angry but still in control of my emotions.

I’ll beat the truth out of him.

After all, Roland is a coward.

And they have a tendency to break easily.

Orange and blue flames mingle, burning brightly in the fire pit as the sunset casts a beautiful glow on the horizon, basking us in warmth and calmness that none of us feel.

The family mansion is soaked in grief and pain, because its heir is still missing.

The maids walk around, setting up a round table with eight chairs and placing various dishes of food on it, from french fries to pasta.

Santiago’s favorites.

Although, why the family cook bothers, I’ll never know.

We don’t eat, just stare at the sky in silence, interrupted only by Aunt Rebecca’s quiet sobs.

I see her standing by the huge oak tree where we all used to hang out as kids, gently running her fingers over it while the wind billows her natural blonde hair backward, and her white dress plasters against her legs.

She hasn’t colored her hair since she lost Santiago nor created art pieces for that matter. Whatever she paints, she destroys right after and then starts all over again.

She locks herself in the house and rarely leaves, always waiting for Santiago to appear. According to her, he needs to see his mother first to know she believes he is alive.

My gaze shifts to Uncle Lucian, who just watches her, thinner than he was a few years back and more stoic.

He never outwardly shows any reaction, always just hugging his wife tight when she cries or erupts in hysterics, the hurt pouring from her, and he’s the only one who manages to calm her down.

When we found out Santiago was taken, Uncle Lucian disappeared for months, trying to find his son, using all his connections and underground resources. He came back defeated but then went in search all over again, never resting or caring about anything else but finding his son.

Their legacy was slowly falling apart; he wouldn’t come to the office or conduct any business. Everyone predicted their downfall and bankruptcy.

That’s when the Price family showed their loyalty to them. Grandpa Atlas went back to leading their jewelry empire, because Jacob stepped down to take the reins of the Cortezes’.

For four years, Uncle Jacob led the empire in such a way it not only survived the king’s absence but thrived and grew even bigger.

What a powerful friendship Santiago and I could have had.

Being there no matter what.

Uncle Lucian did eventually come back to a seminormal life; although, he still disappeared for a week every month and came back with either a gunshot wound or bruises on his body.

Aunt Rebecca still stays in the house, but she goes out to the garden now, laughing a bit more, although pain always etches her features.

And that happened all because of her.

A ray of sunshine who brightens up the darkness we all permanently reside in while harvesting hopeless dreams in our hearts for a happy future where the person we love most comes back to us.

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