A charade showcasing ego and control. The bubbling humor, however, faded when I crossed a sober reflection.
Not one cared for me.
It wasn’t fully their fault. They were never taught to protect me. Never taught to look out for me, and the only way they did was by causing others pain or treating me as they would a boy of their age. Mother was the only voice for me, but even then, it was minimal. After she was gone, they only had a slight idea of what wasn’t right. Shortly after, I never saw them again as I was shipped out of the country. The times I did see them, they had changed with time into vicious and overprotective brothers.
Dante didn’t like other men speaking to me. If they did, it always ended with his knives drawn and a fight. So when I received the whistle that caused the end o
