8 years ago…
The basement was cold, as always.
Elian, barely seventeen, knelt on the damp concrete floor with his hands tied behind his back.
Michael, his older brother, crouched in front of him, dressed like he was going to a party, even in this hellhole.
Elian regarded his brothers with fear and a deep lining of hate.
Michael had always been their father’s favorite,. The golden child, the ruthless one, the one who never hesitated before killing.
“You’re still crying?” Michael asked softly, almost gently, as he wiped the tears from Elian’s bruised face with a handkerchief. He sighed, looking at Elian with pure disappointment.
“After everything I’ve taught you? Father says you’re too soft, Elian. You're too emotional and you embarrass the Virelli name.”
“I’m sorry,” Elian whispe
