Trapped in his End Game (Series)

Family. They’re important, right? They’re supposed to be there for you, stick up for you, bail you out of jail, care for you when you’re sick, and all that jazz. Maybe it’s cause I’m Italian, but I always put so much stock into family. Blood’s thicker than water. Family, family, family. It was practically beaten into my head as a kid. Ironic, considering my parents divorced. People who knew us thought we were the picture-perfect family. Such happy kids. Then Mom left, and we were alone for a while. The image wasn’t as perfect. Nathan had one less person to keep him in check.

My brother really doesn’t live that far away. We drive there in silence as I nervously count down the minutes. Even though I know my life is depending on it, I hope he’s wrong. I hope both my siblings didn’t go behind my back to sell the company. We’re a family. We weren’t supposed to be like this.

Lately, though, it seems like my father was the glue holding all of us together. Makes perfect sense, really. The moment he died, it all fell apart. The stitches holding us together were never that strong, but this is so much worse.

He parks in front of Nathan’s brownstone and I get out, looking up at the intimidating architecture as if my brother stands over me. Joe’s presence creeps up behind me and his palm runs up my back. I can’t fucking bear his touch.

I cross my arms and move out of the sphere of his arms.

Fuck him.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

Murdering psychopath.

“Do you think he’s home?”

It’s late in the evening and I know Nathan usually goes out to eat, but there are lights on in the house. All the fucking lies, the backstabbing, the betrayal-I’m sick of it. Sick of him. I’ve accepted it now before I’ve even spoken to him. Nathan did this. Of course he did.

My fist slams on the door. The door rattles as I reach up high and pound the motherfucker, imagining Nathan and Joe’s faces. He takes my shoulders and pulls me back.

“Easy, killer. You’re going to tip him off.”

I send him a withering look and he has the grace to look ashamed. He does not get to use pet names for me or be sweet. He does not get to pretend like he just didn’t try to kill me. The door cracks open and a sliver of Nathan shows through the door.

“Marisa. I’m afraid I’m occupied at the moment-”

Joe motions me to step back and then he slams his body into the door, the flimsy chain holding the door closing breaking off. Nathan yells in outrage as Joe flies into the foyer and grabs his neck, slamming my brother’s head into the wall. Heart pounding, I step inside and shut the door.

“Shut the fuck up,” Joe hisses.

Nathan’s apartment is an upscale place, filled with the most pretentious furniture you could imagine. Antique desks and vases, a long, white slab for a couch, and prints hung on the walls that he thought could probably pass as real paintings. It’s all too deliberately color-coded, as if he expected someone to walk into his apartment at any moment and critique it. There are no personal effects. No photographs save for a small one of Dad in the living room. Just to keep up appearances.

He snarls at me as Joe grinds his face into the wall. I walk close enough to smell his toothpaste-scented breath.

“You convened with the board behind my back to sell the company. We both know that that’s illegal. Did you really think that would work?”

“Get this fucking meathead off of me!”

“Not until you admit it!”

He breathes through his nostrils like a bull snorting. Blue eyes cut into me, the irises like the white-blue flame of a hot fire. “Yeah, I fucking did it. Only, it wasn’t illegal. You’re out.”

Joe pulls him off the wall and marches him into the living room, throwing him onto the couch. He stands up, but Joe forces him back down. Nathan gives me a look filled with livid fear.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to gain by being here-”

“What did you mean?” My voice grows louder. “What do you mean, I’m out?”

A jackal-like smile spreads over his lips. He sits up straight, gripping the edge of the couch. “You were voted out.”

A violent flush fills my cheeks as Nathan gloats with that sickening smile. They voted me out?

“Don’t look so surprised. You haven’t been living up to the boards’ expectations, and choosing to skip out on work all week didn’t do you any favors.”

His words cut deep into my soul. The ice-blue eyes follow me as I sit down on one of the horribly uncomfortable chairs. Joe’s face creases in sympathy and he makes a sudden movement, as if he wants to come to my side, but instead he grabs Nathan’s shoulder and squeezes.

“That’s complete bullshit. My associate has attended board meetings-”

“Oh, you mean Vincent? Yeah, the board took to him very well. Especially when everybody knows who he’s associated with.”

Joe’s swift fist comes out of nowhere, plying against Nathan’s face. He drops down to the floor and moans in pain.

“Joe, please. You got your confession. Can we leave, now?”

“No, because it’s all a lie.”

“It’s not a fucking lie!” he screams from the floor.

Joe shuts him up with a sudden kick to his stomach. His face reddens like a tomato and he makes a hideous sound.

Jesus, I can’t watch this. He’s still my brother-I don’t feel a shred of satisfaction from watching him scream in pain. Especially when it was all my fault to begin with.

“Tell me the fucking truth! What deal did you cut with Jamie?”

“That man is a better businessman than you Vittorio fuck-ups. He didn’t have to beat me to get me involved. Fuck you!” He cringes as Joe aims another steel-toed boot towards his gut.

“Nathan, don’t you realize what you’ve done? Dad was involved with the Vittorios. He got mixed up with the wrong people. I was almost killed because of the sale. It won’t go through. It can’t.”

Nathan looks up at me, unconcerned by the hysteria in my voice. “Jessica and I wanted out. Jamie gave me a pretty good deal, so I took it. I don’t give a shit what happens to you.”

The last piece of clinging hope drops away, quickly eaten by flames. Jessica might have just been a casualty. “Fine, you hate me, but what about your other sister? She has no idea what’s going on, does she?”

He smiles, and this time I feel a small thrill of triumph when Joe seizes him upright and smashes his fist against his face. Nathan’s nose breaks and blood pours out of his nose. He screams and holds his hand to himself, trying to stem the flow of blood.

I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to look at his face for one more second. I turn my back on the two men struggling together.

“Marisa, where the fuck are you going?”

My feet hardly make a sound as I leave my brother’s apartment and walk outside. I sit down on the stairs of his brownstone, trying to escape the pain of his vicious words. There is a ringing of truth to them, which makes it all the more worse. I wasn’t good enough to be President. Dad made a mistake.

Who the fuck cares about Dad?

I jump at the sound of the door closing and feel a pair of footsteps jogging down the steps. He sits down beside me, his warmth no longer a comfort. All it does is remind me of how fucked up my life is.

“We should go before he calls the cops.”

His hands are smeared with blood, his knuckles slightly swollen from beating the shit out of my brother.

“I can’t believe they voted me out. I tried so hard.”

“Marisa, I don’t think he told us the whole story. There’s more to it than that.”

I stand up quickly. Right now, I can’t stomach any kind of reassurance from a man who only hours ago, tried to put a bullet in my head. “Take me to my apartment.”

His face darkens. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I want to go home.”

Joe stands up wearily. “Fine.”

The ride there is uncomfortably silent. Emotions broil inside me. I’m just waiting for him to say something wrong, so that I can lash out at someone. This is worse than the day my dad died. I just want to be alone and wallow in the misery of it all. I need to drown myself in cartoons and feel light for a moment.

I turn on Joe when he follows me to the door of my apartment. “Go home. Do whatever the fuck you people do. You have your fucking proof, and I’m not the head of the company anymore.”

He recoils as if I struck him. “I’m sorry. I’m ashamed of myself-”

A hysterical laugh echoes down the hallway. “Oh! You’re ashamed? Fuck, I would have never guessed that you almost killed someone for no reason.”

He stands there, looking like a browbeaten kid as I unleash my tirade.

“How about self-disgust, because you disgust me. I’m probably the biggest moron who ever lived. I actually thought you cared about me.”

Joe takes my hands and yanks me into his chest. “Marisa, I could have never hurt you. Please believe me.” His lips tremble, white and shaking. “They would have gotten to you anyway, I was just trying-”

“So death was my only option? I couldn’t have taken a train somewhere? You couldn’t have done that, you fucking asshole?”

“No. They were watching me. Jack knew I was too attached to you. He didn’t trust me to do the job.”

Still, the act was inexcusable. His mouth could run with all the reasons in the world, and I still wouldn’t forgive him. Utter devastation wracks through my limbs and suddenly, tears choke through my voice. I know what I have to do, but it kills me to do it. He’s the only man who ever understood me. He makes me feel like I’m incredible, and no one has ever been able to do that.

Joe destroyed all of that when he put that gun to my head.

“I never want to see you again.”

His face falls apart, and for a moment he looks like I’ve stabbed him in the chest. The emotion on his face takes the wind out of my sails momentarily, but then his face hardens. “I’m not letting you go that easily, Marisa.”

“Get the fuck out of my life,” I say between gasps.

I want to shove him out of my face, but he pins both arms on the sides of my head and against my will my skin tingles.

“You don’t want that. New Jersey might have backed off, but they still might consider you a threat.”

Tears rise in a lump lodged in my throat. I swallow them down. “I don’t have anything you want anymore. There’s no reason for you to give a shit about my life.”

Inches from my face, he speaks. “Yeah, there is. I’m in love with you.”

Nothing but shock radiates down my limbs. He loves me? No, the bastard thinks he does. He’s so fucked up in the head, that he can’t realize what a healthy relationship is. A sickening soaring sensation fills my chest. “You don’t love me.”

A smile twitches on his lips. “Yeah, I do. Otherwise I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble to prove your innocence. I would have gotten rid of you and been on my way.”

“God, you’re fucking sick in the head.”

His eyes are dented with pain. “I know, Marisa. I know that. I made a huge mistake, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t want it.”

The feeling I get when I look into his eyes scares me. The tenderness in his eyes makes me want to forgive him.

“You’re more important than the family. You’re the one who made me feel that happiness was possible again. I realized that when I was-” His voice is tortured and he takes a step back, inhaling a shuddering breath.

“When you were about to kill me?” I supply, my voice filled with disgust. I turn around and unlock the door. “If you come here again, I’ll call the police.”

“Marisa, please!”

I take great satisfaction with slamming the door in his face. Then I crumple against the door, sobbing as I collapse.