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Theo
An idiot might glance at my soulless brother and think he’s calmed down. He hasn’t. He's stewing, sitting steady, barely moving, yet his breathing is steady, his eyes scarcely blinking. I imagine he’s envisioning how he’s going to make Andrew suffer.
We've finally stopped sedating him, and now the real planning begins. Scheming how to destroy a king is one thing, but ensuring his entire kingdom and son crumble is a mission on another level. A rather exciting one.
The Sinclairs, wise in their manipulation, have spent years currying the public's favor through charity events, large donations, and the masterful manipulation of false promises into perceived deliveries. Oliver Sinclair has not only gained favor; he has bought loyalty, the hardest commodity of all.
They hail from old European money, roots tangled in the mafia, drugs, and sex trafficking. Their surname used to be Sinceri, but two generations ago, they moved to America.
You know what's funny? The meaning of Sinceri means sincere. The opposite of Oliver and Andrew.
Andrew's grandad changed the name to Sinclair, a smart move because it sounded more old-money American, making them fit into the circles better. It was all a crafted lie painted so perfectly.
Oliver never wandered too far from the family tree. The mafia, as it was known, is nearly extinct. Its survivors have adapted and migrated into different arenas. Oliver thrives in the political arena. But politics is merely a game, and the players are just that—players.
The real power lies with the spectators, the ones who get to sit back, watch, and enjoy the show—otherwise known as The Obsidian Order. We’ve been sitting, and yes, there are those of us who have supported Oliver and made deals to help him come into power.
That’s all about to change.
Oliver is soon to witness how swiftly the tides can turn, starting with his political aspirations. Not everyone in The Obsidian Order was pleased, but understanding prevails: letting one transgression go unpunished opens the gates for others. The Sinclair's will serve as our example.
I hold the little Lego my mother gave me when I was a child. I started building with them, and that’s when my love of design first grew. Of course, Mom had no idea I’d be designing weapons for Dad’s company one day. I flip it over and over again in the palm of my hand. It’s so deceiving, a small toy I’ve had since I was a boy. It’s a mask, a trick, just like I am. It serves as a reminder of the duality within me—engineer of weapons, protector and destroyer, broken boy, monster, a beast trying to keep his family and brothers safe, and member of The Obsidian Order.
“When are you going to step out of the shadows?” I ask my soulless brother, my voice echoing slightly in the stark room of the safe house. I place the Lego on the table, tapping it idly as I await his response.
“How can I when every wrong I've tried to right has been undone?” he bites back, his jaw clenching, eyes darkening with unspoken fury.
“What’s undone can be fixed; you just have to be willing to try,” Ivan interjects, pausing his typing to join our somber discussion. In our group—Kade, Ivan, Leon, and I—there's an unspoken commitment never to leave our soulless brother to his own devices, lest he make an unwise decision.
A long exhale, sounding more like a growl of a cornered animal, fills the room.“Does Julian love her?” he finally asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
I nod solemnly.“Yes,” I reply. Ivan and I exchange worried glances, monitoring our brother's reaction closely.
“Good. She doesn’t need me then; she has Julian,” he states, a semblance of resignation in his tone as he rises and strides toward the door. Ivan quickly stands to follow. The door slams shut, leaving me in a heavy silence.
Holding the Lego between my fingers, I ponder simpler times before slipping it into my pocket.
I grab my phone and call Julian; he picks up right away.“I told Uncle Dan we are taking over,” I begin. His silence fills the line; I hear his feet hurrying. I glance at my watch; it’s three a.m., and I’m guessing he’s slipping out of bed, trying not to wake Poppy. They just got back from their trip to D.C.
“You told him?” Julian confirms with a slight bit of shock. My brother still doesn’t grasp the power of my new family. He can’t comprehend how it would make a man like our uncle back off.“Uncle trusts my men,” I assure him.
"Trust or fears?" Julian questions.
"It goes hand in hand," I reply, grinning. I've missed our banter. When he was deployed, I was lucky to get a phone call. The few calls he made were spent calling Kent, who needed him more.
"What about Harper? She won't back off so easily, and I don’t want her getting involved with you."
"Is that an insult?" I joke.
"Theo, I'm serious."
I roll my eyes, "Harper's being handled," I say. I don’t tell Julian that Harper is also being looked into. Harper is an intriguing person, and I can see why Uncle Dan wanted her on his team. Her resume is impressive, and it is catching the attention of The Obsidian Order now that she is on our radar. We recruit the finest and those who have been broken—it's a crucial psychological strategy. The Obsidian Order values broken individuals; it allows them to mold them anew in their desired image.
They always give you a choice, and I happened to like the image they offered me. I accepted, and here I am. I wonder if Harper will do the same?
"Handle her?" Julian replies, concern edging his voice, "Why does that sound like a 'hit'?"
I snort. I guess it did sound ominous, but Harper is too valuable to eliminate. "Chill out," I assure him.
