Hayden approached Melissa and Josh, his eyes filled with fury. The tension was palpable as he glared at them, his frustration simmering just below the surface. Melissa, swaying unsteadily, turned her head toward him with a playful grin on her face. She was clearly intoxicated, her movements loose, her laugh loud and uncontrolled. As Hayden got closer, she giggled, her eyes half-lidded as she reached out and pressed a hand to his chest, tracing lazy circles in a sultry manner.
"Hayden!" she slurred, her laughter spilling out uncontrollably, "What's wrong, babe? Why are you so mad?"
Hayden didn't respond to her at first. Instead, he shot a sharp glare at Josh, who was leaning back against the bar, equally drunk but far less concerned about the brewing storm. Without taking his eyes off Josh, Hayden's voice came out low and accusing.
"What did you put in her drink, Josh?"
Josh blinked in confusion, then gave a casual shrug, waving a hand as if to dismiss the accusation. "It's nothing, bro. Just some fun. Chill out."
Melissa, oblivious to the tension and Hayden's growing anger, burst into another fit of giggles. She pulled Hayden closer, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her body against his, her laughter wild and unsteady.
"Why are you always so serious?" she purred, her breath heavy with the smell of alcohol. She tilted her head toward Josh and gave Hayden a playful shove. "Can't you be more... easygoing like him? Hmm?" She pointed at Josh with a sloppy gesture, her body swaying dangerously close to losing balance.
Before she could lean in any further, trying to kiss him, Hayden grabbed her by the shoulders and blocked the kiss with his hand, gently pushing her back. His patience was wearing thin, but he kept his voice steady. "We're going home," he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He then turned back to Josh, his expression cold and stern.
"I don't want to see you near my wife again," Hayden warned, his voice low and filled with a quiet menace.
Josh raised his hands in surrender, his face twisting into a lazy grin. "Relax, bro. I didn't mean anything by it." He slurred his words, waving a casual goodbye at Melissa, who waved back with a drunken giggle.
Hayden didn't waste any more time. He grabbed Melissa by the arm, pulling her away from Josh and steering her toward the exit. She stumbled along beside him, laughing to herself as they made their way outside to the parking lot, where Hayden's car was parked.
As they reached the car, Melissa leaned heavily against him, her body swaying and her words a tangled mess of drunken thoughts. "You should smile sometimes," she said, her voice sultry as she bit her lip, looking up at him through her lashes.
Hayden ignored her flirtatious behavior, focusing on getting her into the car. "You're not yourself," he said calmly, his tone serious. He helped her into the passenger seat, gently buckling her in as she leaned back in the seat with a dazed expression. His face softened for a moment as he looked at her, but his voice remained firm. "You won't remember any of this tomorrow."
Melissa snorted, leaning her head back against the seat, her eyes half-closed but still mischievous. "Josh said you're a doctor..." she muttered, laughing again, her words slurred and uneven. She imitated the sound of a gunshot, mimicking a headshot with her hand. "Boom! A doctor! Who would've thought?"
Hayden's jaw tightened, but he remained calm, his hands gripping the steering wheel. "Maybe you should think about who you're talking to," he said, his voice low and serious, casting a sidelong glance at her.
Melissa leaned back in her seat, laughing lazily again, but there was a flicker of something darker in her eyes. She squinted at him, her expression shifting into something more calculating. "Yes... I forgot," she said sarcastically, her tone mocking as she stared at him.
She paused, looking at him closely as if trying to piece together something she had long forgotten. "Tell me... who are you, really?"
As Hayden drove, the rhythmic hum of the engine and the blur of passing streetlights faded into the background. Melissa's drunken words replayed in his mind, pulling him into memories long buried. Her question—*Who are you, really?*—had triggered something deep within him, something connected to a time he had tried to forget. The past came rushing back, and suddenly, he was no longer in the car. He was back in the mansion he grew up in, five years younger, sitting across from his brother Harvey at the chessboard.
The room was warm and filled with the scent of aged wood and cigars, the kind their father favored. A younger Hayden, still full of innocent curiosity, was focused intently on the chessboard, strategizing his next move. Across from him, his older brother Harvey leaned back in his chair, watching Hayden with a fond smile. They were in the middle of their usual game, a peaceful moment in an otherwise chaotic household.
The door opened, and the heavy footsteps of their bodyguard echoed in the room. He approached them, his expression blank but his voice authoritative. "Harvey, your father wants you to join today's session."
Harvey sighed, giving the bodyguard a curt nod before the man turned and left without another word. Harvey didn't rise immediately, instead turning back to Hayden, who was staring at the chessboard, frustration clouding his young face.
"Father never lets me at the adults' table," Hayden muttered, a mixture of disappointment and resentment coloring his voice. His hand hovered over the chess pieces, but his mind was elsewhere. It was always like this—Harvey was summoned for meetings and business, while Hayden was kept at a distance, treated like he was fragile, something to be protected.
Harvey, noticing his little brother's mood, reached across the table and ruffled Hayden's hair with a reassuring smile. "He's just protecting you, Hayden," Harvey said softly, his voice carrying the weight of their complicated family dynamics.
Hayden didn't seem convinced. "He thinks I'm weak," he said, his voice quieter, more vulnerable, as he stared at the chessboard, refusing to meet Harvey's eyes. There was a sting in admitting it out loud, a bitter truth he felt deep inside. Being excluded, time and time again, made him feel like an outsider in his own family.
Harvey's expression softened. "You're not weak, little brother," he said firmly, his voice filled with conviction. "Look at the board." He gestured toward the chess game they had been playing, and Hayden's eyes followed. The pieces were arranged in such a way that Hayden had outmaneuvered his older brother—a clear victory in the making.
"You just beat me," Harvey said with a grin, pointing to the board. "See? You're smarter and stronger than you think."
Hayden's mood brightened at the sight of his success, but the doubt still lingered. He looked up at Harvey, a glimmer of hope in his young eyes. "Do you think I'll ever get a seat at the adults' table? Will Father ever let me be part of the family business?"
Harvey's smile widened, and he leaned forward, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "When I become the leader of the Torex gang, I'll make sure you have a seat at the table, Hayden. I promise."
Hayden's eyes lit up, the excitement clear on his face. "Really?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of awe and disbelief. His brother's words carried a weight that was more than just comfort—it was a promise of inclusion, of belonging.
"Really," Harvey said, his tone sincere. He reached across the table and squeezed Hayden's shoulder. "You're my little brother. I'll always have your back, no matter what."
Hayden's face broke into a wide smile, the kind of pure happiness that came from feeling understood and supported. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he had a place in the world, a future where he wasn't just on the sidelines. With Harvey's reassurance, everything felt possible.
That memory, the bond between them, had meant everything to Hayden. Harvey had been more than just an older brother—he had been a protector, a mentor, someone who made him believe he was more than the sheltered boy their father saw. But as the memory lingered in his mind, Hayden's chest tightened with the weight of what would come later. He had believed in Harvey's promise, trusted in it with everything he had.
But that was before.
Before Harvey was gone.
Before everything changed.
Hayden's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white as the memory faded and he was pulled back into the present. The light from the dashboard illuminated the lines of his face, making him look older, more hardened by time and loss. Melissa was slumped in the passenger seat, mumbling to herself in her drunken haze, oblivious to the storm brewing inside him.
He had spent so many years pushing that memory to the back of his mind, trying to forget the promises that were never fulfilled. Harvey's death had shattered everything, leaving Hayden to carry the weight of the family's expectations on his own. And now, here he was, five years later, with a wife who didn't even know the full extent of who he was—of what he was.
The world Harvey had promised him, the seat at the adults' table, had become a reality, but not in the way either of them had imagined. There was no warmth, no brotherly bond to make it easier. Just cold, hard responsibility.
As they neared home, Hayden's mind remained clouded with the echoes of his brother's words, the weight of his past pressing heavily on his chest. He glanced at Melissa, her eyes closed as she drifted in and out of consciousness, unaware of the inner turmoil that consumed him.
*You are my little brother. I'll always have your back.*
But Harvey wasn't there anymore, and the promise, like so many other things, had died with him.
Hayden's jaw tightened, and he pushed the memories back down, forcing his focus on the road ahead. There was no use dwelling on the past, not when the future was uncertain, and the present was filled with challenges of its own.