The night was quiet, unnervingly so. A thin crescent moon hung in the sky, casting pale light over the sprawling mansion where Ethan had spent his entire life. The house, once a symbol of family and warmth, now felt like a cold prison, its walls filled with resentment and betrayal. Ethan stood in the shadows of the garden, his eyes fixed on the warm glow spilling from the dining room window. Inside, his family laughed and celebrated, oblivious to the storm brewing within him.
His father, Gregory, sat at the head of the table, his stern face softened by rare laughter. Next to him sat Victor, the adopted son who had seamlessly taken Ethan's place in their father's heart. Victor's charm and cunning had turned the family against Ethan, painting him as a troublemaker while hiding his own cruel deeds. Even now, Victor's voice carried through the air, rich with false modesty as he recounted a fabricated tale of his supposed achievements.
Ethan clenched his fists, the nails digging into his palms. He could still feel the sting of his father's slap from earlier that evening, the humiliation of being accused of stealing his mother's necklace. The necklace, a family heirloom, had been the one thing that connected Ethan to his late grandmother. He had tried to protect it when he saw Victor sneaking it out of the safe, but his protests had fallen on deaf ears. Victor had spun a convincing lie, and the family had believed him without question.
The memory of his mother, Eliza, standing silently as Gregory and the rest of the family berated him, stung the most. Her eyes had been filled with doubt, but she had said nothing to defend him. It was as though her voice had been silenced by years of fear and submission.
Ethan's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Victor emerged from the house, a smug grin plastered on his face. "Still lurking in the shadows, little brother?" he sneered, his voice low enough to avoid carrying back to the dining room.
"What do you want, Victor?" Ethan's voice was cold, his anger barely contained.
"I just wanted to see how the family disappointment is holding up," Victor said, circling him like a predator. "You know, you really should thank me. Without me, this family wouldn't have anyone worth celebrating."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "You've stolen everything from me. My father's trust, my siblings' respect, and now even Mother's necklace. What more do you want?"
Victor leaned in, his voice dripping with malice. "Everything, Ethan. And there's nothing you can do about it."
For a moment, Ethan considered lunging at him, letting years of pent-up rage explode in a single act of defiance. But he knew it would be futile. Victor thrived on chaos, and any outburst would only serve to solidify his narrative.
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Ethan said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "Because one day, the truth will come out. And when it does, you'll have nothing left."
Victor laughed, the sound echoing in the still night. "Oh, Ethan, you're so naive. The truth doesn't matter. Power does. And I've already won."
With that, Victor turned and strode back into the house, leaving Ethan alone in the garden. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He stared up at the moon, its pale light a stark contrast to the darkness in his heart.
"If no one will stand by me, I'll stand alone," he whispered to himself. "I'll show them all. One day, they'll regret everything they've done."
The sound of tires crunching on gravel pulled him from his thoughts. A black car approached the mansion, its headlights cutting through the darkness. Ethan's brow furrowed. It was late for visitors, and the car's sleek design suggested someone important.
The driver stepped out, opening the back door for a tall man in a sharp suit. Ethan recognized him instantly—a business associate of his father's, known for his ruthless tactics and questionable ethics. As the man walked towards the house, his gaze briefly met Ethan's, and a chilling smile spread across his face.
Something about that smile made Ethan's blood run cold. He turned away, retreating further into the shadows. Deep down, he knew that this night was only the beginning of something far darker. His family's betrayal, Victor's malice, and now this ominous visitor—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle he couldn't yet understand.
But one thing was clear: his life would never be the same again.
Ethan lingered in the garden for hours, replaying the events of the day. The accusations, the humiliation, the laughter that came at his expense. It was as if the universe had conspired to strip him of everything he held dear. The once vibrant garden, where he had spent countless days as a child, now felt suffocating. The scent of blooming roses was cloying, a mockery of the joy he used to find here.
His mind wandered to the past, to memories of better days. He remembered the time when his mother used to braid his hair, singing softly as he sat on the kitchen floor. Back then, the world had seemed so simple, so full of promise. But those moments had been fleeting, overshadowed by the growing presence of Victor in their lives.
Victor had arrived when Ethan was ten, a scrawny boy with a haunted look in his eyes. Gregory had introduced him as the son of an old friend who had passed away, and the family had welcomed him with open arms. At first, Ethan had been excited to have a brother, someone to share his adventures and secrets with. But it hadn't taken long for Victor's true nature to reveal itself.
Victor was a master manipulator, even as a child. He had a way of twisting situations to his advantage, of making himself look like the victim while casting blame on others. Ethan had been his favorite target, and the rest of the family had been all too willing to believe Victor's lies. Over the years, the bond between Ethan and his family had frayed, worn thin by Victor's constant scheming.
Now, as he stood alone in the garden, Ethan realized just how deeply those bonds had been severed. He was no longer a part of this family, no longer the cherished son he had once been. He was an outcast, a scapegoat, a convenient target for their frustrations.
The sound of a door creaking open drew his attention. He turned to see his mother stepping out onto the patio, her silhouette illuminated by the warm glow from the house. For a moment, hope flickered in his chest. Perhaps she had come to apologize, to tell him that she believed him after all.
"Ethan," she called softly, her voice tinged with hesitation.
He stepped out of the shadows, his expression guarded. "Yes, Mother?"
She hesitated, her hands wringing nervously. "I… I just wanted to say that… you should try to get along with Victor. He's… he's going through a lot, and I think it would help if you two could find some common ground."
Ethan stared at her, disbelief and anger bubbling to the surface. "Is that what you think? That I should just ignore everything he's done and play nice?"
"Ethan, please," she said, her voice pleading. "He's your brother. Family is all we have."
"Family?" Ethan's voice rose, his anger finally breaking free. "Is that what you call this? A family that turns its back on its own, that believes lies over the truth, that lets a snake like Victor run wild?"
"Don't talk about your brother that way," she said, her tone sharpening. "He's been through so much, and we all need to support him."
Ethan laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and grating. "Support him? While he tears this family apart? While he steals and lies and ruins lives? No, Mother, I won't be a part of this anymore."
Her face crumpled, tears welling in her eyes. "Ethan, please. Don't do this. Don't let anger and pride destroy what little we have left."
But Ethan had heard enough. He turned away, his heart heavy with disappointment. "You've already destroyed it," he said quietly. "I'm just cleaning up the pieces."
As he walked away, he felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time, he was free of the weight of their expectations, free to forge his own path. He didn't know where that path would lead, but he knew one thing for certain: he would never let them hurt him again.
The black car was gone by the time Ethan returned to his room. He sat by the window, staring out at the moonlit garden, lost in thought. The events of the day had left him battered and bruised, but they had also ignited a fire within him. He would rise from the ashes of this betrayal, stronger and more determined than ever.
And one day, he would make them all pay.