Unleashing My Boyfriend's Brother Desires

Abuser

"What's this supposed to mean?" Max grunts, staring at the ring I placed in his hand as soon as we got into our bedroom.

The place was still a mess, and it might just be in my head, but I could still smell that woman's perfume. I didn't even feel the pain anymore. He'd broken my heart so many times that I was just numb to this kind of thing, but the betrayal was still there. We had one rule. One simple f*****g rule! And he didn't care enough to respect that one boundary I had set.

His voice was low, and his eyes were narrowed on my figure and despite the silent anger that bubbled in those black eyes of his, I didn't see it coming...

"You think you can just dump me?" he blurts out, tossing the ring my way and, before I can dodge him, his hand sinks into my hair, and he yanks me towards him, forcing me on my toes as he brings my face closer to his.

A short yelp escapes me and my hands reach up instinctively, but he doesn't let me grab him.

"Do you think that you, a literal nobody, can dump me?!" he mocks me and gives my head a short, rough shake, making it feel as if he was trying to rip my hair off of my scalp, trying to get me to talk.

But I knew better than to feed his anger. Tears pooled in my eyes and I only let out a shaky breath. Not only have I gotten used to this kind of behavior, but I have learned my way around it, for most of the time at least.

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, and he lets me go with a shove, before slowly turning around and brushing both his hands over his face with a loud groan. I stumble backwards, my back hitting one of the little shelves, which forces some of the things to tumble down.

And that might have been the thing that tipped the whole thing against my favour.

- ALEXANDER'S POV -

I know terror when I see it, but to understand the reason for it, I needed to know more than what I already had to process. Selena barely looks at me as Max leads her upstairs, but I notice she is shaking and all I could think of, was that I'd be shaking too, in such a situation. In anger, in resentment, in whatever emotion you can even allow yourself to feel in such a situation.

I'm not sure what kind of emotions I, myself, felt. Was it disgust? Or maybe shame? Guilt? Maybe a mix of all three, as I watched my own damn brother act with such nonchalance. My own blood...

It makes me itch with something I haven't felt before, and I can't put my finger on it. It made me feel guilty. Have I really failed my dead parents by making Max into the man he is today?

Of course, I was aware of his infidelities. The whole family was... I have never supported or encouraged them, and I was more than certain that this whole thing he had going on with Selena would come to an end. The girl was far from being royal. Yes, she might have been the most gorgeous woman that Max had ever courted. She was gentle, feminine in every possible way, her hazel eyes always filled with kindness and curiosity, but she was not fit to be part of the family.

Things were meant to break sooner or later.

But I'm not sure if I could make peace with myself if they broke up in such a way. Yes, she was kind and gentle and everything, but such a violent breakup might stir her to start defaming-

My train of thoughts came to a sudden stop, my eyes focusing on the glass of liquor I had in my hand, while the muffled sounds of an altercation disturbed the overall silence of the house.

At first, I was more than certain this was nothing but a fable of my own imagination.

Silence settles for now, and I slowly bring the glass up to my lips, sipping from the strong spirit and swallowing harshly. A scream fills the newfound silence, muffled by clear words of accusation that I can't really understand.

I froze in my spot, completely dumbfounded by the notion of domestic violence happening at the hands of my own younger brother.

I'm not sure for how long I am rooted in my place, but eventually, I snap out of my shock and realize that I hear footsteps. When I turned my head towards the door of the living room, I spotted none other but Max.

He was clean, smelling harshly of cologne, dressed and ready to go out, and I just couldn't wrap my head around what was going on right now. He seemed to act as if nothing had happened. His eyes meet mine and I can feel my stomach twist and turn and I swallow past the lump in my throat, to force it from spilling whatever I had for breakfast today.

Nothing about him told me about the fact that he had just taken his anger out on an innocent woman. Nothing but the slightly red and barely bruised knuckles of his hands.

"Glad you helped yourself- " he smiled at me, gesturing to the whiskey bottle that I had opened, and went ahead.

Nothing around me feels real and besides the nausea that just keeps growing, I can feel little beads of sweat pooling on my back, trickling down my spine, accentuating the overall almost surreal feeling about this whole experience.

I look down at the glass in my hand and I have to convince myself this was not just a bad dream. I had to convince myself that what I heard was real, and I was awake and my brother... my younger brother... whatever was left of our dead mom... was an abuser. A monster. My brother. The prince bearing the Callahan name...

I can taste bile on my tongue, and I'm not sure if I can hold myself together.

Max pours himself a drink as well, his face twisting up in a grimace at how strong the alcohol was, before his lips peeled back in a nonchalant smirk.

"Shall we?" he hums and fixes his coat and I just stare at him.

Shall we what?

As I don't answer, a sliver of confusion blooms on his face as well and his brows narrow lightly. His almost black eyes remind me so much of our mother, that right now I am almost convinced this was a dream. Or I begged God for it to be, because I could not stand the idea of hating those eyes...

"Aren't we going to run late?" Max huffs, amusement dancing on his lips, as he gets a little fidgety.

I don't answer.

Where were we going?

Ah... yes... that stupid inauguration of the hospital my wife wanted to build that...

Gods! It's even hard to think coherently.

When I take too long to react, Max waves a hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice muffled by the drumming of my heart.

I feel light headed and suddenly fatigued. A groan escapes me and I bring my hand up, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to push away the sudden headache that made it feel like my head was going to burst.

"Is... ah-" I hiss brought my lips, brushing my hand over my face to try to get some sense back into myself, before my sanity slips away. "Is Selena ready as well?" I ask, trying my best to not sound strained or weird in any way.

Max doesn't seem to pick on my uneasiness. He smiles and waves his hand.

"She's fine. She said she had a lot to work on for her upcoming art exhibition. Wouldn't want to get in the way of a young artist-" he shrugs lightly, putting on a fake proud but arrogant smile which makes me itch in ways I have never itched before.

I wanted to wipe off that smile and shove it where the sun doesn't shine.... but I was better than this kind of behavior. Or wasn't I?

My eyes trailed to the stairs that twirled upwards, and then back at him.

"She said that..." I murmured and slowly put my glass down. "Interesting." I added, my throat dry and my heart hammering so hard in my chest that I felt as if it was trying to break out of my chest. "Could you at least look me in the eye when you lie to me?" I grunt, my eyes pinned on his face.

Max's body stiffens lightly, his eyes now forcefully supporting my gaze.

"What happened upstairs?" I bluntly ask, my anger bubbling a little bit out of control right now.

"What are you talking about?!" Max huffs, faking a smile.

"What. Happened. Upstairs, Max?"

"None of your business." He answers, his smile dropping, his eyes cold and distant. "Whatever I do with my fiancee, is none of your business. Got that?" he continues, his voice low, a little husky.

The boy was playing the tough card on me and I don't think I have ever felt more disrespected than I do right now and that thick me off badly enough that I decided against all diplomacy.

"None of my business?" I repeated, with a little bit of amusement and, I have to admit, surprise. "Then, I am going to ask Selena about it." I hum and walk past him, towards the stairs.

But I barely got to take a few steps before Max's hand reaches out, and he grabs my wrist.

He remains silent, and as I turn around, I swing as hard as I can, my fist colliding with his stomach.

Max bends forward, belching and gasping for air, his arms wrapping around his abdomen, his eyes round and wide, filling with tears as he gawked up at me.

"What the f**k-" he mouths and I straighten myself, flexing my fingers lightly.