Sociopath's Revenge (27 page)

Dominic was another story altogether though. Even those two little snippets of moments we shared, he overwhelmed me with his masculinity and the powerful energy coming from him in waves.

I didn't believe in love at first sight, even though I loved reading romance books. My deep attraction and fascination with him had another name.

Desire.

The tingling sensation in my body, images of his tattooed skin against mine, his deep, low voice talking to me in the heat of the moment.

I longed to explore it and finally find out what all the fuss about sex was.

But he was Damian's twin. If I tried anything with him, everyone would think I had a crush on Damian all along, and it just wasn't true. He was like a big brother to me. The idea of seeing him in any other light but platonic grossed me out.

How could I react so differently to the same face? And how could the universe screw me so much? Weren't there other men on the planet to tempt me?

Wiping away the tears that unexpectedly rolled down my cheeks, I plastered a smile on my face and went in the search of the Scott family.

On the way to Damian's room, I ignored the tiny little voice that urged me to let go of all those stupid insecurities and run to Dominic.

New York, New York.

Damian, 19 years old

The man in front of me was dead.

His lifeless body lay on the floor as blood poured from his cut flesh, creating a wet, red pool around him. His back had ten names written on it with a sharp hook, leaving angry red marks, and his chest held several red lines made with a kitchen knife. His fingers were broken, twisted in different directions, and they had no nails; they'd been removed with pliers. His stomach had five stab wounds from the blade, and finally, his head and face were blue and yellow from all the punches and blows from a metal bar he received.

Pleasure like I never knew before filled me, making me laugh loudly in the dark, secluded dungeon I created.

My first kill as Sociopath.

No limitations. No fear. No conscience.

All this was my work, and I couldn't be prouder of what I'd done. The piece of fucking shit raped women and mostly got off on beating them half to death. Also, he was one of John's clients who liked to touch little girls.

His punishment seemed generous to me.

I made it my life's mission to find each one of their clients and destroy them, one by one, so they'd know what it was like for all the kids like me to experience agonizing pain and humiliation daily like they did to us. I wouldn't rest until my brother, the one who sacrificed his life for me, was avenged for the injustice done to us.

For a split second, guilt reared its ugly head as I imagined Dominic's reaction to this. He wouldn't ever have approved of any display of violence, and he probably would have preached about living this life happily, leaving all the dark memories behind.

But that was the difference between us.

I couldn't forget or forgive, and nothing would stop me on my path.

Moscow, Russia.

Dominic, 19 years old

The man fell to the ground as I fired my gun straight to his heart. The fear and shock in his eyes didn't awaken any feelings inside me.

He betrayed Bratva, so mercy was out of the question, especially when the rest of my life depended on it. Vasya clapped his hands, patting me warmly on the shoulder. "You passed the test, boy. Not that I ever doubted you." The pride was evident in his voice. "You are now officially part of Bratva." With that, he took out a cross and placed it around my neck. "That's my gift to you. Everyone will know that Vasya Konstantinov has claimed you. You're now under the protection of my power." The other men in the garden where the assassination took place whistled and several of them fired their guns up in the sky, showing their approval in their own way.

I killed a man willingly for the first time, and nothing shifted inside me, and for a second, thoughts of Damian came back to me.

Somewhere, he probably lived a carefree life, where the dark world and deaths didn't touch him. He forgot about me, and probably put all the shit that happened to us behind him as I asked him many times.

Oddly, it felt good to have at least the knowledge that he was happy out there.

Even if another part of me resented him for it.

"Come on, Dom. Let's get to the girls so you can properly celebrate." Vasya chuckled, and I nodded in agreement. Fucking sounded good, not that it brought anything but physical relief and blanked my mind from all the memories.

That was the difference between Damian and me.

My world was filled with crime and dirt, hopefully something he never had to be part of.

Damian

"Are you su—"

I grabbed Sapphire by the nape of her neck and shut her up with a gentle kiss on her mouth as she sighed in pleasure. Nothing calmed us both down like physical touch with each other. We stood there in a locked embrace, giving each other strength for what was supposed to come. I let go of her lips and pressed my forehead against hers. "I'm all right, baby." She gave me a skeptical look. Kristina shifted in my arms, but after a moment, she went back to sleep on my shoulder. After the accident, we just couldn't leave her alone anywhere.

"I don't think you're supposed to, though. I can't imagine being in your situation and not freak out about it." I half smiled, trying to ease her worry, even though it fucking hurt to fake an emotion for her.

Dominic was alive.

Sapphire told me the truth a week ago, once I woke up in the hospital bed. I thought she had lost her mind. All this seemed unreal, but the familiar feelings toward the man who saved my life made sense. Connor came in shortly and confirmed her words, and if it weren't for my broken leg, nothing would have stopped me from killing my friend right there for lying to me and endangering my child.

However, once Sapphire escorted him out, I almost couldn't believe the happiness in my chest at the thought of seeing my brother again and knowing he was alive. All those memories of us together in the cell, the connection we shared, everything.

But the happiness was quickly gone as bitter resentment settled inside me. Dominic was alive all those years and couldn't even bother letting me know? Based on what I understood, he was the Pakhan of the Russian Mafia. So while I made my life's mission to avenge his death and kill all those who wronged us, he lived like royalty in fucking Russia.

Conflicted didn't even begin to cover what I felt all this week, but we were finally at the doorstep of Connor's house where we were all to meet.

We hadn't pressed the bell yet, and part of me dreaded it. I loved my baby brother, the one whose memories I held onto all those years. But I wasn't sure I'd want to shatter all this by getting to know the real grown-up version of him.

With a determined stare, I rang the doorbell, and in a second, Connor greeted us with a wide but tense smile. "Hi, guys, come on in." He waved toward the living room, and we followed him.

I stopped abruptly as I noticed Dominic near the couch, and we both stared at each other, his eyes scanning me as I did the same with him.

My mirror image before the accident, but still we shared the same face. He didn't say anything, and I didn't feel like starting the conversation either, so I placed Kristina on a small loveseat near the door and covered her with a blanket. I proceeded to the couch that he previously occupied, sat on it, and waited for his next move. After a beat, he settled too with only a few inches of distance separating us.

Connor came back, poured glasses of whiskey for everyone, and then gave them to each of us.

Sapphire

"They will rot in a fucking prison for everything they did," Connor said spitefully, taking a huge sip of his drink while Dominic's eyes narrowed on the nearby couch where Kristina slept soundly. He was making sure she didn't hear him curse, and his consideration warmed my heart.

It still seemed surreal to me that Dominic was alive and in front of us. No matter how much I tried, my eyes stayed glued to him, as I studied his features. When they sat next to each other, no one could deny they shared a womb once. Both exuded an aura of dominance and danger. They both shared tanned skin, amber eyes, black hair, and ripped bodies. However, that was where the similarities ended, and the differences began.

Dominic's hair was much longer than Damian's shaggy cut and both his arms had various tattoos on them, along with his neck, and I suspected his back too. His long, dark lashes looked almost out of place on his hard-as-granite face. His mouth stayed constantly in the same position. I didn't think he smiled much, but then what the hell did I know about his current life? Damian smiled only when he was in my or Kristina's presence. My eyes traveled back to my love, and I noticed his eyes stayed focused on me, and some dark and unexplained expression marred his face, but it was impossible to ask him about it now.

"Yeah." I didn't know what else to say when Connor spoke; at least he broke the silence. Since we had entered the house, both brothers stayed quiet and didn't utter a word to us or each other. Maybe it was time to start? I faced Dominic, and said softly, "Thank you for helping us. We couldn't have done it without you." Unfortunately, after my words, both of them tensed, and Connor raised his brow at me and shook his head. Damian's hand tightened on the glass he was holding, and anger flashed through his eyes. Why did thanking Dominic make him furious? I understood his anger toward them because of Kristina, but we both would've died if Dom hadn't shown up.

"No need," Dominic finally replied, his voice gruff and husky. Even his voice was void of any emotion, and I wondered if anything in this world awoke feelings inside him. This wasn't the warm reunion I expected ever since I'd learned the truth. Who wouldn't be happy to get such news, right?

Suddenly, Damian rose swiftly, threw the glass on the carpet so it wouldn't wake up Kristina, and directed his barely-contained fury at Dominic.

"All those years you were fucking alive and didn't bother to let me know?" His voice was biting, hoarse, and louder than usual. He shouldn't strain his voice like that, but calming him down now was impossible. "Years of me crying for you, grieving for you, avenging you, and you were fucking alive, living your life? Fuck you, Dominic. You won't hear a thank you from me," he finished.

Then Dominic rose quickly too, and they faced each other while my and Connor's heads were moving from one brother to the other.

"Really? You got everything, and I was left with nothing. While you were given our legacy, I had to live on the streets and beg for food. Until I stole from the crime lord and had to pay for it dearly. You don't steal from Bratva. Guess where? In fucking Russia. So, no, Damian, fuck you!" he shouted, and I ran to check on Kristina, who was still asleep. I covered her more firmly with a blanket so she wouldn't awaken from the screams.

"You could have come to me. You always had a choice!"

Dominic's bitter laughter echoed in the room, freezing my bones and making my heart ache for the small boy he used to be.

"Choice? What choice, Damian? Unfortunately, I didn't die from that knife wound, so they did a half-assed job of fixing me and then fucked me for one more year until they couldn't ignore my grown-up body anymore." Damian's head reeled back, his face stricken with the information, and I gasped. No! He stayed in that horrible place with my father? I swallowed the bile in my throat from the guilt. "Yeah, I was a whore a bit longer than you. Then they decided to kill me but imagine this: Tim took pity on me. He threw me away on the streets, thinking I'd die, and I probably would have if it weren't for a homeless man who shared his food and shelter with me. Then it was two long years on the streets. I stole and begged." Dominic breathed heavily, clearly reliving all the awful years he spent on the streets.

"Maybe we should leave you guys alone and—" I started, but Damian interrupted me.