Antihero (Indefinite Hiatus D: )

Chapter Three

The marriage meeting brunch was going outstandingly horrible and, for once, it wasn't all Mira's fault. Mira and her possible-husband-to-be had a past and it didn't seem to be a good one. Mira was glaring darkly at the blonde-haired man sitting directly across from her as she tried to stab her golden fork into a grape on her plate. It didn't go well, and the grape flew across the table to hit her suitor in the eyeball.

"What the hell?!" He yelled, holding a hand to his eye as though she had blinded him. Mira laughed, and I let a little 'pff' slip before DeMarlo glared my way too. Mira stopped laughing and rolled her eyes at the shocked look on Paulo's face. Paulo was the son of a high-ranking government official, Paulie Raghlei, and he was Mira's fourth marriage suitor. 

Paulie Raghlei was the man who asked DeMarlo to stop his evil, supervillain ways for the 'good of the Earth' and he was the one who took DeMarlo's 'pardon all my evil actions' request to the President. Even though DeMarlo was a supervillain, he never wished for Earth to be destroyed or for all humanity to be doomed. It was more of a 'let me do what I want, when I want, and be super rich' sort of thing; if the Earth was destroyed or humanity was doomed then a fuck-tonne of money didn't mean shit.

"Oh, I'm really, terribly sorry, Paulo, is your eye okay?" Mira asked, fluttering her eyelashes and feigning sympathy. Paulo looked unconvinced and DeMarlo looked away, re-joining his conversation with Paulie and his wife, Joanna, who both looked like they wanted to strangle Paulo. Paulo let out a loud sigh and shook his head, lowering his hand from his battered eye.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Mira. Didn't know you hated me that much," he replied, looking at me briefly before shoving a mini quiche into his mouth. 

"Oh, please, Paulo. That was obviously an accident. Besides, why wouldn't I hate you?" She replied sarcastically. I raised my eyebrow at her in question as I picked up a few slices of peach from the fruit platter.

"I take it you two have some history?" My tone was humorous, yet both of them turned their heads to glare at me. They both opened their mouths to protest but both stopped and looked at each other, their eyes just meeting before they looked away from each other in a huff.

"I guess," Mira replied, eyeing Paulo from across the table. Paulo was a good-looking man, Mira's type for sure, with his short blond hair, blue eyes, and Ken-doll tan, he was everything she wasn't. Mira always went for the beachy, happy-go-lucky blokes, as though she was trying to compensate for something she was missing.

"Well, I would love to know more, please, do tell! Paulo, my brother, please do tell," I said, taking a bite out of another peach slice. If Mira was more like our Dad, I was more like Mum. Mira and Dad got through life by threatening everyone, whereas Mum and I managed to talk our way through life by being sociable and possibly annoying. Paulo looked like he thought I was being the latter more than the former, but he sighed and answered me anyway.

"We had a thing at school, but someone decided to end it," he replied curtly, looking a little hurt as he glanced at Mira. 

"Excuse me?" Mira asked, pursing her lips as she looked at him. "You ended it with me!" Her voice cracked slightly as tone rose higher. Paulo looked confused before shaking his head and pointing his finger at her.

"No! You definitely broke up with me," he argued, picking up his own fork and stabbing the poor quiche on his plate of our beautiful china. 

I zoned out, leaving the two arguing love-birds to themselves. As much as Mira acted as though she hated him, I could tell she had a soft spot for good old Paulo and DeMarlo made it pretty clear she was running out of decent options. He loved her enough to try and find a decent husband but with the rate Mira was going, she would be married to some old fart before her twenty-third birthday rolled around. 

My mind wandered back to think about Christopher. I wonder where he slept? Did he feel safe? Did he eat? Where did he bathe? Did he even bathe at all? Were all children born outside like him, starved and dirty? I assumed so, although some did look better off than others. He was obviously dirt poor, homeless, but there were others from outside who looked poor, yet they had a home and food. Christopher literally had no food otherwise he wouldn't be breaking into the richest house in the area with the toughest security.

Why did he break into the richest house if all he was going to do is steal some cereal? Why not just steal food from a house with no security? 

My mind was brought back to the brunch at hand when I heard DeMarlo say my name. Dad had two faces, the dad face and the DeMarlo face and, more often than not, he was the DeMarlo face. I switched between the two depending on his behaviour, since the Dad I loved and the DeMarlo I knew seemed like two different people. I wanted to believe they were, anyway.

"Yes, Michaelson here will take over as head of the DeMarlo business when he is older," he said roughly, his hand clamping down on my shoulder tightly. 

Paulo and Mira were looking at each other, blushing slightly, but had turned to look at me as DeMarlo's voice boomed through the room. Good to see they were now on the same page, no longer blaming one another for their relationship's untimely demise. Unfortunately, now they were both looking at me, Mira with a mixture of pain and sorrow in her eyes and Paulo with a look of pity. Not sure why he pitied me, as he was the one who was engaged to Mira.

Alas, the fate of the first-born male, take on the ownership of the family business. Mira was lucky she came out as a female - or maybe it was my duty as her brother to protect her, even if I was younger. 

"He'll do his job right, don't you worry, Paulie. I've trained him for this since the day he was born. He may act like this, but he's there when it counts." DeMarlo's voice was full of pride, the type of pride that makes you get out of bed and obey orders every day for nineteen years. This was who I am, who I was meant to be. 

Paulie Raghlie looked at me with inquisitive eyes and I turned in my seat to face him. I didn't need to sit straighter, as my posture was already perfect, so instead, I straightened my tie.

DeMarlo removed his hand from my shoulder and looked down proudly at me. I smiled back bravely, my voice clear and calm as I eyed Paulie down with the coldest, deadliest eyes I could.

They were pretty deadly, as I had learned from the best, and even Mira shied away when I used my steely glance on her. I didn't use it much. It didn't really feel like me, but this was what I was born for, had been trained for, what I lived for. Paulie flinched back from my glance slightly, his eyes looking back and forth between DeMarlo and me, his mirror image.

"Don't worry, sir. I will kill every single last one of them. You can count on me."