E L E V E N : B A S T A R D

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A/N: Juicy details ahead and learn who this mystery man is.

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E L E V E N : B A S T A R D

The greatest deception men suffer is from their own opinions—Leonardo da Vinci

K A T A R I N A

I am still feeling a rush of adrenaline as Dante and Jax run out the front door and towards the danger that threatened us outside. I only heard a few words from Dante before he kissed me goodbye. Stay hidden, be safe.

Slowly I stand up and pace the wooden floors of the old homes living room. I walk up to the fireplace and place my forehead against the mantel edge. I'm in the midst of putting everything that happened together in my mind, when I hear the stomp of boots coming through the threshold behind me.

I turn around with relief that Dante is back when I'm caught off guard by a man I've never met before standing in front of me. He's taller than Dante, darker skin than mine, short black faded hair, and dark mischievous eyes. Dressed in all black from head to toe, he's even sporting a long black trench coat.

Stepping back, so I'm leaning against the fireplace, he looks over my body with his dark eyes, making me feel uncomfortable as he presents me with a devilish grin. I'm filled with disgust by this stranger and glare at him.

"Who the hell are you and quit staring at me like that you pervert," I demand.

He scoffs in amusement and rolls his eyes, it only fuels my anger. I step forward and square my shoulders at him, showing him I'm not afraid of him.

"You can fuck off, get out of my house," I threaten and he grins with satisfaction. He's enjoying my aggravation.

"First off, this is just as much my house as yours," he snarls with an accent similar to Dante's and throws me off guard, his house? "And second, is that anyway to talk to your big brother?" he glares back at me amusingly.

I audibly gasp at his statement, my brother? This can't be true. If I had an older brother, why am I just now hearing about it?

"You're lying. I don't have a brother. I am my parents only child."

"Yes, you are. But we share the same paternal parent, our dear father, Thomas Fitzgerald," he mutters with disgust in saying my father's name.

"There's no way this is true," I continue glaring in disbelief. Could it be? But if so why didn't anyone tell me? Father Samuel or Lucius would've, wouldn't they?

"Whether you believe me or not, it's true, we're siblings. I can tell by your confusion, that no ones informed you of this. Either dear old Dad never told them, or you've been lied to, probably the latter," he grins.

"No, Father Samuel wouldn't have lied to me," I protest and step closer.

"Oh really? My goodness you're oblivious little sister. He lied to you about who you were and who your parents were for over twenty years," he makes his point. He is right, but over something like this, he would've told me.

"Wait, if you are my brother, why are you now showing up? Where have you been the last twenty-one years?"

He is taken aback and opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Pacing back and forth he runs his hand over his head in frustration.

"Why did I not show up before now?" he stops and stares at me, with a sympathetic, pleading expression. "Because I didn't know you even existed until a few years ago, believing you to be dead. Then I couldn't even find you when I found out you were still alive, it's like you no longer existed. When I finally found you—after finding out your last name was changed—those damn demons got in the way of us meeting finally," he growls in frustration.

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