3rd POV.
Borelli Industries was one of the biggest technological companies in the world. They had held their place in the evergrowing industry for decades, continuously growing and developing the world around them. They were a true pioneer of coding and computer services, reaching their influence over the continents with every right decision they made.
Eduardo Borrelli, the founder of Borrelli Industries, was a brilliant man. He was a cold, calculating, genius, who started his business at the young age of seventeen. He rose through the social ranks from a poor immigrant to one of the well known faces in his field in just a few years. He was soon known as a scary businessman, who woulnd't even flinch while firing his best friends.
At twenty years old, Eduardo married Bianca, a beautyful nurse, who melted his heart. Two years later their son Alessandro was born. After their first child, they had five more, Lorenzo, Matteo, Antonio, Gabriele, and Serena.
Soon after the birth of their sixth child, the relationship between Eduardo and Bianca started to get colder. Bianca was caught having an affair, which enraged Eduardo, but he was still willing to stay together for their children and the public appearance their family had. Eduardo really did care about his children, sadly he wasn't good at communicating that to them.
Serena was loved by all her brothers and was on her way to becoming their little princess. Alessandro was ten when his little sister was born, and immediately, he became an overprotective older brother. Even Gabriele, who was just two, loved to play with his sister and even slept next to her most nights.
That blissful happiness only lasted for a few months, before Bianca disappeared with her youngest child in hand. She left with money, the light of her family's life, and the man she was sleeping with and disappeared without a trace.
With no other option, Bianca and Serena were pronounced dead seven years after their disappearance, closing the investigation once and for all. Eduardo still kept on searching through private investigators and connections he had around the world, but found nothing. It was like they had disappeared into thin air.
Eight years after the disappearance of his only daughter, Eduardo Borrelli died in a shooting, leaving his oldest son, Alessandro, as the head of the company. The brothers were devastated but over time learned to move on. Their father was never the openly loving kind, and after their mother left, Alessandro and Lorenzo were left to care for their brothers.
It was almost two in the morning but Alessandro was still working in his huge office. The walls were littered with books, paintings, and the ocational liquor cabinets skillfully hidden in the walls. One of the paintings was of his father, staring down at him with his judging eyes, almost as if he was still telling him how he was doing things wrong. Especially on that day, Alessandro wanted nothing more, than to rip the painting from its place and throw it out of the window.
Alessandro was woken from his thought to the distant sound of his phone ringing in that perfectly annoying pitch. That night, everything annoyed him to the point where he was ready to explode in the face of the next person he spoke to. Lucky for him, that person would be his best friend and the COO of Borelli industried.
"What do you want?" Alessandro huffed in a voice that would have frozen a volcano.
"Just wondering, if you wanted to grab a drink?" Dimitri asked so innocently, Alossandro could feel the steam rising from his ears.
"You dipshit really called me at two in the morning to come to a bar with you?" Alessandro said in a bored tone somehow too tired to stay angry at the man, he had known for years.
"Yeah, it's Friday, and I knew you were still working, so I decided to call you," Dimitri said clearly wasted.
"You are drunk out of your mind. Do I need to send a car for you, or can you make it home yourself?" Alessandro concluded in a final tone.
"Chill, I can take care of myself. Just wondered if you had miraculously decided to become fun. Clearly not, so I'll be going, I saw a hot guy at the bar," Dimitri said, the smile obvious from his voice.
Alessandro didn't even say anything, he just ended the call and rolled his eyes. He pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed. Dimitri was a good guy and great at what he did, but he could be a real dick sometimes. Especially as that was the night Bianca had left, exactly sixteen years earlier, and he knew it. Maybe that was his sick way of trying to cheer Alessandro up, but it really didn't work.
Alessandro didn't care to mourn over what happened sixteen years earlier, but every year on that day, he felt something missing. He knew what it was, but decided to ignore it for as long as he could. His mother wasn't a good person, but his little sister was just a baby, when their mother took her away from her family.
Alessandro dragged his hands down his face, steeaching his skin as he went on. Maybe he should go home already, finish up later and have a good nights sleep. On the other hand, he knew, he woulnd't be sleeping that night either way, so he just poured himself another drink and continued to work. Maybe that way he could drown out the thoughts he usually pushed away so easily.
Just like Alessandro, the other Borrelli brothers were working to escape their emotions that night. Lorenzo had taken extra shifts at the hospital, Matteo was working his ass off with a program, that just wouldn't work, no matter, how hard he tried, and Gabriele was in his room painting again.
Gabriele was the only artistic mind in the family, and sometimes, the brothers joked, that he was adopted. That night, he was finishing up a painting he was really proud of.
It was of a distorted face, that carried many emotions at once. It was a lot like some of Picasso's work, but even Gabriele couldn't understand that man's paintings, so it was a bit simpler.
The painting took so long since, in a way, he didn't want to finish it, he never did. His room was filled with unfinished works, he thought he would finish someday but never got around to it. There was always something so final about that last stroke, that he never wanted to do it.
While his brothers were hard at work, Antonio was far from home. He was at the heart of New York City, a thirty-minute car ride, from his brothers, drinking at a nightclub. He had sworn off drugs after his last visit to rehab, but that night was the only exception. That was the rule he made for himself when he quit.
Antonio was high off his mind, dancing, with some girl, he didn't know, in a place he didn't know of until a few hours ago. His friend's brother worked as a bartender there, so he got them in and sold them drinks without asking for IDs. Antonio never told his friends, why that one night was different, but the didn't dar to question it, knowing how angry the boy could get.
Antonio worked hard with business school. He was a lot smarter, than he let on even to his brothers, and was at the top of his class even tho he skipped many of them. Work hard, play hard, that was Antonio's life. He studied a lot and worked harder than anyone could ever imagine from him, but outside school, he was an aggressive party animal, who always got what he wanted. People had learned to respect him, and if not respect, then at least fear him.
Eli POV
I got back from work at ten, and twisted the key to my sad little studio on the second floor of an old apartment building. Once again, I had worked fourteen hours straight at that godforsaken construction site. It was a shitty job, but the places that would pay someone under the table were really hard to find. Even at that fucking place I didn't get paid for all the work I did, for it was under-the-table money.
I tiredly kicked my shoes to the corner and threw my worn out jacket over the small table, the keys in my pockets hitting the metal surface. I didn't even care about the sound probably echoing through the whole building as I slowly stepped to the corner, I called my kitchen.
I emptied my pockets onto the kitchen counter and grabbed an apple from the fridge scrolling through my phone as I did so. I was ready to collapse, falling onto my bed as I pressed the call button out of muscle memory. I hadn't even though about calling him, or if I was too tired to. Those thoughts only surfacing as the phone was already ringing in that annoyingly monotone sound. It ran a few times before I saw the familiar dark curls.
"Hi Diego," I greeted utterly exhausted from my shift.
"Hey, El. You're looking dead as ever," the twelve-year-old answered with a smirk.
"Haha thank you very much," I said rolling my eyes.
"You know you should be nicer to me. I just sent you more money," I continued with a smile.
"Yeah, I got it thanks. How was your day?" Diego said now with a overly nice smile. I chuckled at the kid and tried to figure out what to say.
"My boss sucks ass. Once again, he gave me extra work and assumed I would just do it and still keep up with everything. Of course I did it, since I have to, but even then he won't pay me for those shifts I was telling you about," I complained leaving out a few parts of him being an asshole, since I didn't want my little brother to be more concerned, than he already was.
This was our ritual. Almost every day we called each other just to check up. Sometimes we'd just leave the call on as we went on with our lives, just so we could be there for each other. I started sending Diego money as soon as I got a job over a year ago, and even put some aside so he could maybe one day have a chance at an education. He was a smart kid, he just wasn't born with a lot.
"Anyway, how was your day?" I asked rolling onto my side as I held back a yawn.
"I actually heard some good news!" Diego sang with a huge smile as his eyes shot wide with excitement. It was like he had just remembered I just shot him a questioning look.
"El, they're dead."
For a few seconds my brain was running on empty, before I caught up with reality once again.
"You for real?" I asked wanting to be sure before I reacted.
"Yeah! They were in a car accident. Everyone's talking about it," Diego said more seriously as he was trying to convince me he was telling the truth.
"Look I sent you some articles," he continued after a brief pause.
My eyes wandered over the text I had just received. 'Pastor Frank Jones and his wife Bianca died in a drunk driving accident' As the words carved into my brain, one fraise brightened and brightened by the second.
"Holy shit," I mumbled staring off into space.
"I know!" Diego yelled practically jumping up and down.
"Holy shitting fuck I'm fucking free bitch!" I screamed right before the second wave hit me.
What would it mean? Could I go back? I'd go into a foster home. What if they're even worse? I could go back and look after Diego. What if they weren't really dead? What if I'd go back and they'd be there waiting with those sick smiles?
"Talk to me, El," Diego's voice snapped me out of my increasingly dark thoughts.
"Are you coming home?" he asked with a hint of hope in his eyes.
I really didn't want to crush that small smile tugging at the end of his lips, but I really didn't know what to do.
"I don't know, D," I said placing the phone on the table in front of me. I buried my head in my hands, as I tried to process the information waves hitting me one by one.
"Why not?" Diego argued.
I let out a huge sigh trying my best to gather up an answer. This was all I had been hoping for, for the longest time, but I had no idea what to do.
"You know, if I came back, it wouldn't mean we could be together. They'd put me in a foster home, and there's no saying how far away they'd send me. I'm not using my new freedom to go into another prison," I explained still gathering my thoughts.
There was a long silence on the phone, as Diego tried to think of an answer. We both knew I was right. Foster care was the second-worst thing, that could happen right now. The first one would be, that my parents weren't actually dead and that it would be a trap.
"The reason you left is gone, Eli. Just come back to Chicago, and we'll figure out the next thing together," Diego finally said.
"How many times did you rehearse that?" I joked with a grin.
I had a problem with joking around in serious situations.
"I've had over a year to think about it," Diego said not joining my joke.
"I have to think about it okay?" I said suddenly feeling the exhaustion rushing over me.
"What time is it there?" Diego suddenly asked, seeing my tired face.
"Oh shit, it's like midnight there! Go to sleep you sleep-deprived little bitch. You have work tomorrow," Diego said after checking the time.
I groaned after being reminded of my early alarm.
"I fucking hate waking up at five," I whined bobbing down on the bed.
"Good night bitch," Diego called.
"Good night you whore," I mumbled before falling asleep.