Chapter 4 - THE BRUTAL AWAKENING
The silence in the room was absolute. You could hear the hum of the refrigerator in the distance. Roberto’s guests looked back and forth between us, sensing the sudden, violent shift in the atmosphere, slowly backing away toward the exits.
"Surprise, brother," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet like a rusted blade. I took a slow, deliberate step toward him. "I decided to come home early. And I must say, you threw quite a party to welcome me."
Roberto swallowed hard, his throat bobbing as he tried to claw his way back to his usual arrogant composure. He forced a sickly, nervous laugh, holding up his hands. "Now, hold on, little brother. There’s been a... a misunderstanding. I didn't know you were coming back. If I had known—"
"If you had known, you would have hidden the garbage cans better?" I roared, the calm facade finally shattering as a primal scream tore from my throat.
I lunged forward across the room before anyone could blink. I grabbed Roberto by the collar of his expensive linen shirt, lifting him onto his tiptoes with the raw, explosive strength born of three years hauling heavy machinery through violent ocean storms. He gasped, his hands flying up to claw at my wrists, but I didn't loosen my grip.
"Gabriel, stop! Security!" Roberto choked out, kicking his feet in panic as his new girlfriend screamed and dropped her champagne glass.
Two burly men in black suits rushed out from the hallway, their hands diving inside their jackets toward their holsters. But they didn't know who I was. And more importantly, they didn't know the house.
Before they could draw their weapons, I used Roberto’s body as a battering ram, slamming him backward into the glass coffee table. It shattered into a million glittering pieces under the combined weight, sending liquor bottles and crystal ashtrays flying everywhere. Roberto screamed in agony as shards cut into his back.
"Touch your gun, and I’ll break his neck right here on this floor," I snarled, glaring at the two guards with eyes so bloodshot and crazed they instantly froze, their hands hovering nervously over their holsters.
"Boss... boss, what do we do?" one guard stammered.
"Stay back!" Roberto shrieked, spitting blood from a split lip. "Don't shoot him! Just get him off me!"
I leaned down close to my brother’s face, my chest heaving, my breath hot against his ear. "Three years, Roberto. Three hundred and sixty-five thousand pesos sent every single month. A multi-million-dollar house built with my sweat. And you left my wife and son to starve behind the garage, picking through rotting meat like stray dogs."
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"I... I can explain," Roberto sobbed, his arrogance completely melted into pathetic cowardice. "The market crashed! The contractors were expensive! I had to protect my assets—"
"Your assets?" I grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to look up at the vaulted ceiling of the mansion. "This house is mine. Every brick, every tile, every wire. And starting tonight, you’re going to learn what it means to have absolutely nothing."
