Hope

Hope
I stroke my six-month belly, lying on Emily’s bed as we watch a movie together while Michael, Matthew, and Daniel work in the office upstairs. They promised to take us out over an hour ago. I don’t know what problem they’re solving, but it’s kept the three of them busy.

“Your belly looks so beautiful,” Emily says, full of affection for her nephew. “Auntie already loves this little one so much.” She lifts my shirt, kissing my skin.

I smile happily to have her by my side. Emily has been helping me with absolutely everything, even dealing with my mother, who will be a very doting grandmother. She has spoiled the baby so much with gifts that I’m running out of space in the little one’s room. The past few months have been completely calm, with no enemy attacks—as far as I know—and no disturbances in the mansion.

Now that Andrew spends more time outside the mansion, Emily has found peace, and I no longer get annoyed by that despicable man. My pregnancy is going perfectly; my little Ethan is growing as expected, only 500 grams above the ideal weight—it’s hard to resist the foods Michael brings me.

Yesterday I woke up craving açaí, something I had never eaten before, but after watching a Brazilian movie where the protagonists ate it, the desire hit me in the middle of the night. My husband spent two hours searching the city until he found it for me. I devoured a liter of açaí, very happy.

“Tell me again what Ethan means,” Emily asks, touching where the baby kicks.
“It means he will be strong, resilient, and enduring. Michael Bianchi’s first heir must have a name to match—our miracle after everything we’ve been through, our Ethan.”

Although I trust Emily, she doesn’t know the truth about my origins—and she never will. The secret of my family belongs only to those who lived through the tragedy and to Michael, my partner. My children will never know or live in fear of their own shadow.

Ethan kicks my bladder, and I scream in panic, running to the bathroom before peeing my pants. Emily, who’s already used to my bathroom dashes, laughs. As the little football player grows, he seems to love playing tricks on mommy, making me almost pee in public.

I lock the door, greeted by silence. I empty my bladder, wash my hands, turn the doorknob—and a scream. I open the door to see Emily curled up on the bed while Andrew stands over her, his penis erect, urinating on my friend. He laughs like a lunatic. I grab the chair in front of the desk and hit him on the back; the bastard falls to the floor.

“Emily!” I grab her, pulling her body against mine. “Michael!” I scream for my husband.

He won’t hear me—he’s on the third floor, locked in the office. Emily leans on me, stunned, wobbling off the bed. The bathroom! I struggle to pull her toward it, but my body is yanked back. I scream as my hip hits the floor. Panic surges—I think of Ethan, I can’t hurt him. I place my hand on my belly; no pain.

“Let me go, damn it!” Emily screams.

I turn and see Andrew pulling her by the hair, dragging her across the bedroom floor. I need to be careful not to hurt Ethan, but I can’t let this monster keep hurting Emily. I rise, a sharp pain in my leg making me falter, stumble to the nightstand, grab my phone, and call Michael while searching for anything to throw at this bastard. His focus isn’t on me—only on her.

“Hi…” he answers.
“Andrew is going to kill Emily! We’re in the bedroom—come now!”

I don’t wait for Michael’s response; I use my phone to strike Andrew’s head. The bastard pins Emily against the wall, grabbing her neck and suffocating her. She scratches his face, kicks, but it’s useless. I hit the center of his head again with the phone; blood sprays, but the despicable bastard doesn’t stop hurting her.

“Let go!” I scream, tears of rage and fear blurring my vision. “Don’t hurt her, please, stop it! Michael, Michael!” I call for him frantically as my friend is dying before me.

“I should have killed you before, you slut,” he says, pulling her body and slamming her against the wall. “You look just like your mother. I hate you so much for reminding me of her.”
“I… hate… you,” Emily chokes out, her eyes rolling back in her sockets.
“Michael!” I scream, my throat hurting.

Despair consumes me as Emily’s face turns red as a tomato. I grab his hand, trying to pull it, scratching a piece of his skin with my nail—but nothing works. His eyes are glazed over with sharp hatred, locked on Emily.

A crash comes from the bedroom door. Michael bursts in like a rocket. Behind him, Matthew and Daniel rush in, frantic. I step back from Andrew, letting the men handle it, while a pain radiates through my spine. I lean on the wall, trying to keep my breathing steady.

“I’m going to kill you, bastard!” Michael shouts.
“Let her go, you son of a—!” Matthew yells.
“Emily, don’t close your eyes!” Daniel pleads desperately.

Michael locks Andrew in an armbar while Matthew and Daniel hold his arms, pulling him away from Emily. She collapses to the floor like a sack of potatoes. I hobble to her, kneeling beside her. I can’t feel her breathing.

“She’s not breathing!” I scream, my face soaked in tears of despair for my friend.

Daniel locks her arms, placing his hands over her heart to start CPR. He pinches her nose, seals their mouths, giving her mechanical breaths. I hold her pulse, nearly nonexistent. I search for my husband, whose hands are firm around Andrew’s neck. He won’t see anything around him—he’ll kill the man if this keeps up.

“Come on, Milly, resist!” Matthew urges, tears in his eyes, stroking his sister’s hair.
“You can’t do this to us,” Daniel pleads.

I feel Emily’s pulse strengthen. Daniel continues his work; she coughs, regaining her breath. The pressure on my lower back eases when I see her okay, though my thigh is burning. I pull Emily against my chest, breathing a sigh of relief that she’s back with us.



Michael

I was just a few steps away from making Andrew disappear for good, but once again the bastard acted first.

When Hope called me, telling me what was happening, I felt my soul leaving my body. I ran like a madman to Emily’s room—seeing Andrew choking her while Hope tried to free her unsuccessfully unlocked every limit I had. I need to kill this bastard.

I grab his body, throw him to the floor, punch his damn face. He laughs at me. I climb onto his stomach and lock my hands around his neck.

“You’re going to die, you bastard.” I spit in his face. “I had long plans for torturing you, but that’s enough—you will never hurt Emily again.”
“That’s right,” he says, muffled. “Kill me—you’re the only one who can.”
“Shut up, damn it!” I scream in his face.

I divert my attention from his face, now turning purple as I strangle him, and look at my sister, her cheeks pink against Hope’s chest. Her body is wet as she cries, her gaze meeting mine. She crawls toward me, hate written across her features. I’ve never seen her so angry.

“Get out,” she rasps.
“What?” I don’t understand what she wants.
“He can’t end like this.” Andrew’s eyes flash red; a smile spreads across the bastard’s face. “This is what he always wanted—you to kill him.”
“If you continue, you’ll give him what he wants,” Matthew says, holding my arm. “He doesn’t deserve a quick death after what he did to our mother and to us,” he growls, tears of rage running down his face.
“This revenge isn’t just yours,” Emily slaps my shoulder, crying. “It’s mine and Matthew’s too!”

“We won’t have another chance like this,” I press harder on his neck. “It has to be now.”
“If he dies here,” Daniel says, “the council will demand an explanation, and you know saving Emily won’t be a good enough reason.”
“I don’t care about anything else. I won’t let go of his neck.”

Andrew’s face starts to distort, his mouth twisting to the left as his body convulses with strong muscle spasms.

“He’s having a stroke,” Hope comes closer, grimacing as she holds her thigh. “The crooked face, the tremors—they’re stroke symptoms. If you let him go and he’s taken to a hospital, I can make sure he’s permanently debilitated. You can have your revenge slowly.”
“How?” I feel his life slipping through my fingers. I don’t want to let go, I can’t risk it.
“Delayed care during a stroke leaves aftereffects. If we keep him bedridden and pretend he has diabetes or another disease with ulcers that damage the body—sometimes requiring amputations—you could do whatever you want with his body. I’d make sure he doesn’t die.”
“We’d have our revenge,” Emily grits her teeth. “He peed on me, that filthy pig! You can’t deny me that, Michael.”
“We also deserve to make him suffer,” Matthew says, holding my arm.

I look at my siblings. We suffered together at Andrew’s hands; we were each other’s strength. I can’t be selfish—it wasn’t only me who suffered and wants revenge. I look at my wife; she nods. Even with my body burning to kill him, I release his neck. His body shakes violently on the bedroom floor.

“You’re ours,” Emily says with a sinister smile, tears running down her cheeks. I fear what this will do to my sister.
“Call an ambulance,” Hope orders.
“Can’t we let him suffer a little more?” Matthew asks.
“If he continues, he’ll die.”

I stand, watching his suffering from above. Hope grimaces again, hands on her back. I go to her side, picking her up in my arms. She tries to smile but bends forward; I hold her firmly. Daniel calls an ambulance. I watch the bastard’s body suffer—he’s turning darker and darker, maybe I won’t even need to kill him with my own hands.

Andrew spent his life saying I would be the one to kill him, even feeling happy and accomplished at that thought. Nothing would torment his soul more than knowing he didn’t die by my hands. Maybe Matthew will do it—he deserves the chance for revenge too.

“Come with me, Emily,” Hope calls, taking her hand, and they walk to the bathroom. I notice her leaning left, so I follow.

“Did you get hurt?” I ask her.
“I fell, but it’s just my leg and lower back that hurt,” she grimaces. “I’ll go to the hospital, let me give Emily a bath first.”
“No,” Emily says firmly. “Go to the hospital now—my nephew couldn’t have suffered any damage because of that monster. I’ll bathe myself and meet you there.”
“I can’t leave you alone,” Hope holds her hand gently, as if Emily could break at any moment.
“She won’t be alone,” Daniel says, holding my sister by the shoulders. “I’ll make sure of that. Go to the hospital; I’ll handle everything here.”

I hear footsteps on the stairs; soldiers enter with the complex’s doctor, followed by paramedics with a stretcher. They attend to Andrew, with Matthew accompanying. I go with my wife in the car. For now, she only complains of leg and lower back pain, but I worry about the baby.

At the hospital, a team waits for us. I hold Hope’s hand as she’s taken to the obstetrician’s room.

“In the emergency room, they said you fell and are in pain,” the doctor begins.
“Yes, I was with my sister-in-law when I slipped in her room, and we fell,” Hope puts on a hospital gown. “But it’s just my leg and lower back; I don’t feel anything with Ethan.”
“Do all the tests,” I order.
“We’ll start by listening to the heart and checking on Ethan. Before daddy kills the obstetrician,” she smiles awkwardly at Hope.

It’s inconvenient using doctors outside the complex, but the ones we have aren’t specialized in women’s health. My wife was right when she spoke about the organization needing female specialists. I won’t stop with Hope—I have plans for Emily and other girls to go to college; they’ll still be very important.

The sound of our boy’s heartbeat fills the room, and the image on the screen shows he’s fine. The doctor continues checking Hope, and in the end, the diagnosis is a minor inflammation in her lower back from the fall and a bruise on her thigh. For safety, we stay at the hospital overnight.

“Aren’t you going to find out how Andrew is?” she asks, intertwining our fingers.

I smell her hair, trying to calm the demons in my chest screaming to kill Andrew. I shouldn’t have let him continue breathing, but now that I have, I’ll make it worth it. He will never have a single day of peace; his body will suffer enough to destroy his soul and mind. I took everything from him, and now I’ll take the rest of his soul and pride.

“Matthew will take care of him; I’m more worried about Emily,” I say, grabbing my phone to call Daniel. “How’s my sister?” I ask when he answers.
“She’s fine. She wants to visit Hope—should I take her?”
“You can bring her, but don’t leave her alone.”
“I wouldn’t, even if you ordered me to.”
“When you say things like that, I believe you want to marry her.”
“I don’t.”

He hangs up, knowing I’ll keep insisting. I’m almost going to have to force Daniel to marry Emily. He may think it’s bad for her, but moments like this make me sure he would never hurt her.

“We need to make these two end up together,” Hope says, yawning, snuggling against my chest.
“Sleep a little.”
“You still have to take me to dinner.”
“I forgot. I’ll have it brought. What do you want to eat?”
“A burger and a hot dog, with mint ice cream and avocado smoothie.”
“You want every weird combination,” I wrinkle my nose.
“It’s Ethan—blame him.”
“You always say that.” I stroke her belly; my boy kicks my hand.

I smile, savoring the moment: my wife in my arms, feeling my boy kicking, filled with love, peace, and a sublime sense of happiness. Hope will continue being the most untouchable woman in the world—only I have her for myself.