Chapter 293: A Brother’s Deceit

David’s POV

My cheek burned like fire from Holly’s slap, the sting sharp enough to snap me out of whatever trance I’d been in.

The ring box was still clutched in my hand, the diamond glinting under the streetlight like it was mocking me. Holly’s eyes…God, those eyes…were wide and wild, full of disappointment and rage. She backed away a step, chest heaving.

Justin stood there with that infuriating smirk, helmet dangling from his fingers like he’d just shown up to a comedy show.

I shot to my feet, blood roaring in my ears. “What the fuck are you doing here, Justin?”

He tilted his head, grin widening. “Aw, big bro, are you disappointed that I came all this way just to ruin your little game night?”

“Cut the bullshit,” I snarled, stepping toward him. My fists were already balled. “Go home. This doesn’t concern you.”

Justin laughed…short, bitter, loaded. “Doesn’t concern me? You’re out here recycling the same tired proposal crap on yet another clueless girl, and I’m supposed to just ride off into the sunset?” He glanced at Holly, who was wiping her face with shaking hands. “Come on, man. You’re gonna hurt her the same way you hurt everyone else.”

“Shut up,” I warned, voice low. “And leave.”

But he didn’t. He never does.

He took a step closer, eyes locked on mine, that smug look sharpening into something cruel. “You think pulling out a ring fixes everything? Your mother thought promises meant something too. Remember? She wanted dad to be hers alone…wanted him to be the man he swore he’d be. But he failed her, didn’t he? And she was too much of a coward to keep fighting. Took the easy way out. You really wanna drag Holly down that same road? Make her feel so worthless she—”

He dared talk about my late mother like it’s not his mother’s fucking fault?

I didn’t even think. My fist connected with his jaw before the sentence finished. The crack echoed off the buildings.

Justin stumbled back, but he didn’t swing. He just straightened up, touched his mouth, and smiled through the blood already starting to bead.

Holly screamed, “Stop!”

I hit him again…harder…knuckles splitting against his cheekbone. He went down to one knee, but still didn’t fight back. Just took the hits quietly with a little smirk.

Abd I couldn’t bring myself to stop.

Holly was sobbing now, full-body sobs. “David, stop! Please!” She fumbled for her phone, hands trembling so bad she almost dropped it. “Tyler, pick up, pick up…Tyler, please, they’re fighting, come outside—”

No answer.

She lunged between us, shoving at my chest with both hands. “Get off him! Get off!”

I grabbed Justin’s collar, hauling him up for another swing, rage blinding me. One more punch landed…straight to his mouth. His lip split wide, blood gushing down his chin in a thick red line.

That’s when I saw it… the predatory smug curve of his mouth around the blood. The knowing glint in his eye. He wasn’t fighting back because he didn’t have to. He was winning. He wanted me to hit him in front of Holly, and I fell right into it!

Holly pounded on my back with her fists. “Let him go! Let him go, you jerk!”

I released him immediately and he sagged, but Holly caught him before he hit the ground, wrapping her arms around him like he was made of glass.

I staggered back, chest heaving. “Holly…baby, I’m sorry. It’s not like that. He’s lying, he’s always—”

She looked up at me, and the expression on her face stopped my heart cold. Pure horror. Like I was a stranger. Like I was a monster.

Justin coughed, spitting blood onto the pavement. “Told you, Hols,” he rasped, voice thick but steady. “He’s my brother, but he’s no good. Why do you keep fucking around with him? He’ll only destroy you.”

Holly’s voice broke when she spoke. “Fucking leave, David. I don’t want to see you again. Ever.”

The words hit harder than any punch. Real panic clawed up my throat…not the calculated kind I’m used to faking. This was raw, animal terror. She was choosing him. She was picking Justin over me, helping him to his feet, cradling his face while he bled.

Something twisted viciously in my gut. Jealousy. Possession. Mine. She was supposed to be mine.

I reached for her…stupid, desperate…without thinking about it carefully. “Holly, wait—”

Justin’s fist came out of nowhere, slamming into my cheek with surprising force that had me staggering. My head snapped sideways, stars exploding behind my eyes.

I didn’t hit back. Just stood there, tasting blood, watching as Holly looped Justin’s arm over her shoulders and guided him toward her building like he was some broken doll she needed to protect. The door opened as they disappeared inside. It shut with a soft, final click.

I was alone on the driveway, blood dripping from my knuckles and my split lip, the ring box crushed in my fist.

Everything was slipping faster than I could imagine. The plan. Her. Control. All of it.

I don’t know how I made it back to the car. My hands shook so bad I could barely get the key in the ignition. Once inside, I slammed my palms against the steering wheel and screamed.

“Fuck!”

The engine roared to life as I peeled out, tires screeching, driving way too fast through streets I barely saw. Every few blocks I’d punch the dash and yell it again…“Fuck!” like the word could fix anything.

Holly was supposed to be just a pawn. That’s what I kept telling myself. A means to an end. I wasn’t supposed to feel this. Not jealousy like some lovesick teenager because she picked my little brother over me. Not this possessive rage burning through my veins. Not this terror and anger that I might actually lose her for real.

But I did feel it. All of it.

I drove until the city blurred, until I found myself pulling up outside Norman’s house. My best friend. The only person who’s ever stuck around through my messes despite our constant fallouts. I needed a drink. I needed to talk. For once, I needed to open up to someone before I exploded.

I killed the engine and sat there a minute, staring at the porch light. Then I climbed out, legs heavy, and knocked.

Norman opened the door in sweatpants and a faded college tee, eyebrows shooting up when he saw me.

“Jesus, man. You look like the world used you as a tennis ball. What the hell happened to you?”

I exhaled…sharp, shaky as I dropped into the couch. I was beyond exhausted with the entire weight on my shoulders. “Get me a drink first. The strongest you’ve got. Then I’ll talk.”

He didn’t argue. Disappeared inside and came back with a bottle of Macallan 18 and two glasses. Poured heavy into my glass and I downed the first one in two swallows, the burn grounding me a little. Poured another. Downed that too.

Then I started talking.

Everything spilled out…the first mission which he already knew about, but I mentioned how Holly is connected to it. The debt, Rachel, the fake relationship, the new mission, the proposal gone wrong, Justin showing up, the fight, Holly looking at me like I was evil incarnate. All of it. Months of secrets I’d never told a soul.

When I finished, my hands were shaking hard enough the ice in my empty glass rattled. I looked at Norman, voice hoarse. “What the hell do I do, man? I’m losing my mind.”

He sighed, long and heavy, leaning back in his chair and looked at me. “So, Dave, you and Holly have been…”

The TV in the corner cut him off at that point. Breaking news banners flashing red across the screen. A reporter standing outside a building I recognized too well, police lights strobing behind her.

Norman and I locked eyes at the exact same second.

“Fuck,” we said together.