Chapter 79: "Brothers of Betrayal" ## POV: Dante

\# CHAPTER 79 – "Brothers of Betrayal"

\## POV: Dante

Takes me six hours to find Raphael.

Six hours of hunting through every safe house and contact we ever shared. Six hours of following breadcrumbs left by a kid who used to be family but turned into something else. Something that sells out blood for promises of power.

Find him holed up in an abandoned warehouse on the docks. Same place where we used to hide stolen cars when we were teenagers. Back when we were brothers instead of enemies. Back when I thought blood meant something.

He's waiting for me. Sitting on a crate in the middle of the empty space like he's holding court. Gun on his lap but not pointed at me yet. Kid always had more balls than brains.

"Took you long enough," he says when I walk in.

"Traffic was a bitch."

"That supposed to be funny?"

"Nothing about this is funny."

I stop about twenty feet away. Close enough to talk. Far enough to react if he decides shooting me is easier than explaining himself.

"Why?" I ask.

"Why what?"

"Don't play stupid. Why did you sell us out? Why did you help Marco turn those kids into weapons? Why did you betray everything we built?"

"Because what we built wasn't worth keeping."

"It kept us alive. Kept us fed. Gave us purpose."

"Gave you purpose. I was just your little brother tagging along. Never got to make real decisions. Never got treated like an equal."

"You were equal. You were family."

"I was your employee. Your responsibility. Your burden to carry around because blood is thicker than water."

He stands up. Gun still in his hand but still not aimed. We're dancing around the real fight. Both of us knowing how this ends but neither wanting to pull the trigger first.

"Marco offered me something different," he continues. "Partnership. Real partnership. Not just being the boss's brother forever."

"And what did he want in return?"

"Information. Access. Your head on a platter when the time came."

"So you gave it to him."

"I gave him what he needed to win. Because winning matters more than sentiment."

"What about loyalty?"

"What about it? You loyal to me? Or you loyal to the idea of me? The version of me that does what you want without asking questions?"

That hits closer to home than I want to admit. Because maybe he's right. Maybe I did treat him like an employee instead of a brother. Maybe I made decisions for him instead of with him.

But that don't excuse what he did.

"Those kids at the bunker. You knew what Marco was doing to them."

"I knew he was making them stronger. Making them better than what they were."

"He was torturing them."

"He was upgrading them. Giving them abilities their parents never dreamed of."

"By sticking needles in their brains and pumping them full of drugs."

"By unlocking potential. By creating the next generation of leaders."

"Leaders who follow orders without question. Soldiers who don't care about right or wrong."

"Soldiers who win wars instead of losing them."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. This is my brother. Kid I raised from nothing. Kid I protected and provided for and loved like my own son.

And he's defending child torture like it's a business decision.

"What happened to you?"

"I grew up. Figured out that being nice don't win wars. That caring about people makes you weak. That family is just another word for liability."

"Is that what Marco taught you?"

"Marco taught me that power is the only currency that matters. Everything else is sentiment. Everything else gets you killed."

"Power without purpose is just destruction."

"Maybe. But destruction with purpose is revolution."

He raises the gun. Finally decides talking time is over. But he's too slow. Been out of practice while playing politics instead of fighting wars.

I'm on him before he can aim properly. Tackle him back into the crate he was sitting on. Wood splinters. Gun goes flying. Now it's just fists and fury and twenty years of brotherhood gone wrong.

He fights dirty. Always did. Tries to go for my eyes. My throat. Anything that might end the fight quick. But he's gotten soft working behind desks instead of on the streets.

I pin him down and start throwing punches. Each one carrying years of disappointment and betrayal and grief for the brother I thought I knew.

"You sold out kids," I snarl between hits. "Innocent kids who never hurt nobody."

"They weren't innocent," he gasps. Blood running from his nose. "They were weapons waiting to be activated."

"They were children."

"They were tools. Just like you. Just like me. Just like everyone else in this game."

I hit him again. Harder. Something cracks. Might be his jaw. Might be his cheekbone. Don't care which.

"What about Eve's baby? What about Michael? Was he just a tool too?"

"Especially him. Kid's got Romano blood. Got potential like nothing we ever seen. Marco wanted to train him from birth. Turn him into something special."

"Train him into what?"

"The perfect leader. Smart enough to plan. Strong enough to fight. Ruthless enough to win."

"By taking him away from his mother."

"By giving him better teachers. Teachers who understand that sentiment kills more leaders than bullets ever have."

I could kill him. Should kill him. Kid betrayed everything we stand for. Sold out innocent people. Helped torture children. Put my family in danger.

But I can't.

Blood is blood. Even poisoned blood. Even blood that's chosen the wrong side.

I get off him and back away. He stays down. Smart choice.

"You're done," I tell him. "Done with the family. Done with the organization. Done pretending to be my brother."

"And if I refuse to stay gone?"

"Then next time I won't stop hitting."

"You should kill me now. You know I'll come back. You know I'll try again."

"Maybe. But that's future Dante's problem."

"Sentiment's gonna get you killed."

"Maybe. But it's what separates me from monsters like Marco. Like you."

I turn to leave. Big mistake.

He comes at me with a broken piece of crate. Sharp end aimed at my back. Kid never did know when to quit.

I spin and catch his wrist. Twist until he drops the makeshift weapon. Then I do what I should have done from the beginning.

I break his arm.

Clean snap. Bone goes one way. Joint goes the other. He screams and falls to his knees.

"That's for the kids in the bunker," I tell him. "This is for my family."

I break his other arm.

He's crying now. Not from pain. From something deeper. Something that might be regret but probably ain't.

"I loved you," I say. "Loved you like a son. Like the brother I never had. Would have died for you."

"I know."

"Then why?"

"Because love ain't enough. Because good intentions don't win wars. Because Marco promised me a crown and you only ever offered me a cage."

"The cage was protection."

"The cage was prison."

Maybe he's right. Maybe I did hold him back without meaning to. Maybe I protected him so much I never let him grow up.

But that don't excuse what he became.

"Goodbye Raphael."

"This ain't over."

"Yeah it is. You just don't know it yet."

I leave him there. Broken and bleeding and probably planning his next betrayal. Should put a bullet in his head. Should make sure he can't hurt anyone else.

But I can't kill family. Even family that ain't family anymore.

Drive home through streets that look different now. Darker. More dangerous. Like the whole city shifted while I was gone. Like something fundamental changed and I missed it happening.

Eve's waiting when I get back. Takes one look at my face and knows.

"How bad?"

"Bad. He's working for Marco willingly. Believes everything he's doing is right."

"And?"

"And he'll be back. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But he'll be back."

"You should have killed him."

"Maybe."

"Definitely. Mercy towards enemies gets good people killed."

"He wasn't my enemy. He was my brother."

"Was. Past tense. What is he now?"

I think about that. About the kid I raised and the man he became. About the choices that led us here and the choices still to come.

"Now he's a problem. A dangerous problem that knows all our weaknesses."

"And problems get solved."

"Yeah. But not by me. Not anymore."

"Someone else will have to do it."

"Someone else will have to live with it."

Eve kisses my forehead. "You did the right thing."

"Did I? Or did I just condemn more innocent people to suffer because I couldn't do what needed doing?"

"You stayed human. In a world that rewards monsters you stayed human."

"Maybe being human is a luxury we can't afford."

"Maybe. But it's the only thing that makes winning worth the cost."

I hold her close and try to believe that. Try to convince myself that mercy is strength instead of weakness. That keeping my soul matters more than keeping everyone safe.

But looking at my wife and thinking about my son I can't shake the feeling that sentiment's gonna get us all killed.

That Raphael was right about one thing.

Love ain't enough when monsters are willing to do whatever it takes to win.