Mafia King's Brother

one condition

As the early morning sunlight gently caressed Noah's face, waking him out of a deep slumber, he stirred and opened his eyes to the familiar yet worn ceiling. Getting up at once, he strolled his gaze around the surroundings of the old house.

The small, attractive house contained only a single bedroom, a cozy living space, and a modest kitchen tucked away at the side. The furnishings, remnants of a happier past, remained unchanged in his memories, now weathered and worn, echoing the passage of time.

Just the thought of an intruder entering this safe space felt like a nightmare to him. And at that moment he felt nothing much more than those security forces at the border, protecting their border at the cost of their life.

With a heavy heart, he got on his feet and, shortly after, his footsteps echoed through the quiet house as he endeavored to breathe new life into its damaged spaces. Memories of happier times with his parents lingered, providing a bittersweet backdrop to his efforts.

Entering the washroom, however, a sudden and unexpected obstacle disrupted his morning routine. The jammed door abruptly trapped him inside, making anxiety and panic grip him.

The traumatic past when John had locked him in a room while he was small and helpless surfaced his memories. Desperation took hold as he began to bang on the door.

"Let me out! Let me out!" he pleaded, the haunting echoes of past trauma intensifying his sense of vulnerability.

When nothing worked, he gasped for air as he leaned heavily against the door. Just when he was on the verge of passing out, the door swung open abruptly, and he heavily dropped into the warm embrace of someone's arms. Feeling reassuring strength around him, he tried to check who it might be, but he lost consciousness even before doing that.

In a while, when he gradually regained his senses, he found himself locking eyes with a stranger. The stranger’s expression radiated genuine concern and the familiarity in those blue eyes stirred a connection, yet Noah struggled to place the face.

Shaking off the remaining dizziness, he hastily sat up, questioning in a voice tinged with confusion, "Who are you? What are you doing–here?”

Just at the end of his sentence, recognition hit him, and it took no second for his eyes to enlarge in shock. "You're the biker guy from yesterday, aren't you?"

"Oscar! I am Oscar," replied the familiar face. "Are you okay? Or do you want me to drive you to the hospital?"

Ignoring Oscar's genuine concerned inquiries, Noah fired back, "Why are you here? Are you here to collect compensation for last night's damage?"

"Okay, you're totally fine in your head," Oscar remarked, his gaze sweeping across the house. "Though the place is pretty good, it still needs some renovation."

The mention of his house struck a nerve, prompting Noah to shout, "Don't you dare speak anything about this house."

Observing his fierce reaction, Oscar raised his brows at him and questioned, "You being serious?"

“Yes, I have full ownership to—”

“Don’t mind him, sir,” John interrupted, abruptly entering the house. “He is just here to assist you with cleaning the house.”

Confused by the sudden turn of events, Noah shifted his gaze from Oscar to John, seeking clarification.

Shrugging, Oscar began to speak, "Okay fine, so I will renovate the house and—"

Cutting him off sharply, Noah retorted, "I don’t allow that."

John's patience wore thin as he shot a stern look at him. "Don't speak a word. Return home, your mom is waiting for you," he commanded, then redirected his attention to Oscar. "So, when would you like to shift?"

"Now!" Oscar declared firmly.

“Impossible!” Noah stood his ground with defiance clear in his tone.

Furious, John launched a slap towards Noah, who instinctively raised his hand to shield his face. However, John's hand couldn’t reach him as Oscar reached out to grab his wrist and protect Noah from his attack.

Lowering his arms, Noah met with the surprising sight of Oscar smiling at him. A smile that stirred something within him. A smile that pulled the string of his heart and played the sweetest melody which he had never heard before. It kept on playing even after Oscar blinked at him with the same smile and shifted his gaze towards John.

With confusion clouding his mind, he muttered underneath his breath, ‘What the hell was that?’

It was difficult for him to ascertain if it was the protection Oscar offered against his stepfather or the enigmatic smile that had left him unsettled.

“Stop that, old man,” Oscar ordered, letting go of his hand. “Don’t trouble your old bones. The amount has been transferred to your account, so you may leave now.”

Clearing his throat, John offered, “If you want, I can arrange for the renovation.”

“I will deal with that myself! You can leave!” he asserted firmly.

Nodding, John turned to Noah, issuing a command, “What are you waiting for? Come!” He grabbed Noah's wrist and attempted to pull him, but Noah stood his ground, refusing to budge, which visibly agitated John. "Boy, don’t test my patience," he warned, shooting a glance at Noah, but his words fell silent as he noticed Oscar pulling Noah’s other hand.

In a calm tone, Oscar said, “Let him stay here.”

“But he–”

“LEAVE!” he ordered, prompting John to nod and shoot one last glare at Noah before storming out.

Totally shocked, Noah glanced at Oscar. 'Who exactly is he that even John seems scared of?' The question lingered briefly in his mind before Oscar plunged heavily on the sofa, causing it to break unexpectedly.

Furious, Noah shouted, “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

Getting up, he mumbled, “Relax, man, I–”

“Get out!”

Scrunching his face in disappointment, he retorted, “There's no need to go hard on me. I just saved you from your cruel father, didn't I?”

“I said get out of my home before you damage other things,” Noah's voice trembled with suppressed emotions as he fought back tears that were collecting seeing the broken sofa.

“It’s just a sofa, chill. I’ll bring a new one–”

“It's not about the sofa. It's more than that.” He took a deep breath before adding in a low tone, “Just leave!”

Slipping his hand inside his pocket, he stated firmly, “Fine, if you really want me to leave, then I will, but on one condition!”