My Brother’s Game

They were all… pictures of me.In one, a teenager in a blue-and-white school uniform grinned proudly from a podium. That was me at fifteen, when I’d won the math competition. I thought the photo had gone missing, but it turned out Leon had kept it here. Another showed me at seven, riding on Leon’s shoulders to pick persimmons. There was one of me at twelve, when he had carried me home from the hospital after an IV drip. He even kept the embarrassing shots of me passed out drunk on my eighteenth birthday.I crouched down and picked up one photo of Leon himself, back when he was still an orphan.In that moment, I was back to when he was thirteen. A pale, porcelain-faced boy sat quietly under the sycamore tree at the orphanage, lashes lowered, still as a painting.He was wearing a washed-out T-shirt, yet he looked more like a storybook prince than any of the rich kids at my school in their polished clothes.That day, Mom had ruffled my hair and asked, “Harry, which one do you w

The ruler cracked against the floor with a sharp smack.Leon turned around. I could hear him drawing a deep breath, as if he were forcing down a surge of emotions.“Shameless.” His voice was hoarse and terrifying, yet he didn’t look back as he walked out the door.“Shameless!”I stood frozen with my eyes lowered, letting my lashes hide the emotions beneath them.Leon, just you wait!When the next morning’s sunlight filtered through the curtains, the doorbell rang like a death knell.“Shit!” I buried my face deeper into the pillow, my knuckles cracking as I clenched my fists.What time is it?I grabbed the pillow and hurled it against the wall, then stepped barefoot over the empty bottles scattered on the floor. On the video screen by the door, Tony’s smirking face as he fiddled with the doorbell made my back teeth ache. He always loved showing up when I was in the worst mood, just to twist the knife.“Harry, heard your brother smacked you around again.” He leaned against th

After resolving the supply chain crisis, Leon rushed back to the country.Cold airport lights hit his tall, lean frame. Dressed in a flawless black suit, his sharp features looked even more distant. His brows and eyes were chiseled like stone, his nose high, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Even his breathing seemed restrained.The moment he stepped off the plane, police officers who had been waiting surrounded him.“Leon Maxwell, Maxwell Corporation has reported you for economic crimes. An indictment has already been filed with the court. Please cooperate with our investigation.”Leon stood still, eyes cold as he swept over the officers before finally looking at me.I leaned lazily against the railing not far away. My suit jacket was draped carelessly over one shoulder, shirt collar undone at the top two buttons, revealing a hint of collarbone. In my hand, I toyed with a USB drive, the very one that contained the evidence Danny had given me to bring Leon down.He kept

The basement light was dim and hazy, casting Leon’s bound shadow long across the concrete wall.I stepped back a few paces and tilted my head to admire my work.The man who was always perfectly dressed and immaculate now stood disheveled, his shirt ripped open, collarbones and taut muscles bared.“Harry, take this off me!” His voice was low, throat working as he spoke. The black blindfold hid his eyes, but his tense jawline betrayed his nerves.The more nervous he was, the more excited I became.My fingertip traced over his throat, feeling his muscles tighten instantly. “What’s the rush? The game’s only just begun.” I slowed my words deliberately, fingers sliding lower.His breathing fell out of rhythm.“Heh, little brat, grown some guts now?” Leon rasped. His hands strained against the chains that fastened him to the pull-up bar, making the metal rattle crisply.I circled behind him, nose almost brushing his nape. His usual cedar scent, mixed with a hint of sweat, pulled m