Rise of the Rejected; Bred by the Mafia CEO

My body was found in an abandoned building.

One of the construction workers threw up so hard he could barely dial 911.

When Mom and Dad rushed over straight from Leo Hawkin's celebration party, a criminalistics expert frowned as he gestured for them to put on their masks.

Dad was one of the top criminal investigators the city ever hired from outside the force, while Mom was the best forensic pathologist in Jarrowood.

Despite the countless crime scenes they'd seen, they both froze when they saw the body.

It was the peak of summer, and the heat made everything worse. The body was bloated, and the face was crushed beyond recognition.

Bruises and injuries covered the body, and there was barely anything left of the head but the torn skin clinging to the neck.

The pungent smell of decay hit them in waves.

Mom closed her eyes and took a deep breath before putting on her gloves and getting to work. She looked down at what was left of me, and pity filled her eyes.

She'd never looked at me that way when I was alive.

I watched her nervously as she slipped the blood-caked ring off my finger.

That was one of the matching rings I'd made for everyone in the family, and Mom and Dad had yelled at me for Leo's ill-fitting ring.

"Of course, you did it on purpose… You're always picking on your brother!

"Bastian, you may be our biological son, but Leo has lived with us for over a decade. He'll always matter more than you do!"

I could remember how harsh their chidings were, but even now, I believed they still loved me. Surely they'd recognize the ring as my gift!

But Mom expressionlessly handed it to her assistant, who dropped it into the evidence bag.

I shouldn't have expected anything else, knowing I never really existed for them, though I was their son by blood.

My older sister, Maeve Hawkin, once told me they'd adopted Leo only because they couldn't find me after I was kidnapped, and that I was the only son they loved.

But when I came home, I seemed to have lost my place within the family and felt out of place like an impostor.

After looking around the crime scene, Dad sighed and turned to Mom. "What do we know about the body?"

She pulled off her gloves and rubbed her temples as she replied, "Looks about 20. Preliminary investigation results show a deep cut to the throat, and they were tortured for quite a while before death."

"Such brutal cases are field days for the press. We have to solve it fast before it blows up," Dad murmured, looking deeply troubled. Then, he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Even dead, I was still a problem for them to fix.

The criminalistics expert piped up a reminder. "The culprit's still on the run, so tell your family to be careful, especially your two sons. Keep them home at night."

Mom irritatedly replied, "Leo's always well-behaved, and it's Bastian I can't control."

The criminalistics expert, an old classmate of theirs, just nodded. He knew how things were in our house.

Dad rubbed his right shoulder and winced a little.

Noticing his actions, the criminalistics expert asked, "Does your shoulder hurt again, Garrett?"

Dad shook his head and waved dismissively. "It's fine. Bastian got me medicine the other day…" he trailed off, stunned.

The son they claimed they couldn't control was exceptionally worried about their health.

The criminalistics expert gave Dad a pat on the back and said, "You should treat him better. He's your flesh and blood, after all."

Dad just shook his head. "Leo had a tennis match the other day and kept begging Bastian to come watch it. But Bastian played dead and said nothing after answering the call.

"Leo was so disappointed that he only managed to score third place."

"Bastian hasn't come home for days, and for all we know, he could've died on the streets. That's what happens when you don't raise them yourself," Mom added.

Their harsh words and blame froze me to the bone.

I wanted to scream so badly and tell them that I didn't mean to stay away, and that I just couldn't return home anymore.

The brat they called ungrateful… died the day they both went to cheer for Leo's tennis match.

Now, my body was right here.