“Happy now, Moe?” Manny settled onto the sofa violating the restraining order.

“What else, Meanie?” Moe wearily set the book aside, shooting him an irritated look.

“Oh, right, you don't use social networks, and you only read books on the internet,” Manny unlocked his smartphone, presenting it to Moe, triggering a sharp sense of déjà vu- his heart constricted with unpleasant anticipation, and Moe stared in amazement at the...

He was looking at Einar with a heartwarming tenderness. They stood in the enchanting winter garden of the Simmons residence, locked in a gaze amid the sunlight filtering through fluffy snowflakes, resembling... a couple deeply in love. Anxious, Moe swallowed hard, reached for his phone, swiped down and searched for the article, and felt a chill- the writer gleefully reported that Einar Simmons had confirmed his relationship with Moe Doe, offering apologies to his former fiancé Eddie Johnson for the engagement annulment. The article then delved into the topic of the profound love that bound the unknown common man, Moe Doe, and the charismatic Einer Simmons. A mix of joy and fear surged within him—a nagging feeling that Einar was pursuing an unknown agenda.

“It's a fake,” Moe whispered with numb lips, letting the phone fall into his lap. “We haven't discussed it with Einar. I'm leaving in two days.”

“And he'll just let you go? Don't lie to me, Moe,” Manny sounded wistful, his tone suddenly shifting. “He's got you now, leaving me with no chance.”

“You never had a chance, you dipshit,” Moe was repulsed by the very phrasing, treating him like an inanimate object, as if he were something to be placed or given away at will. “I'll be gone in two days anyway, and this whole story will create a stir and then fade away. Maybe Einar went along with his PR guy and decided to earn some brownie points at my expense, but he forgot to ask me, asshole.”

“You won't be able to leave!” Manny let the insult slide. “Are you out of your mind, Moe? You'll be hunted by the paparazzi; you're as visible as me and Einar! Hey, open your eyes to the situation!”

“I'll leave town for a while, and the cage will fall apart on its own,” Moe countered uncertainly, glancing at Manny, who raised his eyebrows skeptically. “What the hell did he do that for?”

“I don't know, but trust me, Einer calculates everything," Manny hissed in disgust. “I don't think it's a fake; it's more likely that Einar leaked the information himself and orchestrated the process. He rubbed my nose in it, proved to you that he was serious, and scored points with the audience - all upsides, as you can see. Checkmate.”

“I don't see any upsides for myself,” Moe said grimly. “We haven't spoken at all since that day, I'm just sitting around waiting for the end of the contract, so Einar didn't prove any seriousness to me; he just put me in an awkward position, clipped my wings—I won't be able to hang out in my hometown now, that blood-sucking piece of shit!”

“It's my fault,” Manny sighed wearily. “If I hadn't set you up last time, none of this would have happened.”

“It wouldn't have,” Moe confirmed angrily, not about to make it any easier on him. “You're both morally deformed morons, and you're dragging me down for my morals. I am so sick of you! I wish I could never see you again.”

“I think this may be a distraction," Manny rubbed his chin thoughtfully, ignoring the unflattering definition of himself and his brother. It seems like he deliberately created a distraction to signal to certain people that he's preoccupied with personal matters, thereby canceling any plans for revenge.”

“What revenge?” Moe asked cautiously.

“So,” Manny hesitated, his gaze clouded with uncertainty. “Remember the other day during training, with a dozen more bodyguards, and cameras all around. You must understand why our house has turned into a fortress, right?”

“Let's skip the guessing game and cut to the chase. What do you know?” Moe shifted his body, focusing on Manny, trying to read his expressions.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Did Einar share the details of our parents' death with you?” Manny started cautiously.

“He mentioned they died in a terrorist attack,” Moe confirmed, sensing a shift in the conversation.

“That's not true. Einer told me everything. Officially, it was,” Manny's cheek twitched, "recognized as a terrorist attack. In reality, the private plane they were on wasn't blown up by extremists but by a competitor. My parents had invested in a secret bioengineering project aiming to develop an artificial eyeball and a lens fused to the retina, capable of disrupting the entire eyeglasses and conventional lenses industry, which meant enormous financial gains since one in two people have poor eyesight in this digital age. However," Manny spoke in a hoarse tone, staring blankly ahead, "the scientists managed to achieve success with the project. They were supposed to patent their discovery with my parents, this is when the plane blew up...”

“Where were the labs?” Moe asked, trying to keep his composure by digging his nails into his palms.

“In Singapore and Spain, Madrid, I think,” Manny answered absentmindedly. “Why?”

“I'm just curious; please go on,” Moe closed his eyes, absorbing every word.

“After our parents' death, Einer attempted to salvage the scientific breakthrough, investigating the true culprits behind the explosion. He narrowed down the list of suspects to a few influential individuals, including a high-ranking official in the Senate. Einer began to trail them, this drew their attention, so he had to beef up the security service while putting all potential culprits in a precarious situation – they are not able to go ahead with the project, but they also could not let Einar go on. Apologies for the rambling; I'm not privy to the details, but one thing is certain - the risk is currently too high, and we need to wait out the danger. Are you okay?" Manny looked at Moe, who was sweaty and pale, breathing irregularly.

“I need some time alone to process everything,” Moe rose heavily from the couch, making his way to his room. He barked irritably upon hearing footsteps behind him, "Alone, I said!"

In his room, Moe settled on weakened legs on the bed, shedding his indifferent facade. He allowed himself to shake with a coarse chill, bit his knuckles to stifle any potential screams, and rocked from side to side in an attempt to regain composure. Deep within, the excruciating pain rose to the surface, making him feel sick and awakening ghosts from the past. Moe struggled with impending sobs and a gag reflex, attempting to piece together the events in a logical chain and assess his own judgment of himself—was he guilty? Or was he... Manny was pulled out of his deep contemplation by a cautious knock on the door.

“Moe, I'm sorry. Can we talk? Did I scare you? Can I come in?”

“Fuck off, Manny!” Moe snapped, frustrated by the intrusion into his already chaotic mental state. “Leave me alone!”

Manny forcefully kicked the door, meeting aggression with more aggression, then stomped away heavily. Moe shook his head, attempting to gather his thoughts, retracing the timeline to when his tranquil happiness had been shattered. The thoughts refused to align in logical order, creating a jumble that eluded clarity. Moe jumped up, pacing around the room with ragged breaths. It clicked! Einer and Manny's parents had indirectly caused the death of his family! Amid various conclusions, pure hatred bubbled up- his parents and brother had been leading a decent life in their hometown until the meddling Simmonses shattered their existence. It wasn't entirely rational, but it provided a somewhat relieving outlet for the guilt that weighed on him like an oppressive force.

Moe forcefully kicked open the bathroom door and hastily began to undress, eager to cleanse himself of the day's revelations. He longed to wash away the unsettling truths in the invigorating spray of the shower, postponing the weighty contemplations for later. Initially opting for hot water, he gritted his teeth, then switched to ice-cold water, a burn no less searing, and let out a deep, soulful sob. If it weren't for him, his family wouldn't have relocated, wouldn't have coincidentally ended up in the same city, and wouldn't have boarded that damned Simmons’ jet. Perhaps they might have discreetly ended their research when faced with threats—his mom, dad, and brother were rational people who understood the stakes.

But they were gone. Because of him. And he perished alongside them.

Moe pounded on the shower stall floor for a long time—hammering out his anguish until he sobbed dryly, until he vomited from exhaustion. Eventually, he managed to stand up, his vomit-stained hands sliding on the wall. He turned on the water, washing the vomit away, barely made it to bed, and collapsed, still wet. Swallowing his daily dose of pills, he covered himself with a blanket.

It might have been better if he remained ignorant. Knowing didn't alleviate the pain; it merely thrust him headlong into the ugly past, forcing him to recall every agonizing detail and whimper quietly into his pillow. The present faded in comparison to the past, became insignificant.

Einar had ensnared him in a complex game, much like how his parents had entangled Moe’s family in another, ultimately costing them their lives.

Without knowing.

Unquestioningly.

Mercilessly.

The only recourse was to accept the situation as it was, much like his family had done. The difference was, they had something to lose, but Moe had nothing left - life had lost its meaning with their departure.