Chapter 1

My father wasn't responsible. Sure, he was a tough guy, a mobster, but not tough enough to handle kids. So he dumped the three of us out on the street right in front of an orphanage in the next town over. I was about six at the time.

Adam, Isaac, and Lino—those were our names. From the day we got dumped, Adam, my older brother, essentially became our father figure. He was the strong one, always carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Isaac was a bit more sensitive—the girl he fell for back at the orphanage left a soft spot in his heart. Me? Whenever trouble hit, I was always the one who had to fix it and pull us through.

We grew up without a mother or father, following right in our old man's footsteps. Before long, the three of us became the most notorious serial killers in the city. Blood became like water to us. But even so, we never killed an innocent. Every sinner had to pay. We weren't gods, but we were justice for the voiceless. By the time we hit thirty, our body count was around 24… wait, no, 25. Yeah, 25.

The three of us were on a job. Nothing new, just another hit. But this time, the name on the contract stopped us dead in our tracks: Mikkel Fletcher. Our father.

You could see the shock plain as day on Adam's face. He’d wanted to reunite our family for as long as I could remember, but he never found a lead—word was the old man had fled the country years ago. But now, his name dropped right into our laps, complete with a location and a window for the hit. Isaac didn't say a word. He just stared at us, eyes welling up with tears. I'll never forget the trembling in his hands or the way his head shook as he read the paper.

Adam broke the silence. "Finally… we're getting back together. Finally, our family gets its name back. And when we get there, we find out what happened to Mom." Isaac stayed frozen, tearing up in total silence.

We prepped for the job. Bags packed, weapons loaded, ammo stocked. Adam brought along a ring our father had given him when he was a kid. He’d kept it all those years, convinced that one day he’d face the old man again and hand it back to him.

When we reached the location, it looked like an abandoned, pitch-black warehouse—just piles of hay everywhere. Wait… no, it was an old farm. Two huge guards were posted outside. Isaac dirtied up his shirt with some dust, put on a weary, helpless act, and shuffled slowly toward them like a lost, scrawny wanderer.

"I'm lost… I'm not from around here. Can anyone help me get out of this place?"

Adam and I were lurking in the trees on the opposite side. With two muffled pops from a suppressed pistol, Adam put a bullet straight through each guard's head. They dropped instantly. We handed Isaac back his weapon and gear, then slipped inside, fanning out and crawling quietly through the hay.

Suddenly, the lights flickered on. An overhead door opened, and a man walked out… my father. And right beside him was a woman who looked eerily familiar. My mother. I caught snatches of her voice, trembling as she told him, "Why are our sons still alive, Mikkel? Every sinner has to be punished eventually."

Adam looked at me, his eyes asking, *Did you hear what I just heard?* The shocks just kept coming. In a matter of days, we'd tracked down our father, and now our mother was standing right in front of us. Adam had already told us he wasn't there to execute the hit; he was there to reunite our family.

Without waiting for Mom to step off the stairs, he fired a single round into the air and stepped out into the open. Total shock filled the room. Isaac and I hadn't planned for this. Mom turned to look, and Dad realized we were actually there, glaring at her with a mix of regret and bitterness—thinking she’d brought us along to force his hand.

Two armed guards rushed out of Dad's office, guns aimed right at us. Dad held up a hand. "Lower your weapons… these are my boys," he said with a smirk. A mockery I couldn't wrap my head around. To this day, I still don't understand why he abandoned us when we were kids.

Dad sent Mom out of the farm completely and dismissed all the guards. The three of us walked into his office to sit down. But the very second my foot crossed the threshold… Dad, sharp as ever, sneered at Adam and laughed. "You're still carrying that stupid ring around?"

Before he could even finish the sentence, I emptied my clip into Isaac and Adam. Blood pooled everywhere. Adam stared up at me with heartbreak in his eyes, choking out, "W… why?" before his head hit the floor.

Only Dad was left, his face drained dead-white, completely unable to process what just happened. Until I started talking.

"You threw us away years ago. You didn't see what we went through, what we endured. We became judges on this earth. Anyone who sinned paid the price, and destiny brought us right to your doorstep to punish you. Adam dreamed of getting back together—his love for you was blind and mindless. Isaac was too soft; he forgot what you did to us. He forgot how we spent years watching other kids with their parents, while we had no one.

Don't be surprised I shot them. I am not letting my brothers carry on your filthy bloodline. Adam wanted to come back to you, and I wasn't having it. Isaac? You would've tricked him, and he would've jumped right into your arms. They would've had kids of their own, continuing your disgusting legacy. But I'm stopping it. I'm wiping you off the face of the earth—you and every dog like you."

My father just stared at me. He tried to look cold, but he was trembling. He looked composed on the outside, but I knew he was terrified, shaken to his core. All his authority dissolved the moment I pointed the gun in his face—and from whom? The son he dumped all those years ago.

Destiny is fair enough to serve us justice. As for Adam and Isaac… this was the fate waiting for them if they ever went back to him. I just showed them mercy a little early. Because otherwise, Mikkel Fletcher would've slaughtered them just like he did everyone else.