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own. They may not have injured the body, but what they did do was destroy and corrupt the soul.
    My soul had been picked apart long ago. When all of your life you’re compared to someone you know you’ll never be as handsome as, or as rich or powerful as, the constant envy and hate take its toll.
    I hated Bram Whitlock. He was everything I wanted to be. Even if I could have been half the man he portrayed, I would have been happy. But that wasn’t the case. I wasn’t born into a rich family. I wasn’t handed everything I wanted. Not in the sense he was. My father worked for his as the high leader. My mother, an absent drug addict who I hadn’t seen since I was four, while his mother was the world’s biggest socialite. I used to play at their extravagant mansion in my youth. It led Bram’s father to take notice of how me and his son got along. From there, I was sent to the same schools as Bram.
    Where I excelled, Bram outshined me. Sports, academics, girls. He was always better in everything he tried his hand at. And he never cared for any of it. Not even the girls. What pleased him the most was proving he was the best. Then he was done.
    But now I was going to have something he only wished for. Twenty-four-six-ninety was going to be mine. He loved her. The longing in his eyes while he hid behind that screen couldn’t conceal that. It was desperate and pathetic. Bram had never paid so much attention to a woman before. This one, this Everleigh, was different. Even for me. It was as if I could feel their connection. His yearning became my own. It corrupted me, warping my malicious mind. But even there, he and I were similar. Neither of us were good men. He just didn’t know it. To him, I was the good one. But there was no honor when I thought of the two of them together, or even her.
    It all started with him leaving up her apartment on his screen. At first, I hadn’t paid attention to the old man walking around, but then there she was … beautiful, angelic even. Bram exploded when I asked about her. He didn’t want to talk about it, and that was enough to more than pique my interest. He wanted her, and that made me want her more. Then, a few weeks after he took his role as Master of Whitlock, the visits came. Numerous times we’d go by their apartment. It never escaped me how their eyes always found each other. And his reasons for needing to visit Master Vicolette were bullshit. It was her. It was always her.
    Knock. Knock.
    My fist connected a third time against the metal door and Bram opened it, his eyes still heavy with sleep.
    “Got your coffee. Black with sugar, just the way you like it.”
    He paused, swinging the door open and taking the Styrofoam cup. “Thanks. What time is it?”
    I walked in, taking notice of the blanket on the couch. The bastard never slept in a bed. Give him a couch or chair and he’d make due. Hell, even the floor. I never understood it with the money and luxuries he forever had at his disposal.
    “It’s a little after six. I take it you didn’t get much sleep last night?”
    “Slept fine.”
    He took a sip of the coffee, putting it down to head to the restroom. I waited for the door to close before I walked to his computer. One tap of the mouse and a cell came into view. Two women were sleeping on the small beds that lined each side of the room. From the dark hair, I knew which one was Everleigh, but the length was gone. Her hair, it was no longer than a few inches. If she was lucky it would come to her shoulders, but I doubted it. The sight made me curse under my breath. The routine was one I’d seen throughout my time here, but I hated that it had to be done to her. My fantasies of seeing her long hair draped around her nude body were gone.
    Water turned on in the distance and I refrained from touching anything so the screen could black out again. Within minutes, Bram was walking back out, dressed in a suit that cost more than my monthly salary. And me, I was doing what I