Page 45 of Sincerely, Butterfly

I didn’t tell my dad; he would have only said she deserved it.

Instead, I pushed for him to agree to send Callie to an all-girls boarding school. She hated the idea, and so did I. I didn’t want her away from me, where I couldn’t protect her. But I knew if she stayed under this roof, Starla would get worse.

Eventually, my father gave in. But not before Starla got in a few more shots at my sister.

I found her cutting Callie’s hair, saying she looked too much like my mother. Sick bitch was jealous of a child.

So, I took the scissors from her hand and chopped off half of her hair.

Starla lost it and started screaming like a banshee. She went right to my dad, and I ended up with a broken nose and cracked jaw.

It was worth it to see my sister smile through her tears.

Watching my sister go was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I made sure I did my best to visit her any chance I could, not wanting her to come back home until it was safe.

That's when I came up with my plan. I needed my dad gone, but not before I was in the position to be able to take over.

Over the course of seven years, every day I’d sprinkle a bit of noxicorin into anything I could, like his coffee and nightly glass of bourbon.

It was a drug my father created. Something to boost your nervous system, like speed, but only if speed was on crack.

It’s meant to be taken in moderation, and never for extended periods of time.

Wanna know how I know that? Because that sick fuck had been testing it on humans for the past twenty years.

The horrors I’ve seen in his video trials are something I’ll never unsee.

It took some time, but eventually it shut down every organ in his body. The best part was when they tested him to see what could be the cause, and they couldn't find anything out of the ordinary.

Because he was already willingly taking the drug himself, the drug did come up in his blood test, but they never suspected that it could be the cause of his illness because he was taking the same medication in what he thought was moderation.

The added dosage just helped me speed up the process.

It was pure heaven to watch his body shut down. To see that prideful bastard look so pathetic when he’d shit or piss himself, not able to control those basic functions anymore.

The cherry on top was when I whispered in his ear while he was on his deathbed that I was the one who caused his life to come to an end. I was the one who took everything away from him.

Fucker died of a heart attack from shock and anger.

Watching him grasp his chest as he struggled was entertaining. I got to watch the life fade from his eyes, and it was better than any other life I’ve taken.

But ending that bitch, Starla, was the next best thing.

The cunt tried to fight me for all of my father's inheritance. She didn’t stand a chance, and it all came to me before I signed half of it to my sister.

I kicked her out of the house and tossed all her shit into the trash.

She came back a few weeks later, and I guess one of the guards let her in because I found her in my sister's room, trying to steal anything of value. All of my mother’s jewelry was shoved into her Louis Vuitton bag.

I wasn’t supposed to be there. I should have been at a Brotherhood meeting but decided to skip it to go over work documents.

Starla didn’t hear me come in, didn’t see me as I came up behindher. I took the very same pair of scissors that she used to cut my sister's hair and stabbed her in the throat.

The smile stretched across my face was pure evil as I smirked down at her through the mirror.

She bled out on my sister's floor, so I got rid of her body. Toren made that easy. Good man, by the way. Best guy to have on our side.

It wasn’t easy, but in the end I won. I got justice for my mother, kept my sister safe, and ended up one of the most powerful men in New Orleans—possibly the country, really, if you think about it.