“Motherfucker.” Abel turned around in his chair to glance at Cain quickly. He turned back to his plate of lambchops and mashed potatoes.

“Found out, huh?” Abel asked. He knew exactly why Cain was livid.

“I can’t fucking believe you.” Cain charged at his younger brother, gripped his shirt collar, pulled him out of his chair and pushed him to the ground before letting go. Abel stayed on his hands and knees and slowly stood up.

“Don’t look at me, okay?” Abel raised his hands up in defense, his palms facing Cain. “I’m better at making money than you are. You know that, dad knows that. That’s why he picked me.” Abel could see Cain’s balled fists. His knuckles were white.

“I was suppose to get the company! I was suppose to be the best!” He pointed an accusing finger at Abel. “I’m.” Jab. “Suppose.” Jab. “To.” Jab. “Be.” Jab." Number." Jab. “One.” Abel grabbed Cain’s finger and bent it backwards. Cain screamed and ripped his finger away from his brother. “You fucker!”