Someone Ordinary, More or Less

Dante squinted his eyes and asked, "That beast is more aggressive than usual, isn't it?"

"That's a pretty stubborn horse. John just tried to tame it, but he hasn't made any progress." Lloyd sighed, recalling how many times that horse had thrown off its rider.

"If you can't do it, maybe we should release it with the other wild horses outside the ranch."

"Shouldn't they have done that from the start?" Dante set his luggage down and then came back.

Rip approached with his horse and said, "John loves that horse. I doubt he wants to return it to the wild."

"He might try again later, but if it breaks one of my bones, you'll have to take care of me while I heal, and I'm pretty unbearable when I'm hurt." Dante said as he walked back toward the main house of the ranch.

The barn, the shed, and the stables were all part of the same structure, standing separate from each other, and the cabin was nearby those buildings.

It was called a cabin, but it was anything but ordinary, as it had two floors, an attic, and about nine rooms of different kinds.

The main house was where all the family members lived; at least that's what John wanted with the entire Dutton family, but the only ones currently living there were Jaime and John.

From what Dante had heard, Lee lived in a cabin next to the main house, where the foreman, who usually led the cowboys, stayed. But that cabin was now being used by Lee, while the other one was a bit closer to the barracks where the cowboys lived.

He was still agitated by everything he had done the previous night; it wasn't common for him to dismember a body with a rusty machete.

Just as he climbed the gentle slope and stepped onto the flat grass, Lee, standing by the grass with a glass of wine, smiled and said, "I still don't like walking too much, Dante."

Dante looked at his brother and approached to greet him with a hug.

"Did you already graduate?" Lee looked at his brother a little surprised.

"More or less, let's just say I'm taking a few years off until I decide if I want to go back."

"Hmm, so you'll miss that thing called prom."

Dante laughed as he lifted the backpack hanging from his left shoulder and said, "You'll get to take me to plenty of dances, little brother."

Lee gave a subtle smile and said, "I'll take you if you haven't gotten some girl pregnant by then. You should be careful about that."

"That would be the last thing I'd do. I wouldn't dare bring a creature into this world full of crap, horse manure, and arrogant idiots." Dante's joke made his brother Lee burst out laughing.

But Dante, after that, said, "Just kidding. I remember you were the best at getting beautiful women. Do you still do that?"

"No, no, now I'm dedicated to running this ranch like Dad wanted."

Dante smiled sympathetically, patting his older brother Lee on the shoulder. Besides him, there was no one else to support their father on the ranch.

This ranch was like a curse for the family members, a place they couldn't stay for too long without being corrupted.

"You should stop worrying about your younger brother and start looking for a wife to have your own kids. In a few more years, you'll be forty, and our father won't wait long for grandchildren to take care of. Don't you think a grandchild would be a nice birthday present?" After saying that, Dante patted Lee's shoulder and turned to walk toward the family's main cabin.

Lee smiled at those words. His younger brother was right, but he had learned that family life wasn't for him.

Dante then headed to the family cabin. Along the way, he looked through the window, where a blonde woman stood—his older sister, Beth, who shouldn't have been here because of her job.

Saying she was a beautiful woman might sound a bit bold, but in Dante's eyes, it didn't mean much since men love women for different reasons.

Many might find a woman attractive, and others might not. Everyone, men or women, is driven by hormones or stronger hidden desires.

If he remembered correctly, it was near the anniversary of his mother's death. He didn't recall them ever gathering as a family for this, as he hadn't been here for years due to his secret work. But if they weren't here for that anniversary, it was because of jobs that John wasn't sure he could entrust to his son Jaime.

And for the reasons mentioned before, whenever this day came, Beth became sensitive, biting with every word, and would get angry if she didn't like someone.

Beth, after all, felt guilty about their mother's death, but Dante didn't care because it wasn't her fault; it was just a simple human error.

"I didn't expect to see you here." Dante didn't pay much attention due to his current emotional state.

But as he entered the house and walked down the hallway, he saw a man sitting by the fireplace, contemplating life—it was none other than old John, his father, whom he hadn't seen in a long time.

Seeing John in this solitary state, Dante sighed with a bit of weariness.

He threw his backpack next to the couch and walked to the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a glass of wine before taking off his jacket and sitting across from John, who seemed lost in thought.

John didn't say a word, but he couldn't help but sigh when he saw his youngest son appear.

"You're only twenty. You're too young to start drinking."

"I'm twenty-one. Maybe an extra year if you count the time I was in my mother's womb, but I suppose only Asians consider that part of their age." Dante smiled as he said this.

John looked at Dante, who was identical to his eldest son, and hearing his words, he was left speechless. His youngest son always had responses that were impossible to answer quickly.

"You won't drink the moment you walk into this house."

Dante set the glass aside. Despite everything he had done, he still respected his father, so he would never go against his wishes. But he could change that if he wanted to—though now wasn't the time or place.

John, though not great at expressing himself, had a love for his children that couldn't be questioned, and although Dante wasn't his puppet, he would protect this family.

In his previous life or memories of it, Dante didn't have a father or mother, so in this life, he would continue with his plans: to overprotect his family, no matter the cost.

"What are your plans now?" John asked, knowing his son had already stopped studying.

He didn't know what to do with Dante—then or twenty-one years ago, he still didn't know.

In fact, he wasn't even aware that he still treated this youngest son differently from his other children.

If it were any other child, they wouldn't have had the choice to decide what they wanted to do. They would have done whatever he told them, and he would never have asked what they wanted.

As for the reason, it was only because his wife loved Dante the most and had spent the least time caring for him. And the fact that he didn't know his mother prevented John from giving Dante the same lessons he gave his other children.

His wife was dead. She was now resting, and his youngest son seemed to think more than he said, do more than he showed, and feel more than he expressed.

"I've thought about it a lot, and I plan to take a few years off to figure out what I really want."

"Years off?" John didn't understand what that meant.

Beth approached and said mockingly, "That's just an excuse for a lazy bum who hasn't done anything in his life, isn't it?"

"Beth!" John, the last thing he wanted was a family fight after Dante had just come home.

Dante didn't get emotional over words designed to destabilize him, so he said, "As charming as ever, sis."

"That's my gift, little brother." Beth approached while holding a bottle of wine.

"You're still so childish that when I leave, well, these days, there's not much to expect from you." Dante stood up and, without turning around, said, "I'm going to find my room and take a shower. I'll come down for dinner."

Crack!

But before he could go upstairs, the bottle in Beth's hand shattered beside Dante, and she said, "Go to hell!"

"You're tired, Beth. Go get some sleep." Dante turned around and took the glass from his sister's hand, then helped her upstairs.

John didn't say a word; in fact, he couldn't.

"Believe it or not, I'm glad to be home." Dante said before also heading upstairs.

"So am I, son…" John murmured regretfully, seeing all the mess around him.