But everything changed on my eighteenth birthday, when my dad brought Matthew home.
The doors and windows of the villa had been locked and a few people were assigned to keep an eye on me. "Joseph, it’s best if you stay home, or things will get ugly."
Samantha Baldwin stood in front of me, holding a baseball bat, her face serious, like an old servant ready to stab me with a needle.
I had barely taken two steps toward the door when the bat struck my leg hard.
Pain shot through me as I dropped to my knees.
"Joseph, your eldest brother clearly ordered me to break your legs if you disobey."
She suddenly cried out, "Joseph refuses to obey and is determined to ruin the wedding. Stop him now!"
Several bodyguards quickly moved toward me, gripping batons in their hands. I stepped back in fear.
"What are you trying to do? I didn’t even try to run! How dare you use force on me?"
"Joseph, do you really think we don’t know what’s going on in your head? You might not have run now, but who knows about later."
"I’d rather break your legs than keep watch over you. As long as I’m here, you won’t ruin Matthew’s wedding!"
"Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell Mom and Dad?"