One was not the child of Meng Siu and live a clean life.

It was technically impossible as the majority of our wealth came from crime. My father ran a money laundering business. A laundromat, and a restaurant that did far more business then it technically did. All somehow at a loss, which invoked government grants and supports.

My big brother, Micheal, got into Mom’s gang-related shenanigans. The man had several gunshot wounds, and somehow still felt that he was in the best shape of his life. Like mother, like son? I guess.

My big sister, Veronica, ran the prostitute underworld in the city. She owned half of the independent massage parlors, and two of the top three chains across the country.

My little sister, Danielle, was big into computer hacking. We didn’t know what she did half of the time, but I did find out that both the FBI and CIA were after two of her aliases.

As for myself, I kept myself clean. Nothing good could come out of this. Or so I told myself.

I just didn't have anything to offer. The few times I tried. Really tried to help… they didn’t turn out well. Good thing the cops were affordable, and that one time they felt that they had finally gotten the Siu family into trouble…

The judge ruled me an idiot for trying to do my own taxes, and I was not in fact participating in tax evasion. The jury simply heard me talk for hours and hours. I had nothing but lame stories, and my private life was exposed… to my embarrassment.

I think the rejected dick pick was what sealed my fate. That tiny pecker, and her immediate video of her laughter. Her friend's laughter. That crowd…

Obviously criminal mastermind was not something I was engaging in.

I got off with a fine, and the shocked face of the Police Commissioner was so great that my Mom and Dad bought me a house and a new car. They had framed and mounted the newspaper clipping onto the kitchen wall at the main house.

So I simply got a normal job doing cheap tech work at Geek Group, and I earned a steady paycheck. I am sure Danielle was so disappointed. I know Mom and Dad where.

Oh well. I lived an honest life, and I lived a good life. The lack of house and car payment meant that even on part-time wages, I could live very well.

I guess my evil deeds started and stopped with nepotism.

I sighed as I opened my door. My phone unlocked the various deadbolts by proximity via GPS location. Then the wifi detected my location and began to light up the hallway.

I made my way into my kitchen. The lights kicked in and I dropped the simple day’s groceries onto the counter. Today was Taco Tuesday!

“Alexa, turn on Netflix!” I hollered and my TV, speaker system, and soft lighting click on.

I chose to watch a rerun as it made the house seem less empty. I quickly began to prep the food as I pulled out the various utensils. I had the seasoning ready.

All I needed to do was…

“Herro James!” My mom’s voice popped up and I screamed.

On the TV was my mother’s face and she waved hello.

“Why you no marry yet?” she admonished me as she did that frown thing. Her eyebrows instantly triggered so many memories that they were also getting triggered.

I screamed at the ceiling for a completely different reason. Rage. So much rage.

“You so razy. We fix it for you. Veronica finds beautifuro gurro! She rival beech, but looks OK!” she gave me a thumbs up. Then she pointed to an audaciously photoshopped Instagram picture of Veronica in a string bikini. To this day I still wonder why she kept showing that picture of my sister.

Then she pointed downwards.

What? The only thing in front of the TV was my nice couch… my mind loaded the relevant information. No wonder I nearly failed math 30.

“You didn’t! She didn’t!” I screamed as I hopped forward and peered at my couch.

Yup. There she was.

If anything, Veronica knew what beautiful woman meant.

She had long hair. Soft features. Very fit judging by her limbs and tummy. The scandalous sheer teddy she wore made more than my eyeballs pop.

“Now go make grand babies!” my mother screamed in her no-nonsense voice.

The video then changed to one of a fireplace… and was that Barry White?

Wait…

Didn’t Veronica tell me that I was conceived shortly after one of the man’s concerts?

Oh.

Hell.

No.

“Uuuuhn,” the woman moaned as her eye fluttered.

I frowned as I stared at her. Then back to the kitchen where I had just received that overly expensive chef knife. Micheal had said something like it was custom made, and the original owner didn’t need it anymore.

Kill her.

Or kill me.

Which would hurt less…