by K. M. Raya
That’s right… loves her. I never thought it was possible. My cold, dead heart just isn’t capable of the sentiment, but here we fucking are. I’m desperately in love with the one woman in this whole fucking world I should hate. It’s so damn toxic and someday I know it will all come back to bite me in the ass—it probably already has. I love the black hearted bitch and I don’t know if I can ever convince myself to stop…
Captain
The East Coast is a different breed of affluent, and I already hate it. The air tastes wrong, and a sinister cloud hovers over my head as we step off the plane and onto the tarmac where a limousine waits with open doors and guards at every corner.
Grimacing, I pull my coat tighter against me, straightening my shoulders and running a gloved hand through my white blonde hair, making sure not a strand is out of place. I curse myself internally for fidgeting, but old habits never really do die. Ever since visiting that disgusting house I lived in with Giles for nineteen years, I felt as if a thousand showers would never be enough to wipe the blood off my hands. I feel dirty even now, despite the pressed suit and shining leather shoes. I look the part I’m attempting to play, but I sure as fuck don’t feel it.
Sometimes I can still feel the remnants of bruising under my skin, or cuts along my jaw. I wake in the mornings, not knowing where I am and cringing at the hint of footsteps in the distance on the off chance that Giles decided to come back for more. It often takes the feel of Angel’s soft kisses or sultry voice next to me to remind me that Giles isn’t around to make my life hell anymore.
My chest squeezes beneath my ribs and I know the pain shows on my face as I slide into the seat because Carter shoots me a worried frown. My surly friend watches me with narrowed navy eyes that some might find the norm for him, but knowing Carter as well as I do, there’s something he’s not saying. I nod to him—silently communicating that I’m alright, but the pangs in my chest won't go away. During our long plane ride, my mind was plagued with thoughts of Angel, rejecting over and over the fact that she betrayed us. Something inside of me doesn’t want to accept it, but even I have to admit defeat. Despite the aching longing I feel for the warmth of her skin or the touch of her cherry red lips, I know I’ll never have that again.
It might take some time, but I have to make peace with that fact. Still, it’s not going to be easy—not when her presence seems to be the only thing in the world that chases the monsters away. She’s the only person whose touch doesn’t make me automatically recoil. After years of nothing but pain, it was nice to be held for a while. It was a balm to my soul to have a person who genuinely cared about whether or not I was taking care of myself.
Cursing my wayward thoughts, I watch as the rest of the guys pile in behind me and settle into their seats. We’re all dressed similarly—suits and coats and freshly shaved faces. Even Ellis, who normally skirts the line of decorum with his many rings and facial piercings has toned it down. His eyebrow ring is out today, and he wears nothing but a single silver band on his right thumb—remarkably tame for such a solemn occasion. New tattoos poke out over his suit collar on his neck, making him look terrifying to those who doesn’t know him.
Glancing to the right, I can't help the dip in my chest that works its way to my stomach at the sight of one person I never thought I’d get this close to again. Finley Cassini sits across and to the right—his dark brown hair is longer now and tied into a small bun at the base of his neck. His grey eyes shine just as brightly as the man next to him—his brother, Ellis.
I find myself studying the pair—eyes roving over the plains of their faces, searching for similarities and finding plenty. I don’t know how we failed to see them before. It’s glaringly obvious that the two are blood brothers—some might even assume them to be fraternal twins…
Finley sits with his back straight and hands clasped in his lap. I know he's uncomfortable from the rigid set of his broad shoulders. We’d contacted him shortly after going back to Seaside to tidy up some of our assets and loose ends. After a lengthy discussion that was both unpleasant and incredibly uncomfortable, we’d managed to convince him to accompany us to the Hamptons. Fin didn’t believe a word we said about Angel though—and that’ll be the man’s downfall one day. He’d scoffed in our faces even after he saw the phone. The evidence was there plain as day, and yet he chose her. He chose to believe that she was on our side, and that something had to be amiss, but as much as my heart wants to believe it, I can’t deny the facts. Still though, all it took to convince him to come was the mention of her name.
My blood heats and nerves start to wrack my body. We’re going in blind here. The invitation to Sal’s estate had caught us all off guard. After hiding from the man for half a year, waltzing straight into his domain seems like suicide. Bitterness coats my tongue. I’m getting so fucking tired of being set up and blindsided. It just goes to show you that no matter how much you think you know a person—they’ll always be capable of ripping your heart from your chest.
Angel
A one two punch catches me off guard. Wiping the spittle from my cheek, I turn to glare at the young guard my Papa has training me. He and I have a rather… interesting past, to say the least, and I don’t think he took too kindly to my leaving. Nic is twenty-three years old, but he’s one of the largest men I’ve ever seen. Not fat—just mind-bogglingly large. My limbs still remember the weight of him, back when I was eighteen and he spent his nights pounding me into my mattress instead of guarding my door like he was supposed to.
He’s Italian, with a thick accent and shiny chocolate hair that he wears in a side fade with the top part just a little longer. His skin is olive colored, but his eyes contrast strikingly in a seawater type green that sometimes gives way to blue. He’s a good-looking man, I’ll admit, but sadly his personality is a bit lacking these days. I’ve not seen him smile a single time since returning to this training room—the same room in a different building on my family estate that I trained in for most of my early adolescence. I hate being back in this place, but Papa gave me no choice. For now, I’ll take advantage of more training until I can figure out a way out of here. I’ll play the obedient daughter until I figure out what happened to Mama.
Nic slights to his right, sweeping out a long leg—intending on knocking me to the ground, but I avoid it easily, leaping right over it and pivoting just in time to miss another punch to the jaw. Smirking, I raise a black brow in defiance, to which Nic only rolls his eyes before circling again. We’ve been doing this dance for about an hour now, but my energy levels are high, thanks to all the physical conditioning I’ve kept up on in Vancouver. Sharp pangs of hurt floor me and I have to shake my head to rid my treacherous brain of memories. Idly, I can’t help but wonder what my guys are up to. Are they looking for me? Do they miss me at all? I don’t know, and there’s no way for me to find out if I want to keep them safe from Papa.
Asshole takes advantage of my distracted state and launches his large self at me. I go down hard, slamming into the mat, not even using my shoulder to brace myself. The breath is forced from my body as I lay there staring at the ceiling, seeing stars circle over my head.
“Your vacation has made you weak, princessa,” Nic whispers. He still hasn’t rolled off my body. He weighs a ton and it’s making it harder for me to catch a new breath. Nic’s face is too close to mine.
Grumbling, I turn my face towards the infuriating man and glare daggers through his thick skull. “Vacation? You mean getting kidnapped and sold off to a group of strange men, that vacation?” I huff, wriggling beneath the man. “Excuse me if I’m a bit rusty.”
Nic just stares, glaring right into my eyes and it’s impossible to tell what he’s is thinking. His jaw is clenched. “You need to be better,” he rumbles quietly—so quiet I almost think I didn’t hear him right.
“Wha—” I start to say, but suddenly his weight leaves me, and I find myself rolling to the side and gasping for precious air.
“We’re done for today.” Ni
c walks to the door and knocks twice, only for two guards to open up. He nods to the guard and says something I don’t quite catch before glancing back at me. “Get changed, your father is expecting company.”
My body locks up. Company never means something good. Company means business, and business means someone gets hurt. I don’t respond to the asshole, I just take my leave, breezing past them, knowing their eyes are still on me—tracking me down the hallway. There’s been a shift since I’ve been home. Something’s different, I could feel it the moment I was escorted onto that airplane. The eyes I feel on me at all times seem a little more assessing than they used to, and sadly, I know why.
I’m nineteen now… fair game in the eyes of the mafia. No longer am I the child daughter of the Capo, but rather an eligible bartering tool—or in the case of Papa’s men, a means of rising in rank. The guards have me in their sights, I can practically feel them salivating over me. By all rights I should have been married off six months ago, but since those plans obviously fell through, my hand in marriage is back on the table apparently.
It makes me wonder who our unexpected guest will be tonight. Who is important to Papa these days—important enough to sell me in exchange for something he wants? That’s the most terrifying part of it all, the fact that there’s something Papa can’t just… have.
✽✽✽
Back in my bedroom, the first thing I notice after tearing my eyes from my ceiling once again is a small black package sitting atop my plush red duvet. There’s no bow or card anywhere that I can see, but the box sits ominously in the center of the bed—as if daring me to take a peek.
Sniffing, I stalk to my private bathroom for a shower. I smell like sweat and defeat. Nic really busted my ass out there and it’s my own damn fault for letting myself become distracted. Stripping off my workout clothes, I turn my shower on as hot as it can possibly go before stepping in. Heat rushes over my skin, washing away the sweat and grime of the day, masking the tears that run down my cheeks. This is the only time I let myself cry—when there’s no one watching.
As I scrub my hair with my favorite jasmine scented shampoo, I suck in a short, hiccupping sob, because it’s as if I can feel phantom fingertips skimming the skin of my back. Ghostly lips caress my neck and my jaw—the cold tingle of metal makes me shiver. Was it only a week ago that Ellis had taken me in the shower? Only seven days since his hands were all over me—inside of me? The sobs come harder now, needing to cleanse my body of this grief. A week in my old bed alone and without any of my men to hold me has been hell on earth. I often wake in the night shivering, reaching across the mattress for warm skin but finding only an icy pillow. That’s when the real, bone deep, teeth rattling grief sets in.
After my shower, I trudge into my room, reluctant, yet resolved to just get the night over with. Inside the ominous black box is a white dress that makes me cringe all over. It’s not that the dress isn't absolutely beautiful—it definitely is… it’s what the dress means that has me breathing a little shallower. White—the color of virginity, the color of weakness and purity. Sal did this to spite me, I just know it. He did this to embarrass and shame me for all his men watch and mock. My cheeks are already pink as I pluck the offensive garment from the box and hold it to my naked body. It’s a shame I hate it so much, it really is a pretty dress, and soft too—like silk. It probably is.
After slathering my body with soft-scented lotion, I slip the thing on and smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles. As expected, the dress fits me perfectly, hitting right at my thigh and dipping dangerously low in a V at my chest. Thank the gods I’m not at all top heavy, otherwise it would just look ridiculous. I blow-dry my long blue hair, smiling to myself in the mirror. I only smile because I know how much the blue hue irks Papa, but he hadn’t ordered me to change it… yet. And so I kept it, and it’s starting to become a little game I enjoy playing with the evil man—even if he is unaware of it. There’s a small part of me—however daring, that needs to fuck with Papa a little. He’s done nothing but ruin the lives of everyone he comes in contact with without a single ounce of remorse. He deserves a little rebellion in his life.
Slipping on some nude heels, I make my way to the door, only to find—surprise, surprise, Nic, on the other side. He turns when I step through the doorway, but I don’t miss the way his greenish eyes widen as they scan my body before shuttering once more and looking away. He clenches his jaw, but his nostrils flare. I have no idea why I’m getting satisfaction from his overly male response. I have absolutely zero interest in the behemoth anymore but messing with his mind is an endless source of entertainment in my otherwise bleak world these days.
Instead of letting him lead me though a house I am as familiar with as the back of my own hand, I let him brood behind me as I take the long way down—making sure to take my sweet ass time the entire way. I have no idea who we’re to be dining with tonight, but I also don’t really give a shit either.
Ellis
I have to stop myself from gawking like a fucking fool, and I can’t help it when my jaw tries to drop at the utter opulence around me. I’d been under the impression that my father’s home back in Seaside was decadent, but my childhood home now seems like a cabin in the woods compared to the Valentino estate.
Strangely though, I can totally picture Angel growing up here. I can see it in my mind’s eye—her shiny black hair waving in the wind as she no doubt ran around these lush gardens and played in the fountains. The property is truly beautiful from the outside—a place of wealth, old money and history. Not a person in the world would guess at the atrocities those impeccably decorated and maintained walls encompass. Despite the fact that it’s beautiful, there's a heavy sense of foreboding that weighs me down, and I think the others are feeling it too.
The five of us pile out of the limousine, me stepping out last after my brot—after Finley. It's going to take a while until I can fully come to terms with this. In my heart I know we’re brothers—true, blood-brothers, but my head is still taking a while to catch up. We’ve stayed in contact over the last six months, though I never told Angel about it. I knew it would only worry her. I too had a secret cell phone, but instead of betraying everyone who cares for me, I used it to keep us safe.
Fin catches my attention with his grey-blue gaze that is so like my own. He nods stiffly, but I know he’s just trying to reassure me that he’s here with me now, and never leaving my side again. My stomach squeezes, remembering the too many years we spent hating each other. For most of my life he’d been one of my closest friends—another Brother and confidant until Cole and Giles played us against each other. Alexi too, he’d been an uncle to me… though I still haven’t gathered up the courage to reach out to him since everything went down. He’s my biological father, I realize that, but there were a number of times he could have told me the truth, instead he let me live in that home with a murderer—the one who choked the life out of my mother not thirty feet from my own bedroom...
I’m brought back to the present as Carter claps me on the back. He then grips my shoulder and smiles blandly as we make our way to the massive double front doors. Two large men stand on either side, dressed in identical black suits with black shirts and black ties to match. They have earpieces in their right ears, and I spot the bulge of firearms on their hips. I see one of men adjust his stance as his lips mumble for a moment. We watch him until a barely perceptible nod prompts the other man to reach for the door and let us in.
Surprisingly, the main house isn’t even the most impressive part of the Valentino estate. The entire property is roughly the size of an Olympic stadium. On the ride up to the circular driveway, I was able to count as many as eight buildings scattered over the property. It almost doesn't even look like a home—more like a country club really. The main home stands tall in the very center, and a single road twists around it, heading to the back of the structure—presumably for access to the other buildings which I’m assuming are for guests. Idly, I wonder how many people actual
ly call this place home. I won’t lie though; the entire area is beautiful and expertly manicured. It almost brings the Brotherhood to shame. I thought I knew wealth before, but this is something else entirely.
My heart is thundering and it’s a fight to keep my breathing even and under control. I feel like a rookie right now, but in reality, I’m more on edge than I have ever been in my life. The one and only reason for my frantic pulse is the fact that I’m standing in the same house that Angel Valentino now resides in. She’s here… somewhere. I can feel her familiar presence all around and it chokes me. It smothers me to the point that I could throw up. My heart squeezes painfully because despite her treachery, I miss her. I miss her so much and it just makes me so fucking angry.
This right here is the reason I never let myself get close to anyone. I thought I saw something different in the bafflingly beautiful and badass girl that captured the hearts of the Brotherhood… but I was so fucking wrong about her. Looking through that phone of hers tore at something inside of me. A sliver of my soul crumbled away that night. She took a piece of me with her when she ran back to her father. A part of me still wonders why she stayed as long as she had. Once her objective was completed and our fathers were finally dead, what more did she have to gain by leading us on for six months? Why pretend to love us? Why the false fear? All of these questions fly through my brain as we find ourselves standing in the foyer of the most massive house I’ve ever seen.