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Chapter Four
When they decided totake matters into their own hands and deal with the Morgan Jules situation by themselves, Justin Candler and his partners and best friends had no idea a strange but very pretty girl, dressed in a bathrobe and naked beneath with her hair standing on end as if she had been electrocuted, would walk in on them.
He took his time analyzing her. Was she a spy? Was she working with Jules? Was her deer caught in the headlights act just that, an act?
There was no way Jules was working alone. The scale of his transgression was phenomenal. Yet he didn’t belong to any organization, any mafia unit. He wasn’t even working undercover for any law enforcement. He must have had help. though.
Was she his femme fatal?
He glanced over at Ian and Drake, and they seemed to share the same sentiments about her. She confused them. Which was a rare occurrence. They had enough street-smart training, and experience to size people up immediately, but they couldn’t seem to get a read on the dark-haired girl before them.
But there was something else going on with her that hit them differently. Something they weren’t accustomed to but which affected all three the same way.
What the fuck?
At the age of thirty-five, he thought his days of being surprised were over. And nothing had surprised him... until now.
Growing up on the streets and then being placed in an orphanage robbed Justin of everything innocent in his childhood. He had seen things no child should have to at the orphanage where it was survival of the fittest.
But it was also where he had met his best friends, his foster brothers, the men he would die for. Ian Sanson and Drake Litton, all within the same age bracket, early to mid-thirties, with Justin the oldest, were the only men he trusted.
They had saved each other's lives more times than they could count and had protected each other against bullies twice their age when they were barely ten years old themselves.
They had survived. But it had come with a price. By the time they had reached the thirteen-year age mark, a crime lord had come by the orphanage shopping for boys he could train to do his dirty work for him.
He had picked Justin, Ian, and Drake at first glance, without a question asked. He had called their arrogance intelligence, their fearlessness power. He had molded them to the exact degree of violence he required, stealth to go undetected, and the ability to withstand unspeakable forms of torture without giving up anything.
They had had many opportunities to slit his throat when he slept at night. Or take the hundreds of thousands of dollars he kept in his safe at home that Ian could break into with his eyes closed. But they didn’t for some reason. Yet they all knew what that reason was. Who were they going to be if they had their freedom?
Whatever fate had set out in their paths had their parents not been so neglectful, discarding them to the street as if they were bags of garbage, had been changed. They were who they were because of the lives they had led.
Nothing could change that.
So, they stayed. And when Antonio DeMarco, better known as The Don died, he had left his entire multi-billion dollar empire to the three of them. The Don’s business interests ranged from legitimate mining ventures, which they closed, to trading arms and collecting protection fees from tiny little countries The Don could wipe out if he so chose.
He had sat at the tables of presidents and that of the world’s most wanted criminals. And for the last ten years, Justin, Ian, and Drake had done the same. As a trio, exactly how The Don had instructed on his dying bed.
