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Prudence smiled wide. At least she looked like she had good intentions. “Remember, surrender to the cards you are dealt and everything will fall into place. Your future is bright, my dear.”
Besides the Devil’s card that prominently spoke of my lack of fulfillment in life, the rest of the reading fell dull to my ears. None of it resonated and it wasn’t Prudence’s fault.
The cards had no idea.
The Hill women were cursed with never finding true love and I was no different.
There was no man in my future. Nor did I believe in the concept of love—not for me anyway. I was destined to do other great things, but not settle down and get married.
What was in my future, though?
Candied apples and a night filled with the feeling of home as I watched fireworks alongside my best friends.
CHAPTER 2
Violent Musings
Zeno
“You didn’t think this through, Zeno,” Benjamin, my younger brother, said with a frantic voice as the whole family ate dinner on a quiet Thursday night.
I didn’t look at him.
My gaze was fixed on my father, who lounged lazily like a retired Kingpin on his throne, puffing on a cigar in true mob fashion as he watched me intently.
Yves sat on one end of the table while I sat on the other extremity, swirling my glass of Pinot Noir. Two generations—two heirs—breaking bread as we entered a transitioning period where power would be shifted into the hands of the one that many De la Croixes deemed a charlatan.
Yves De la Croix wasn’t reluctant to hand over control, but he did contemplate how his life would alter once I took over the seat as the next heir.
And myself—I was all too willing to grasp my rightful place amongst those who thought I was nothing but smoke and mirrors to show them that being a De la Croix wasn’t just about the name. It was about strength, resilience, and loyalty. Three things I’d embodied my whole life.
Yves backed down from our stare down and cut a sharp look towards his youngest son. “It’s done, Ben. Drop it.”
“Drop it?” Benjamin repeated incredulously. He stabbed his steak with his cutlery. “Cops have been circling us all day,papa. I saw them lingering outside of the office building and they even stopped me for a ‘routine’ check-up this morning. They know we’re linked to Armel Lancaster’s hit.”
“I was careful, Ben. I always am,” I drawled, taking a sip of my wine. It soaked my palate with notes of spice and cherry. “And you got stopped because you drive that yellow Maserati around town like an imbecile who just got his license.”
“Zeno,” he growled, shoveling his fingers through his blond hair. “You’re not understanding the magnitude of the situation. They. Know. Something.”
Despite his worry, I threw him a levelling look.
Benjamin was everything light with his Prince Charming looks, while I was shadow with black hair and dark eyes.
We didn’t share the same blood, but he was my family through and through, and I knew he was doing his best to look out for me. He always had and he always would.
“You’re being paranoid, Ben,” Yves said mildly. “In our line of business, we are always circled by vultures. This is no different than before.”
Hailing from France nearly two hundred years ago, the De la Croix name was tied with nobility, generational wealth, and power beyond comprehension.
The family business—De la Croix Inc—was an affluent European brand that specialized in weapons. We were renowned for our infamous guns and combat knives, which were sought by many organizations across the globe. In the eyes of the law, our front was iron-clad and legitimate.
Behind closed doors, however, the De la Croixes were part of a well-connected criminal syndicate spanning from Central Canada all the way to Europe. Our distribution channels allowed us to move many illegal goods and illicit substances. In Montardor’s underworld, there were many chess players, yet we were the reigning crime family.
This city ultimately belonged to us.
The men who were initiated swore to abide by our three pillars—loyalty, devotion, honour—and to obey every rule and command doled out by theseigneur, who was the leader of our organization.
Those who betrayed us would find themselves with three bullets in their skulls and the customary cross carved into their chests.
