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But she did need us—even when we couldn't directly keep an eye on her.
Thanks to my father and his asinine rules we had to cut off contact after an attempt on my father’s life and mine. From then on out, he insisted on bodyguards to protect us. So, we were cut off from the world around us. Only keeping her safe from afar and in secret.
Although there was a top-rated private school with the city’s wealthiest children wandering the halls, my father sent us to public schools, giving us access to potential threats and future customers. This worked out incredibly well for protecting Journey. Throughout school, we fought off her bullies in the shadows until they didn't exist anymore. Everyone knew she was off limits—untouchable. Ours. Only, she wasn't in on the secret.
That was, until she turned sixteen. That's when everything seemed to change. She changed... walking the halls like the haunted version of herself after being missing for six months. According to her records, she rotted at a military school for a crime I'm not sure she committed. Little Journey West got busted for robbing a convenience store. Or did she?
Conveniently, every file on Journey West went missing at the same time she disappeared. Every day in the halls, we searched for her high and low. After school, we asked around. Yet, nothing was found except a single record pointing to her punishment.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
Every day that she was missing drove us insane. She was no longer at our fingertips. We could no longer protect her from where we were. We were in the goddamn mafia and yet, no one had answers for us. Not our PI or lawyer. Nothing we did brought her back. Then she walked through the school doors with a blank expression and silent wounds. Our bodyguards still lurked around us, protecting us from unseen enemies, so we still couldn’t speak to her and figure out what happened. Not that she would have told us. She talked to no one.
That day, everything changed for us, too.
I take a deep breath, trying to keep the words at bay. How can I explain to them how I'm feeling? The mere thought of leaving her vulnerable again has my stomach twisting into knots. We're so close to the end of training, still unable to watch her 24/7, and she's finishing her last few weeks of school until she graduates and leaves for good.
Only three more weeks.
She's ours.
Now, it's time to take our place with my father and join his ranks for good.
We'll wait for her.
We have to.
Because she's our future wife.
"I'm acting like a man desperate enough to march in there and take what I want for once in my damn life. Don't you understand?" My chest heaves as I rein my anger back in again. Shepp deflates beside me, nodding in understanding. A look of resignation takes him over. "Together?"
Something flickers in him. Maybe memories of that fateful night. Maybe it's the realization that our allegiance is to each other and the allies we're building together. Our brotherhood is more important than the promise to keep our virtue intact until our initiation night.
Our soldiers. Our kingdom. Not my father's. Not his rules. He's taken enough from me. From Shepp. Arrow couldn't give a shit about my father. He may have trained him from the moment he landed in his lap, guiding him through the incessant call for blood and helping to shape Arrow into who he is now. But Arrow’s loyalties lie with Shepp and I. We are his brothers. A family together.
"You in?" I ask, looking at Shepp and Arrow, who both gaze at our girl continuing to dance.
Arrow whoops, tossing me a manic grin. "I've always told you, your dad's barbaric ass rules were dumb. If I want to stick my dick in our woman, then I will. It'll only aid in my murder sprees." He rubs his hands together like he's planning something.
Maybe getting laid would chill his bloodlust out.
Shepp growls when a guy approaches Journey, putting his hands on her ass. His bulky muscles tighten, and his jaw tics until she pushes the man away and flips him off.
Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of him later. Draven Croathers. Eighteen. High society member and son to two fuck wits. Comes to my club, Rave, often. Drinks. Dances. Yeah. I'll remember those nuggets for later.
‘Yes. Fuck the family,’ Shepp signs with renewed venom. ‘Fuck our promise.’ He runs his finger across his throat, signaling their death.
That seals it. Screw the pledge we made on our knees when we began training for our roles in the Viotto Family. Like every man before us, we promised ourselves wholly and truly to the Viotto name, dedicating every second to the family. No distractions. No women. Nothing in our way. How'd he know? Well, he has his spies. That we're sure of. He seems to have eyes on every surface of this city, especially on his new recruits training beneath his men.
But right now? I don’t fucking care. Chloe Satin’s name rings in the back of my head. As does my father’s conversation from earlier. I’ve waited years to claim Journey as my own. I intended to wait until my father gave me the green light, like the dutiful son I pretended to be. But I won’t anymore. I can’t. She’s mine and was always meant to be. So, tonight, we’re taking what we want, when we want it. Fuck the consequences.
"You're to keep your dicks in your pants. No parties. No girls." My father shakes his head, pacing in front of us. "Your focus is on this family. And when the time comes, you'll marry." He stops short, looking us over as we kneel on the cement floor of the church he's dragged us to. "Your full cooperation goes to the family!" he shouts, holding his arms wide, gesturing to the men in suits around us, watching as we swear ourselves in. “Do not disobey the simple rules given to you. Or your place with us will be cut short. We have our ways. We’ll know if you step out. Step out and you forfeit your lives.”
"Yes, Sir," Arrow and I say in unison, while Shepp nods in agreement.
"Then let the training begin. For the next few years, you'll be the family's property. You'll shadow our every move, strengthening yourselves. Gun training, endurance, gathering information and answers. You're ours." His grin intensifies. "In five years, you'll return to this room on your knees and pledge yourselves to the Viotto Family. You'll seal your fates with a slash across the chest. Blood spilled. Blood pact."
Hearing my father say those words nearly five years ago made my blood boil. He planned my whole life for me from the moment I took my first breath outside the womb. Then, he expected me to marry some girl just to further our connections and allies?
