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1
KILLIAN
The metallic scent of blood filled the air. I dab the open wound along my knuckles with an already bloodied towel. The man before me sits with his hands and feet bound to the metal chair, his face bloodied and beaten. One eye is already starting to swell, nearly closed. His nose is bent and cuts flayed across the skin at the bridge.
“I’m not going to ask again, Nick,” I growled, tipping the chair backward. I catch the back of it just before his head smashed against the sink. “Where the fuck is our money?”
“Y-you’ll get it. I swear,” Nick begs. “I just need one more week.”
I tsk. “You’ve already had an extra week. Time’s up. And I still don’t see those extra digits in my bank account.”
“Something came up. My shop was robbed. You have to understand.” I barely hear the words out of his mouth. It’s all just excuses anyway.
“Really? Because I thought you gave my money to the cartel.” Nick’s only good eye goes wide. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” Tossing the rag to one of my men, I turn away in disgust. “Again.”
I can hear Nick struggling behind me as my soldiers tip his chair back against the sink. Water splashes into the bowl until the struggling gurgles of our victim overpower even that. This is the sixth associate this week who has tried to break their contract. The sixth idiot who thought they could screw us over and get away with it.
The chair legs plunk back to the floor. Nick coughs, hacking water from his lungs as he tries to take a breath. I bide my time, letting him sit for a minute. Not to scare him, but to show him that I don’t give a fuck.
I hadn’t been born into this life like my brother. For years, I’d been kicked to the side, left on my own, while my father doted on his precious heir. It wasn’t until Sienna and Dante had promoted me to underboss that I’d finally gotten a taste of this world. But, whereas my brother had years to perfect the art of torture, of putting fear into the hearts of those who crossed him, I’d had to get it down in just a single year. Months of tagging along after my brother like a puppy dog just to learn everything from torture to manipulation and all the shit in between. And now, I’m finally on my own. Doing it my way.
Turning back to my latest victim, I smile. “I think we’re done here.”
“No! Wait.” Nick struggles weakly against the handcuffs. “I can give you information. Please.”
My smile freezes. “And what information could you give us? You’re just a fucking convenience store owner.” My men chuckle a bit at that.
“The Russians—” He’s still trying to save his pathetic life. How admirable. “—they’re planning something. Something big and—”
I’m already bored. With a wave of my hand, the towel is shoved back into his mouth, and he’s tipped back under the water. I grab another towel from the stainless steel counters. “Get rid of the body,” I tell the closest soldier.
Nick’s thrashing mutes the minute the door shuts behind me. As much as I’d wanted to prolong his pain, he isn’t the only business I have to attend to tonight. I make my way through the back of the club, passing the kitchens, the storage rooms, and the offices before finally heading out onto the main floor.
The club pulses with music, vibrating along my bones, darkness clinging to every corner. The bar is crowded, the dance floor even more so tonight. Bodies writhe in the open space, skin flashing beneath the strobes that hung above them. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and sin wraps around me, drawing me in.
To me, this is home.
Leaning against the rail of the second floor, my eyes scan the crowd below me. Tonight, I’m not here to join in on the fun. I’m here on business, and this is just one of the clubs on my list to check in on. Old Killian would have cracked open a bottle within seconds of arriving. But I’m not the Old Killian, and my responsibilities now mean too much to me to just fuck up.
Straightening my leather jacket, I turn away. The Arco Brothers lounge across the VIP couches, a glass in one hand and a woman on the other. Cain watches me, studying every tic, every movement with a scrutiny that often makes others feel uncomfortable. But I’ve known the bastard since we were kids.
Plus, now he works for me.
“Everything good, boss?” Cain asks, just a hint of sarcasm on the last word.
“Your DJ could be better,” I smirk, “but otherwise, things look just fine. As long as the books have been fixed, we should be good here.”
“I told you this club would be a good investment,” Declan mutters into his cup before taking a sip.
I ignore him. The brothers have been a huge help to us, but sometimes they like to test the limits of their new roles. Pull the leash a bit. Dante and Sienna are too lenient with them sometimes, simply because none of us would currently be here without their aid and information from when we had to deal with the Snake—a man who’d been hell-bent on destroying both the Rosania and Scarano families.
“I’ll go and get the reports,” Archer says, rising from the couch. He hands the woman closest to him his glass before disappearing down the steps.
After nearly half of our men had betrayed us to join the Snake, Sienna and Dante had to fill in the gaps—this time with more loyal recruits. The Arco brothers were some of the best in the business, never really tied down to any one criminal family. But they had no reason to join us. Not when half of our businesses were failing while they remained untouched.
Yet, while the Arco brothers were strong, they weren’t as big an organization as we were. In return for their loyalty, we gave them power—more than they’d ever had before. Board members of our shipping company, promotions for Capo, leading their own little regiment, the notoriety of our family name. While the Arco brothers had been well-off before, now they were set for life.
Cain leans forward, forcing the woman beside him to shift left, causing her to fall to the side. “How are things lately back in headquarters?” Dark eyes study me between the flashes of light.
