18. 18 Tori
18: Tori
It’s been just over a day since the boys accepted that I’m part of this. Not a bystander. Not a fragile little thing they have to shield. They’re not happy about it—they’d probably wrap me in bubble wrap if they thought I’d sit still long enough—but at least they’ve stopped arguing. They know I’m not backing down.
After everything Nico did to me, sitting back and letting someone else fight my battles isn’t something I'm going to let happen.
This is my fight too.
And when I find Nico, I’m cutting his fucking dick off.
Slowly .
Rusty scissors, no anesthesia.
Maybe I’ll even set it on fire, just for fun.
I’ve spent enough time in this world of mobs and gangs to know how it works. You don’t get to sit on the sidelines and wait for someone to swoop in and fix everything. You take what matters into your own hands, or it gets ripped away.
I’m done being the victim. I’m done waiting for the universe to throw me a bone.
After that moment with Thorne—when he pushed me against the wall and took me raw and brutal—it cemented something in me. I’m ready. Ready to show Nico exactly who he’s dealing with.
Last night, while I was lying in bed—staring at the ceiling like some insomniac vampire—I remembered something small: I have Diablo’s number. He'd given it to me during the meeting with Nico, but I was too busy pretending I wasn’t terrified to pay attention to it.
Calling Diablo wasn’t just reckless—it was beyond stupid. I mean, let’s be honest, I’ve made some dumb choices in my life, but this one takes the cake. Still, something in me wouldn’t let it go. A little voice whispered that this was the only way. We needed his help.
I didn’t tell the boys. Not at first.
They were out running down leads on Nico’s associates when I locked myself in a closet—because apparently, I make all my best decisions surrounded by winter coats—and dialed the number. My heart was pounding so loudly I could barely hear the rings.
He answered on the second one, his voice low and sharp, sending a chill straight through me. “Who is this?”
“It’s me. Your, uh… daughter,” I said, so fucking awkwardly I physically cringe. “I need your help. Can I come tomorrow?”
Silence stretched long enough that I thought he’d hung up. Then, finally, he spoke. One word: “Tomorrow.”
Interesting man, this father of mine.
Nico thinks he has the upper hand, but if I can reach Diablo at this meeting and explain what's really going on, maybe I can turn the tables.
So here we are, driving to his estate as demanded. Asses puckered, hearts hammering, stomachs twisting. The boys are still in over-protective mode, so guns were checked and double-checked, but I still didn't get one of my own.
“You don’t know how to shoot, Tori,” Ryder said earlier, smirking in that way he does when he’s barely holding it together. “Knowing you, you’d miss and hit one of us.”
Rude. Accurate, but rude.
They’re terrified. I can see it in the tightness of Thorne’s jaw, the way Ryder can’t sit still, and Blaze’s constant scanning of the windows. But they’re holding it together for me. For us. To their credit, they only argued about this meeting for twenty minutes before caving, which honestly might be a record.
New achievement unlocked.
Cue Zelda music. Specifically, when Link opens a chest and gets a new item.
The second we step into Diablo’s estate, the air changes. It’s heavier, colder, charged with something that makes my skin crawl. Everything is pristine—the floors, the walls, the men standing guard. But it’s the kind of pristine that feels fake, like a fresh coat of paint slapped on a rotting house. Every inch of this place screams power, wealth, and death.
This is a bad idea. A very, very bad idea.
Don’t start panicking now, Tori. You literally just got here.
Thorne walks beside me, calm and steady, like nothing could rattle him. But I know him well enough by now to see the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes scan the room like he’s already planning how to get us out if things go sideways. Ryder’s a few steps ahead, his usual cocky swagger masking the way his hand keeps twitching. And Blaze… well, Blaze is just Blaze. Quiet, focused, stoic. My stomach twists as we walk deeper into the house.
Keep it together, Tori. Don’t lose your shit now.
And then, like clockwork, everything goes to hell.
Two of Diablo’s men grab Thorne, yanking him back with enough force to make my stomach drop. Another pair tackles Ryder, dragging him away, while two more descend on Blaze. He barely gets a chance to react before they have him pinned.
And me? A hand clamps around my wrist like a steel trap, jerking me so hard I stumble.
No. No. Not again.
I thrash against the hold, twisting and pulling, but it’s like trying to fight a brick wall. My wrist feels like it’s going to snap under the pressure. Panic surges through me, fast and suffocating, as I watch the boys being dragged farther away.
My chest tightens.
I can’t breathe.
Fight, Tori. Fight.
“Stop!” I shout, twisting in the man’s hold, but the words feel useless. It’s like my voice doesn’t matter.
Thorne’s eyes meet mine for a split second, and I see the frustration, the anger. He’s not just being pulled away—he’s fighting it, too. But it’s no use. They’ve got him locked in, just like they’ve got Ryder, just like they’ve got Blaze.
I act without thinking, like always, throwing my body into the man holding me, putting all my weight into trying to break free. But he barely flinches. I twist my wrist, desperate, using every ounce of strength to get away.
By some miracle—or sheer stubbornness—his grip slips. I stumble forward, my heart pounding in my ears, and sprint toward the boys.
I don’t even know what I’m doing. I just know that I’m not going to let them take the only people I love. My arms shoot out in front of me, hands trembling as I try to block their path, standing between them and the guns now pointed at their heads by Diablo’s men, like I’m some kind of idiot shield.
“You’ll have to shoot me first,” I say, louder than I intended, my voice cracking with the weight of everything.
Oh, yeah. Great plan. Stand in front of Diablo’s men like they won’t blow through you, too .
The men stop. They don’t move, and neither does Diablo. His eyes flick to mine, then to the boys, then back at me. I feel his gaze on me like a physical thing, heavy and unrelenting.
“What is this?” Diablo says, his voice low, like he’s trying to piece together some puzzle. “You’re protecting them?”
“Yes. I’m protecting them.” I don’t quite get why this surprises him so much. At least not until it dawns on me.
I should get an Oscar. Or is it a Grammy? Either way, it seems my acting skills are way too fucking good.
He actually believes I love Nico.
“The guys I truly love are the ones I’m willing to take a bullet for. Nico is nothing more than a lying piece of shit who was holding me hostage and making me do whatever he wanted by threatening my friend. So, go ahead and try me. Shoot!”
For a moment, Diablo doesn’t speak. He just stares at me and I stand there, arms still outstretched, my body tense, my breath shaky. Every muscle in my body screams at me to move, to back down, but I can’t.
I won't lose them.
Diablo’s eyes narrow as he takes a slow step forward. There’s doubt in his gaze—he’s questioning whether what I’m saying is true. Whether I’m really willing to do this.
And I really am.
The realization is daunting, but I don't move. I stand very still, my heart pounding, every second feeling like a lifetime. The men around me don’t move, and neither does Diablo. He’s not even blinking, just staring at me like he’s trying to figure out how much of this is a lie.
Great, another staring contest.
I'm getting good at these.
He shifts slightly, his voice lowering to a deadly whisper that cuts through the room. “Fine. Shoot through her if you have to.”
The command is calm, casual even, like he didn’t just order his daughter dead. I am a stranger after all, so can I really put it past him? I hear the click of weapons being raised, the deadly sounds of them locking into place, the cold steel pointing straight at my chest. The silence that follows is deafening.
My breath catches, and for the first time in this entire twisted ordeal, panic rips through me. This is it. This is how I die. I can already picture it—the cold, sharp pain of the bullet tearing through me, the sensation of my life draining away.
It would be easy. So easy.
I can’t make myself move. The instinct to run, to duck, to drop to the floor, is strong, but I’m still standing there, arms spread wide, blocking the men holding guns.
I’d die for them. For Thorne. For Ryder. For Blaze.
The thought hits me like a tidal wave, crashing over me with the force of everything I’ve never said.
I love them . All three of them .
I love Thorne, with his quiet strength, his unspoken care that I’ve come to rely on more than I ever expected. I love Blaze, with his rare, gentle touches, the kind that make me feel seen in a world where I’m often overlooked. And Ryder, with the way he cracks jokes even in the worst situations just to ease my worries or hear me laugh.
I would die for them. Right here. Right now. Not because I have to, but because they’ve become the center of everything I’ve ever wanted. They’re my heart, my reason, my family. In this moment, standing between them and death, I know with every inch of my soul that I would give everything to protect them.
I close my eyes, feeling the coldness of Diablo’s gaze still fixed on me. My heart hammers in my chest, but I stay still, my arms unwavering. My body is trembling with the fear of what could happen, but I won’t move. I can’t.
I’d die for them .
It’s not just words. It’s truth. It’s the core of everything I feel for them. This twisted, dark, impossible love that’s grown between us. They are my family now, my reason to keep fighting.
If this is the price I have to pay, then so be it.
Just as the tension reaches a breaking point, I hear Diablo’s voice again, low and final.
“That’s enough.”
The order is simple, sharp, and the weight of it makes my heart stop for a beat. Slowly, almost in unison, the men lower their weapons, the cold barrels now pointed at the floor instead of at us.
It was a test. A scary fucking test.
Is this how he plays chicken?
The relief is almost too much, and I finally let my arms drop slightly, feeling the exhaustion in my bones. Diablo doesn’t say anything for a while. I can still feel his gaze on me, but it’s different now. It’s not filled with suspicion or judgment. It’s something else. Something I can’t quite place.
“You’ve got guts, Mija,” Diablo says, his voice rough with what I can only guess is respect. "Most wouldn’t have stood up to me like that, let alone stay standing with guns pointed at them. You’re willing to protect what you love. I believe you.”
He steps back, motioning to his men to move aside. The atmosphere in the room eases, but I don’t let myself relax. Not yet.
“Nico…” Diablo curses his name, his voice low, his anger evident. “That son of a bitch has been playing everyone.”
The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface now erupts in full force. His eyes flash with fury, twitching the scar above his brow. Diablo snaps his fingers dismissively as he orders his men.
“Release them.”
The men holding Thorne, Ryder, and Blaze let go without hesitation, letting them rise to their feet and to my side in an instant. The feel of their close proximity allows me to finally let go.
“Nico will pay for what he's done. But it’s not my job to get your revenge.” His eyes meet mine, and I can see the truth in them. "That’s yours.”
I can get behind this, because it’s literally what I’ve been saying.
This is on me now.
“You can have whatever you need from me,” Diablo says, his voice low and dangerous. “My empire is at your disposal. All you need to do is say the word.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
This is what I wanted, isn't it? His help.
But it suddenly feels as if saying the word will seal my fate. Like I’m signing some unseen contract, accepting that I’m really his daughter, that this will one day be my life, my empire to rule.
Diablo’s eyes lock onto mine, holding me there, letting me know he means it. I take a slow, steadying breath.
It’s my turn.
My fucking turn to call the shots, to make the damn rules for once.
I meet his gaze, my heart racing but my mind made up. “Okay, give me what you got,” I say, my voice quiet but sure.
Diablo's expression shifts, his gaze sharp as it settles on me. The intensity in his eyes is almost predatory, like he's finally found the piece to the puzzle he's been missing. His lips curl into something like a satisfied smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I knew you had it in you," he murmurs, his voice smooth, dangerous. "Then let's make sure it’s done right.
“To help, you’ll need someone who knows how to handle business on my end.” He waves his hand toward the door, and a man steps forward from the shadows, broad-shouldered and built like a fucking wall.
“This is Juan,” Diablo says. “He’s one of my best. A lieutenant in my crew. From this point on, he’s yours. He’ll be your liaison, your bodyguard. Everything you need from the Diablos will go through him.”
Juan's voice drops to a respectful tone as he meets my eyes, something almost reverent behind his gaze. “Anything you need, senorita .”
Juan stands tall, his broad shoulders taking up more space than necessary, like he’s always ready to shield someone. His short, dark hair is neatly combed, but a few stray strands of gray hair hint to his age. His jawline is sharp, covered in a day’s stubble that gives him a rugged edge, but his eyes soften whenever they meet mine—something steady and reassuring behind them.
His arms, thick with muscle, are marked with tattoos of past tales. He doesn’t need to say much for me to know he’s got my back, no questions asked. It’s a very strange feeling to have from one single interaction.
I give Diablo a slow nod. “Thank you.”
Diablo’s grin deepens, satisfaction creeping across his face. “Good. Now go. Make your plans, and make them good.”
My blood surges, a mixture of adrenaline and that cold fire of rage that’s been simmering in my veins.
You used me like a pawn in your game, Nico.
Now, it’s my turn to play.
We step outside, with Juan following closely behind, his footsteps heavy against the marbled floor. He doesn’t rush, just calmly trails like a silent guard.
When we reach the car, he speaks, his deep voice cutting through the quiet night. “I’ll follow you in my car.”
“Thanks,” I nod, unsure of what else to say.
He walks toward a sleek black Lincoln as we pile into the car we came in. The engine starts with a smooth hum, and for a brief second, I almost feel like I can breathe again.
The drive back to Keagan’s place feels like an eternity. Thorne’s driving is sharp and fast, with a quiet rage that simmers beneath his skin. I can tell his mind is still racing—processing everything that went down.
He was powerless in there.
They all were.
Ryder’s a little more relaxed in the front seat, but I can feel his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every now and then, checking on me like he’s making sure I’m still intact, still here and not about to disappear like a mirage. Blaze, however, just sits there. Silent. Still. Like the whole thing didn’t even happen.
We’ve all been quiet for the past few minutes, the silence physically hurting my ears at this point. Until Blaze finally breaks it, his voice low, gravelly—so damn serious I barely recognize it. “What you did back there... in front of Diablo’s men...” he pauses, letting his words hang in the air, and for a split second, I wonder if he’s angry.
I look up at him, but I can’t read his expression—he’s too guarded. His eyes are intense, sure, but there’s something else I’m not seeing. His hand shifts slightly, like he’s about to reach out for me but stops himself.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he continues, voice clipped but steady. “It was... brave. But you’re not invincible, Tori. You can’t just throw yourself in the line of fire like that.”
I know it’s not a criticism. It’s not blame. It’s worry. Blaze’s usual control is slipping, just for a moment. I can feel it in the way he's watching me, like he wants to pull me close, but also like he wants to push me away, to stop me from doing something so stupid… so… me.
Thorne’s eyes flick to Blaze in the rearview, then to me. “You realize you could’ve died, right?” His voice is quiet, but his jaw is clenched. “We don’t need you to play hero.”
I’m not sure how to respond, not sure what they want me to say. So, instead, I lean back against the seat, trying to seem casual even though my heart’s still racing from everything. “Well, what was I supposed to do? Let you all die for me?”
Ryder glances over his shoulder at me, that cocky grin of his reappearing. “You’re a hell of a lot more than we bargained for, Tori.” There’s a softness there, underneath his usual sarcasm, like he’s proud. “I think we’ve all underestimated you.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head. “Yeah, I’m a real hero, aren’t I?”
But even as I say it, I can feel the heat of the moment, the adrenaline still pulsing through my veins. There’s something inside me now, something that’s never been there before—something that makes me want to prove I’m not just some weak, meager girl. It makes me want to stand beside them, not behind them.
Blaze’s gaze softens as I stare back at him, his mouth quirking up into that rare but unmistakable half-smile. “You know, we’ve all got our own ways of protecting what we love,” he says quietly, his voice lower than before, more tender. “You’ve got yours, and we’ve got ours. But that doesn’t mean you get to go throwing yourself in front of bullets, Doll.”
I can feel the seriousness of his words seep into me, into my very bones. But before I can say anything else, the car jerks slightly as Thorne turns down a narrow street, and suddenly, I’m caught off guard as Blaze shifts closer. His fingers brush against mine, just a simple touch, but it feels like a spark igniting inside me.
“You’ve got us. All three of us,” Blaze adds, his voice barely above a whisper now, low and intimate.
I don’t know what it is about the way he says that, but it’s like my heart just got jump started. I’m about to respond when suddenly the car jerks to a stop, the engine quieting as Thorne turns the ignition off.
“We’re here,” he says, the finality in his voice cutting through the moment. Thorne opens his door first, hopping out, and Ryder follows suit. I'm about to do the same, but it seems Blaze isn’t done with me yet.
Before I can even take a breath, his hand is at my waist, pulling me closer, until his lips are brushing my ear, his voice low and barely audible. “I want to thank you, Tori.” He lifts me onto his lap, spreading my legs over him as his mouth comes up to mine with a hunger I’ve never felt before. It’s slow at first—tender, controlled—but the pressure of his body against mine makes my heart skip a beat.
“Blaze,” I murmur against his lips, but I can’t say anything else before his hands are on me, his touch almost frantic, like he’s been holding back too long. He’s kissing me with a need that leaves me breathless, his tongue flicking against mine with desperation.
His hands are everywhere—pulling at my clothes with a hungry need. He’s not wasting time, not bothering with formalities. His lips are on mine, hot and needy, pulling me closer as his hands move swiftly to the hem of my skirt.
The fabric rides up my thighs, and I feel the cool air against my exposed skin, but Blaze’s touch is anything but cold. His breath is ragged as his fingers slip between my thighs and push my panties aside.
“Blaze,” I gasp, a soft whimper escaping me as I feel the pressure building inside me, already too much and not enough at the same time.
He doesn’t pause. His hands are strong as he shifts me slightly, lifting my hips, his breath against my neck hot and steady. His other hand works at his pants, pulling his fly down with one quick motion, shimmying them down just enough to free himself. I can feel the roughness of his jeans against the sensitive skin of my thighs as he shifts beneath me, and then he’s there, hard and hot, pressing against me.
I brace my hands against the backseat, my fingers digging into the upholstery as I feel him slide into me, slowly at first, giving me just enough time to adjust to the overwhelming heat of him.
I can’t hold back the gasp that escapes me, feeling him fill me, inch by inch, until we’re fully connected. My body tenses, and then I move—slow at first, but the urgency is there. My body reacts to him in ways that make it impossible to stop.
Blaze groans beneath me, his hands gripping my hips tightly, guiding me, pushing me faster. The car rocks slightly as I move against him, and I can hear the soft sounds of our breaths, desperate, ragged. He’s kissing me again, his mouth searing against mine, and I lose myself in the rhythm, in the sensation of him filling me completely.
His hands are firm, controlling my pace, pulling me down harder with every thrust. The friction builds, my breath hitching in my throat as I move faster, feeling the orgasm build in a way that I can’t fight. His hands are on my back, pulling me closer, his body pressed against mine as we move together in a frenzy.
And then it hits me. The wave of pleasure crashes over me, the world blurring as I fall apart in his arms. My body trembles with the force of it, my head falling back as I let go, feeling Blaze’s hands steady me, his breath hot against my skin. I can hear him groaning beneath me, his own release following right behind mine, his hands gripping me tighter as his body tenses.
For a moment, everything fades. There’s nothing but us, the car, the steady rise and fall of our breathing, and Thorne and Ryder watching the car in the distance. I can feel his heart beating against mine, the warmth of his body still pressed against me as I rest my head on his shoulder.
Blaze’s fingers slide softly through my hair, his touch gentle now. “You’re something else, you know that?” His voice is rough but affectionate, and I smile, still trying to catch my breath.
I glance up at him, a teasing smile on my lips despite the intimacy of the moment. “What, you didn’t think I had it in me?”
He chuckles, the sound low and rich. “You’ve got more in you than I expected.”
I laugh softly, but the warmth between us lingers, unspoken but felt in every touch. And for a moment, everything is perfect. Just the two of us, everything else forgotten.