Chapter 3 – Alec
ALEC
My entire life, I’ve only let four people get close enough to know the real me.
The first was Ashton. After what happened with my parents, I spent years living on the streets, no better off than the rats that infest this city, fighting for every crumb of food and scrap of shelter I could find.
The orphanage wasn’t much of an improvement.
It was kill or be killed at a place like that.
At least it was for the lifers like me, the kids no one would ever want, with no hope of adoption or a happily ever after. The broken children.
Ashton was different. He wasn’t broken, not fully. He got the attention the rest of us craved, landing himself a foster family after only a few months in the system.
And another after that.
And another.
No matter how many times he forced them to bring him back to the orphanage, the universe still gave him another shot.
Ashton had a thousand chances at a happier life, a life with a new family, and he turned his back on each and every one of them.
Every time he left, I knew it was only a matter of time before he came strutting back through those iron gates, kicked out of another home and coming back to the only person he really cared about.
His brother.
I hated him for that. Hated the kid who blew every chance he had to get out of our prison.
The kid who learned to fight young, who grew faster than any of the other orphans, who stole food whenever he could, even if it meant less for the rest of us.
Hated him because he had something I so desperately wanted. He had a friend. A brother.
Family.
Sebastian was such a scrawny little thing back then, a bespectacled kid with a stutter living in his brother’s shadow. Ashton did everything he could to keep them together, to keep his brother safe.
Even back then, even when I hated him, I respected that. Envied it.
And respect eventually gave way to a begrudging alliance. And then a friendship.
And then one day, I realized he had become my brother too, and when Ashton kept coming back to the orphanage, it wasn’t just for Sebastian.
By the time Viper found us, the three of us were inseparable, bonded by something much stronger than blood. And Viper?
How could we not love Viper, even in the beginning? Broken, damaged Viper. The kid no one wanted, the kid who went through hell and managed to survive, the one they frequently had to chain up to keep his violent outbursts contained.
He fit right in with us.
And that’s all I ever needed. Sure, I’ve dallied with women, even kept a few around long enough they thought we were something more than we were. But none of them came close to knowing me. None of them were anything more than a fun way to pass the time.
Until Sydney.
It’s been one week since I last saw her. One week since I held her in my arms, since I felt her body shake and quiver as she came around my cock.
One week, and every second of it since she found that ring has been a nightmare.
That fucking ring. Worthless even before I took it off and shoved it in a drawer, all those years ago.
It cost me everything. It cost me Sydney.
She was finally mine—finally ours—and I ruined it.
I wish I had done more that night to explain, to make her stay, but that look in her eyes when she left still haunts me. The pain, the betrayal.
Don’t ever contact me again, she’d spat at me. And I knew she meant it, knew she’d hate me for reaching out to her again.
But that wasn’t enough to keep me away.
I sent her a single message, the night she left, trying to explain everything. She still hasn’t responded to it. Maybe she never read it, never will. Maybe she doesn’t believe me. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
It doesn’t matter. I feel lost without her. Untethered.
Ashton says she wants to be left alone. That she doesn’t want to see any of us right now.
Fine. I’ll give her space, give her time, give her whatever she needs, even if every second I’m not with her feels like I’m suffocating.
I’ll wait for her. Wait the rest of my miserable life, if I need to, until she’s ready to talk.
Even if there’s a part of me—an unrecognizable part—that wants to go to her right now, wants to be in front of her, groveling on my knees and begging for forgiveness.
I glance over at my brothers. They look just as miserable as I do.
Ashton hasn’t been sleeping, has barely been showering.
His blonde hair is limp and unwashed, his eyes hollow and dull.
I heard from his manager that he’s been missing sessions with his trainer and dropping weight. He looks about ready to shatter.
And Sebastian?
Even Sebastian looks like a ghost. There are dark shadows under his eyes, visible even through his glasses, and a coiled, almost frantic energy to the way he moves that wasn’t there a week ago.
A nervous tick to his muscles. As I watch, he runs a hand through his dark hair, then does it again, almost like he can’t stand to be still.
He blames himself, thinks he’s the reason she won’t see any of us. They still don’t know I’m the one who fucked it all up. They don’t know I ruined everything.
More lies.
More fucking secrets.
I drop into my office chair and let the weight of it all settle over my shoulders. Every mistake I’ve made, every secret I’m keeping, presses down on me, pushing me closer to hell.
Sebastian glares at where Ashton sits on the couch, hunched over his phone.
“Put your phone away,” he says, his lip curling. Ashton ignores him, his leg bouncing rapidly.
“Girls like jokes, right?” Ashton asks, staring down at his phone screen. “What’s a good joke?”
“Knock knock,” Sebastian deadpans.
Ashton types. “Who’s there?”
“A pathetic loser who doesn’t know when to stop.”
Ashton’s fingers tap audibly against his phone screen. When they finally pause, he frowns, glancing up at his brother. “A pathetic loser who doesn’t know when to stop, who?”
Sebastian snorts a laugh, shaking his head. “Christ, you are such a fucking idiot.”
“Oh, I’m the idiot? You suck at jokes, you know that, Doc?” Ashton grumbles. “That one doesn’t even make any sense.”
“That’s enough,” I tell him, my voice too sharp. Both of them look at me. “Put your phone away, Ash.”
“Whatever. It’s not like she’s answering any of them anyway,” he mutters, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“We’re not here to talk about Sydney,” I remind them. I can’t. Even now, when I can’t stop thinking about her, when she occupies my every waking thought, I can’t talk about her.
Because I had her, had everything I ever wanted, and I lost it.
“We’re here to talk about business,” I say to the room, trying to corral the spiraling feeling inside me into something useful. “I want an update on what’s going on in Empire City.”
“We’re losing ground there,” Sebastian answers. His finger taps a rapid beat against his thigh. It’s frenetic, unconscious. I doubt he even realizes he’s doing it. “And there’s fuck-all we can do about it unless we’re willing to dedicate more of our men to seeking out the problem.”
“And why aren’t we doing that?” I ask with a growl.
“Because we’re stretched too thin already.” Tap, tap, tap. “And until we get that shipment of weapons from Tony, we risk being outgunned.”
My jaw tightens until it hurts. “Give me some good news.”
“How cute that you think I have any,” Sebastian says with a brittle smile. “I’m fresh out of good news.”
“Then give me the bad news.”
He won’t look at me when he answers. His eyes are glued to a point just to the right of my face, staring out at the city skyline through the windows at my back. “Oscuro had their liquor license pulled last night.”
Fuck. The last bit of my calm evaporates, my hands clenching on my desk.
Oscuro is supposed to be the cornerstone of our next phase of expansion here in Fortune City.
When it opens, it will be the largest nightclub on the West Coast, nine full floors of sin operating independently, each with its own theme and catering to a different sort of clientele, ensuring that any patron who steps through those doors is sure to find something they’ll enjoy.
And on the top floor? A special, VIP-access sex club designed by Francesca herself, made to satisfy any and all vices a select, approved clientele could ask for.
Oscuro is set to be my crowning achievement here, with financial projections suggesting the income it stands to generate for Sterling Enterprises could rival even our biggest casinos.
And why not, when the seventh floor will have its own gambling parlor, complete with high-end poker games and roulette?
But no one will be lining up for opening night at a nightclub that can’t legally serve alcohol.
“How the hell did this happen?” I demand. Sebastian’s eyes flick to mine and away again. “We just got word that the liquor board approved the license last week.”
“And the city council pulled it,” Sebastian says grimly. “They’re claiming the building isn’t zoned for selling liquor.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
A full year. A full year of land purchases, of planning and building, all of it above board. Only to be told at the last minute that this area isn’t zoned for it?
“We own the council,” Ashton says, brows drawing together incredulously. “Why would they—”
“Someone paid them off,” I surmise, the words flat and cold.
Sebastian nods, just once.
“Handle this,” I order him. “Find out who flipped on us.”
“I already did.” A dark smile twitches at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. “Viper is picking them up as we speak.”