Chapter Four
Emerson
“What do you mean the camera system isn’t set up?
Patrick should have made that a priority!
” Bryce—my father—screams into his phone.
He’s pacing behind his giant wooden desk, compensating for the man he pretends to portray.
“It’s not going to matter anyway… what? Why?
Because—you fucking idiot—he was working.
If they’re all dead and the building is a pile of ash, then so is he!
” He slams the cell on his desk. No doubt, cracking the screen.
It’s not a typical week unless he breaks at least one in rage.
His temper is a beast I learned to tame a long time ago.
Now he doesn’t fuck with me, knowing I’d put him in the ground just as quickly.
Our delicate balance lands solely with my little sister, Kimber, and the access I have to her.
“Emerson! Are you fucking listening or daydreaming?”
His face is tomato red as spittle flies from his mouth while shouting. As much as I want to smirk and laugh in his face, now is not the time. The guys and I are being groomed to replace our fathers, but they don’t know we’re planning on overturning them before that happens.
We want nothing to do with the criminal underbelly they’ve turned their company into.
If we act soon, there’ll still be enough of the legitimate business to salvage.
However, we didn’t plan on someone else interfering with our plans.
Luckily, the destruction of their newest warehouse was our first step, and the vigilante incinerated it perfectly.
“I’m listening.” Simple responses are all I give. Any emotion or weakness has always been used against us. Now that Berkley’s gone, the guys and Kimber are his only weapons against me. He doesn’t dare touch Rowen and Ronan because he’s just as scared of us as he is of Dean, their dad.
“Take the twins and check the warehouse. More than likely everything burned to a crisp, since the fucking police aren’t beating down our door, but be sure.
Then check our other locations and ensure operations are in order.
” He flops into his chair, running his hand through his graying brown hair.
“I should’ve had you guys finalize this building like we originally planned.
I don’t know why Dean put Patrick on the systems last minute. ”
Another hidden smirk wants to tip my lips, because I know exactly why Dean pulled us off.
Ronan reported an informant within our ranks, knowing Dean would reassign us from finalizing procedures of the new building to sniffing out the culprit.
Too bad they don’t exist. We wanted the building to be vulnerable when we made our first move.
“Yes, sir.” Not wanting to spend a second longer with him than necessary, I turn to leave.
“Oh, and Emerson, don’t fuck this up. We lost a lot of money in this fire.
I’d hate for Kimber to have to go a long time without seeing her big brother.
” His lower lip pouts out mockingly, tempting me into action.
I constantly have to remind myself that we have a plan, and it doesn’t encompass killing my father… right now.
“Yes, sir.” His confident smirk is enough to know he believes they’re still in charge, which is exactly what we want.
Once I’m in the car and heading towards the house, I call the twins to let them know our next demands. The phone twills through the surrounding speakers as I turn onto the main road.
“How’d it go?” Rowen answers, all business, and grumpy. Another thing that transformed overnight since Berkley’s departure. Zero tolerance for bullshit. He rarely laughs or smiles, only serious. “Em, you there?”
Shaking my head clear, I answer. “Yeah, sorry.”
Berkley’s been lodged in my head more than usual this past week.
Not that a day ever passes without her slipping in, uninvited, but lately she’s everywhere—woven into every thought, every quiet moment.
And yeah, most of what I feel is still anger.
That raw, sour kind that never really fades, no matter how much time passes.
It’s been years, but it all feels sharp again, like it just happened—like we’re still standing in the wreckage of it. I can’t shake the memory of finding out what she did. To Reign. To all of us.
I never believed she had it in her—the girl who once looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered—to agree to be with the three of us, only to turn around and screw someone else the very next night.
And not just anyone. Reign’s boyfriend.
That’s the part that still guts me, the one detail that won’t stop twisting the knife.
Reign’s letter left no room for doubt. Every word laid it out plain, like a confession carved in stone.
Still, no matter how many times I reread it, doubt crawls in.
Why would Berk say yes to being with us if she was already planning to mess around?
None of it makes sense.
And the part that keeps me up at night?
Somehow, even after everything, a piece of me still wants to believe there’s more to the story.
“What’s the next move?” Rowen asks, already informed of the warehouse.
“Whoever burned that shit down did a hell of a job. Bryce says there’s nothing left, but wants us to go check it out, and then check on the other buildings to ensure business as usual.” The corner of my lip finally glides up in humor.
“Excellent. I’d like to have torched the place myself, but the job’s done, and we have access to the other warehouses. We’re sticking to the plan since this incident played into it perfectly.”
“Same page.” I agree. “Is Ronan home?”
“Right here, bro!” he hollers down the line, stretching my smile.
“I’ll swing by to get you both, so we can get this shit over with. I’d like to relax tonight if possible.”
“Nice!” Ronan practically giggles. “We going to the Underground? I’m dying to glimpse my little pixie again.”
Rowen growls at his brother, something he does more than not these days. “Will you leave it alone! All I’ve heard this week is pixie this and pixie that. She doesn’t even know you!”
My heart skips a beat, remembering the purple-haired vixen at the ring the other night.
It seems she’s made an impression on all of us, because Rowen wouldn’t be getting pissy if he didn’t find her attractive too.
Which is what’s probably putting him on edge.
The last person we all wanted together was Berk, and that ended before it really began.
She’s the center of our weakness. We can’t talk about her without it ending in a fistfight.
Typically, the twins, because Ronan doesn’t believe a damn thing about her “death”.
Not what Bryce and Dean told us happened that night between the girls, not Reign’s letter of accusation, not the fire, not any of it.
He believes it was all staged, planned, and that she needed our help.
He’s been looking for her since the night of the fire, going on about some dumb text.
Rowen believed it too easily. Heartbroken that Berk could do that to him and betray their sister.
He hopped right on the bash Berkley bandwagon, refusing to speak about her again, and if either of us brought her up, he’d have a complete meltdown.
A couple of years ago, Ronan confronted him with his beliefs again, and it didn’t end well.
They were both bloody when Rowen disappeared only to enter the ring for the first time, impersonating Ronan at the Underground.
He also started whoring himself to anyone who’d let him, fucking anything that moved at one point.
“No, but she will.” Ronan’s voice darkens to a sinister tone.
I sigh heavily, tired of hearing them go at each other’s throats. “I’m pulling in now. Are you two done bitching at each other or do I have to wait?”
They both got quiet, forgetting they were on the phone at all. “We’ll be out.” Rowen replies and hangs up without another word.
Seconds later they’re slipping into their seats, and we’re gliding toward the dilapidated warehouse.
The ride is silent, each of us in our own thoughts, and likely on the same sweet innocent girl of our past. Whether we hate her or not, wondering what happened is always on our minds. No matter if we admit it or not.
“Has Dean contacted either of you about the fire?” Our fathers operate as a team, which is why if one of them is crippled, the other will barely function.
“We got off the phone with him before you called. Mostly the same shit as Bryce, wanting to be sure we step up, and handle operations until they figure out who was responsible. Rowen redirected the funds for our legitimate businesses into our offshore accounts, so when shit goes down, we’ll be untouchable. ”
“Nice.” Once we turned eighteen, we convinced Dean and Bryce to sign the legitimate portion of the businesses over to us, so if something were to happen, we’d have a base to land on. What they didn’t know was that we planned to cleave their dirty deeds from existence one step at a time.
“We’re a couple of weeks ahead of schedule now that someone else torched our first target. Should we keep the same timeline and finish what they started, or wait until the original date for the next hit?”
They both ponder the question, but Rowen’s the one to answer.
“We should keep going. There’s too much uncertainty if we wait until the original date.
Whoever torched the warehouse is competition, even if we don’t know who it is.
We also don’t know why they did it. Our resources are going to be stretched thin investigating the fire and continuing with our plan, but I think it’ll pay off. ”
“Are all the accounts in place and legitimate? None of their shit’s going to trace back to us, right?” Ronan triple-checks the details, this stage having been orchestrated for weeks.