Lord of Deception (Bratva Lords #2)

Chapter One

Inna Grace

I had reached the point where giving up on life sounded better than continuing to fight for survival.

I spent another day trailing after Mr. Torres, begging for my job back.

After so many refusals, it stopped hurting and began to feel almost funny.

What was the point of trying when every attempt folded into the same disappointment?

The wind tore through the night, tugging at my clothes as if it wanted them gone.

Thunder cracked above me, close enough to sound like a warning.

I stood on the rooftop of the building where I used to work and looked down at the crowded parking lot of Mr. Torres’s restaurant.

After years of working here, I learned how well the place thrived, how money flowed, and how easily I could get fired.

People drifted in and out of the restaurant as their lives moved on so well.

I tipped my head back and stared into the dark sky.

A raindrop struck my cheek, and I closed my eyes.

If my parents could give up and disappear without a trace, who was I to believe I could fight my way out?

Maybe vanishing was not an accident at all.

Perhaps it was something passed down in our family.

Death felt like the cleanest way to disappear.

I opened my eyes and stepped closer to the edge.

If I jumped, I would land on the red car parked below.

Imagining the impact sent my heart racing.

I had to make sure I died, because surviving the fall would leave me broken and trapped in a useless body.

Still, who survives a fall from four stories, anyway?

Wherever my parents disappeared to, I hoped they were happy. I hoped they knew I would eventually leave my brother alone, just as they had left us. I was not just giving up on my life; I was finishing what they started.

A shiver ran down my spine when thunder roared again, loud enough to vibrate through the concrete beneath my feet. This was the moment I stopped fighting. God knew I tried.

Tears slid down my cheeks, and I closed my eyes. I opened my arms, and the rain fell, as if cheering me on and urging me forward. I shifted one leg over the edge, gasping when my phone vibrated. The jolt threw me off balance. I swayed backward and crashed onto the rooftop, landing hard on my butt.

“Damn it,” I hissed, rubbing the sore spot as pain spread through me. The concrete scraped my palms, and thin lines of blood bloomed against my skin.

I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen. Amelia, my neighbor’s name, glowed back at me, which meant my brother had borrowed her phone. Amelia kept it only to receive calls. She was too old to bother with anything else.

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen. But the thought that something might have happened to my brother nudged me to answer.

“It’s raining. Are you coming home?” Cole asked quickly, as if someone might snatch the phone from his hand.

I ran a hand through my soaked hair and got up, boots scraping on the concrete. I moved toward the far end, away from the street noise, where the city faded into a dull, distant hum.

“Did you suddenly forget how to talk?” he pressed, and I rolled my eyes. “Wait. You got the job, didn’t you? I knew Mr. Torres would take you back. Bring leftovers, nothing soup-like. Maybe fries and something Amelia can chew. Actually, bring anything.”

I swallowed and blinked away the tears until my vision cleared. Was he that hungry? I promised to bring food home tonight. I only had nine dollars in my pocket—that was all.

“You know I can’t use Amelia’s phone for long, right?”

Yeah, I knew. Her daughter already hated that we were staying with her mother.

“Just give the phone back,” I said, forcing a breath. Cole was the reason I never quit. When Dad disappeared, I took shifts, worked extra hours, and swallowed humiliation. I wanted him to live like a normal child.

“You didn’t get the job, did you?” he lowered his voice.

I wiped my tears, peering over the edge of the building. “Who said I didn’t?”

“So you’re bringing food?” he pressed. “I’m young, Sis. I’m basically a baby. Babies need three meals a day. But guess what? We skipped lunch.”

I scoffed. “Are you done?” He could have sounded like he was joking, but I knew he was starving.

“I’m not complaining,” he said. “I’m just so starving that I could eat you.”

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it, followed by a quiet sob. “You’re an idiot.”

Movement near the back of the restaurant caught my eye. It took me a moment to register that it was Mr. Torres’s twin brother. He moved through the shadows, a familiar bag slung at his side, and stopped beside a trash bin. A cat sprang off the lid and vanished into the alley.

“Are you there?” Cole asked.

I didn’t answer. I pulled the phone from my ear and checked the time. It was just a few minutes to midnight.

“Cole, I’m hanging up.” I ended the call before he could respond and shoved the phone into my pocket.

Mr. Torres was the best boss I ever worked for.

He didn’t have a choice when he had to fire some of his employees.

The pressure came from his brother, a man who drained the restaurant dry under the excuse of an old debt.

I remembered the night he stormed in, warning that if Mr. Torres didn’t help settle the debt, the men he owed would take the restaurant by force.

Tonight was collection night. The twin always showed up, took the money Mr. Torres earned, and slipped into the alley to meet whoever came to collect.

No one knew I had overheard everything. The twin didn’t care that employees lost their jobs because of him.

That bag held money he had never worked for.

Money that cost me my job and stripped others of theirs.

He didn’t deserve a single dollar, yet he appeared every time as if it already belonged to him.

Heat climbed up my throat. The thought of Cole waiting for food, trusting me, burned hotter than the fall did.

It wasn’t my place to care about Mr. Toress being drained by his brother, but somehow I was the one suffering here. Why should I die because of someone old enough to face his own debt? I had a brother to take care of, and that man clearly had no such worries.

I rushed down the stairs, aware that what I was about to do would cost me. But I had nothing left to lose.

He didn’t deserve that money. I did. And so did every employee he helped get fired.

My heart hammered as I reached the back of the restaurant. Rain soaked through my clothes, but the unease crawling through me had nothing to do with the cold. I had one goal: to take the briefcase.

I needed a plan.

They say villains are made, not born. That was true. People faced pressure and difficult situations, which forced them into roles they never planned to play.

I was about to become a thief. Not someday, not hypothetically, but tonight. And the funny part was that it would be my first time.

If I wanted that bag, I had to get it before the pickup. But how was I supposed to walk to him as a stranger and leave with a briefcase full of cash in less than ten minutes?