Promise to Uphold: Book Two of the “Broken” duology

1. Killian

“This was the wrong choice, lad,” Liam says in a sing-song voice to the man tied up in front of him.

Blood oozes down the Asian man’s forehead, entering his eye. It can’t be comfortable. Yet, he refuses to speak. Instead, the fool thrashes around like Houdini.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t gain the talent of disappearing from danger.

These things are getting boring.

Liam stands over the poor fuck, looking like the beast he is. His proper hair is disheveled, his brown eyes bloodshot and wild as ever. Nevertheless, his new Dior shirt is immaculate, showing the status and strength of a monster.

He became bulkier over the years, his lean physique gone with hours spent in the gym. Maddox joins him in the feast of violence, letting Kai and me sit this one out.

Having Maddox here is like a kick to the gut. I’m happy he’s here with me and enraged for what I lost.

For whom I lost.

To think that the other two fuckers, Liam and Kai, have been with me through it all because of an alliance treaty that ties our families together while my brother Maddox was rotting in jail.

Our patriarchs made us a force not to be played with by tying the three most notorious mafia families into one. I have been through it all with those two men: friendship, bloodshed, tragedies, and power. So much fucking power.

“I don’t...” the man I didn’t even bother to learn the name of says but falters the second Liam shows him his pearly whites.

Unlike my friend and brother, the man’s clothes are stained with red. Teeth chattering, body limp from pain, he stays strong. He won’t say a fucking thing. He’s too loyal. People like him don’t break under pressure. They see themselves as disposable.

They are not wrong.

The fact that the Albanians reached Japan is worrisome. The fact they used a native person who is clearly refusing to speak is even more bothersome. Those cunts made my life hell for a while now. They’re scattering like vipers all around the world is a problem.

“Wrong choice, again,” Maddox spits into the bitter man’s face, his bald head shimmering due to the exertion. “But since you don’t want to talk, I’ll make you sing like Pavarotti. Or maybe I’ll let this wild thing next to me have his way with you.”

Liam looks at my brother with his mouth agape, eyes shining with mischief. Maddox threw in the “wild thing” comment on purpose.

Maricela is off-topic most of the time, or at least until Maddox brings her up again. Or when I think I have a new lead on her whereabouts.

It’s been seven months without a new lead. She’s nowhere to be found. My wild child is playing her hide-and-seek game too well.

She’ll pay for what she’s done to me.

To us.

The two men pound into their victim again and again until sweat covers both their faces. Maddox enjoys his brand of good, old-fashioned violence, just like me. Maybe even more.

Prison made him harsher and more violent, as if needing to take out his rage on humankind, the species that let him down. He pushes himself to the verge when harming others.

“I don’t know a fucking thing. Kill me already, you Italian cunts,” the man begs.

Kai flexes his hands, preparing to inflict punishment. No one speaks ill of Liam, Madd, or me under his watch. I hold him by the shoulders, forcing him to stay in his place.

“Don’t call me Italian, you uncultured buffoon.” Liam grabs the man with his smooth black hair, and as if they coordinated this dance, he takes a knife from Maddox to stick it in our captive’s hand. “My ancestors were the colonizers, you stupid shit.”

And here we go.

Liam hits the man while speaking about the history of his ancestors and all they did to and for the world. The chair the man’s tied to falls backward with the force of Liam’s blow.

“Liam, we need him alive,” Madd reminds him.

“Do we, now?”

Liam spits into the man’s face and checks his shirt. Happy that it’s still clean, he lifts the man and the chair.

“Kill me, you cunts.”

The man is learning. No one calls the self-centered British man anything but British.

“As much as I like the smell of cunts,” Liam grumbles, like the man-child he is, “I want out of here.”

Kai scoffs and makes a face as if he smells something putrid. The sound has me looking at him. He just shrugs.

Kai becomes more and more like the place he was born in. Cold, silent and big—so fucking big. He, too, has changed. His black hair and black eyes are the same, but where Liam and I took to the gym as a routine, Kai chooses to live in it, lifting everything in his wake.

“Are you fucking women who smell like that?” Maddox is the one who asks, looking at me with wide eyes and amusement written as bright as the sun on his handsome face. The world is like a bad standup show to my big brother.

“Kill, we need to make him check himself before he marries our Raven, and if he betrays her, I’ll make his balls bounce out of his body. You have a few more months to fuck around,” Maddox adds, ending his threat with a slap to Liam’s face.

I ignore them.

Liam knows what’s at stake.

The smell of fresh fish and the noise of industrial machinery remind me I’m not in the US, nor am I alone with these three imbeciles.

This job was a favor to the Japanese, who want into the alliance. The Albanians and the Irish have been an irritant for them. We agreed to fly here to hear them out because the Yakuza has a lot of power in the US, as we do. Bringing them into the alliance could be good for business. Plus, it can help me catch the slimy fuckers.

“Tell me,” I say, not moving from my seat.

The man shakes for the first time in fright.

Liam, Madd, and even Kai have their crazy reputations, but everyone knows that if I speak up and take control, it won’t be pretty.

After all, I gave up the last shreds of my humanity because of her.

Her.

It always comes back to my wild child, even now.

The woman who ran away because of some video the fiancé my father chose for me orchestrated, making Maricela think I was meant to break her by hearing a confession of my intentions directly from the source: me.

I was supposed to—break her, that is—but that’s not the point. She ran, never letting me explain myself to her when communication was never our problem. She broke the last shreds of humanity I clung to, just like the fresh aroma that always stuck to her: fresh, wild, and deranged.

Just like the woman herself.

My woman because no matter where in the world she hides. She will always be mine.

I still keep the pink shirt she designed for me in her lone plan of humiliation, an attempt to scare me away and show me she wasn’t a good person at her core.

Fuck, maybe she wasn’t.

Maybe she’s hiding with someone and living her life in the wild, laughing and singing in Spanish, letting someone else see her smiles and those eyes, letting some other hands make her cunt wet for them, hearing her scream and beg for more.

I kept secrets, but it wasn’t by choice. I could have told her. We could have solved it with another one of our games, and I would have willingly paid for my actions.

No matter how many times I think about it, I can’t compute the situation.

She wouldn’t have left.

Scratch that. She would. Just to return stronger, but she didn’t.

Maricela knows nothing, and wherever she is, she hates me.

Well, the feeling is mutual, and I always win in the feeling department. Hate is my favorite of them all. It’s easy to let it consume you, to let it rule your actions.

The beginning of my affair with Maricela was like non-stop turbulence. I thought I was the maker of the storm that was us. I was wrong. She was the creator of the wind the day she appeared in my house, wearing simple clothes and a sassy mouth like no other. A mouth that made her a target in my father’s sick eyes.

Maricela was the one who controlled the waves and the nature of our relationship with her acts and eyes alone. Blues and greens I want to ruin, blues and greens I want to fuck.

Those magnificent eyes that told me every night the depth of what she never had the courage to tell me herself.

After four years of living without her quiet light, I’m standing in another predicament that was part of those wrong choices. I received my unholy place in this world with open fucking arms, and the man in front of me knows that if I touch him, it will be cruel and creative.

The child who killed his cousin with the blade of an ax is much wiser now. Or so Liam claims. I’m not so sure about that.

“Tell me,” I repeat, taking a step toward him with a cold and detached tone.

Liam and Maddox laugh, and if I glanced in Kai’s direction, I’m sure I would see elation plastered on his face.

I can’t remember the last time I laughed.

Liar. It was after the last time you fucked me,Maricela taunts in my head, her smile huge, her eyes bright, full of the mischief she kept only for me.

I can almost feel her messy, soft hair and her tiny frame behind me, the red and brown warring in her hair just like the blue and green did in her eyes.

I did laugh with her.

Fuck, I lived with her.

For her.

Her body and sweet cunt weren’t the only reason for my bright mood. It was her. Her demeanor, her bravery to go against me, her bully.

Shaking her voice from my head, I focus on the task before us. “You may not see your poor excuse for existing as valuable, but what will happen if I harm Sami?” The man cries enormous crocodile tears, shaking his head.

Bingo. Fucking freak.

Maddox whistles, and Liam spits on our little bestiality lover. “I didn’t think he would fall for that. Dignifying the love of an animal is something I can do. I love Hero, but mate, that’s just sick.”

With a shake of my head, I think about Hero, the German Shepherd Kai and Liam insisted on adopting, despite my objections. I never wanted a dog and tried for months not to become attached. It was a complete failure.

Now this scumbag will die, if only for what he did to that cat. If Raven hears about this pervert, she’ll come and kill him herself in the name of Baron, the cat she took with her after graduation. An overweight cat that lives better than anyone I know, and I’m surrounded by rich folks.

Raven. I shake the thought from my head, not wanting to think about my lack of a relationship with her, of all people. My Rav is my only redemption in this world, my cousin. A beloved, sunny person who was my best friend. We became everything to each other as kids until the moment I ruined everything.

Liam brings the conversation back to the reason we are standing in this godforsaken place. “You took the drags from the Japanese in their own country, and what? You thought it would go unnoticed? Was it for the Albanian? Or better yet, the Irish?” Liam asks while rubbing Madd’s head as if he’s a lamp and a genie will pop out of there any second. These two, I swear.

“You bore me to death,” Liam tells our cat abuser while looking at the man who drove us here. It’s like the Yakuza chooses its men by appearance.

“I’m bored too,” Maddox adds, sending a hungry look to our driver.

“And I want my sushi. It’s not good when I’m hungry and bored, and I believe scum like you should know that,” he says while stacking a pile of nails and redirecting his attention to his victim.

I look at the Japanese soldier waiting by the door and recall the nickname Maddox bestowed on him, “The Hunk Daddy,” who thankfully looks nothing but amused.

That happens with most people around my big brother. Humor is Maddox’s best coping mechanism.

“We’ll go get your fish,” the man in question says with a heavy accent. My brother lifts his thick brow and glances down at his cock.

Soon after, Maddox resumes his torture with the promise of a fuck. The telltale sound of the nail pile being reduced is deafening, but sounds like this doesn’t affect us anymore.

I actually prefer it to the unsettling sight of Maddox trying to pick up a hole to fill.

“Mate, your love for noise, I swear.” Liam shivers.

Maddox learned this method of torture from none other than Franco. He used it on us more than once.

Noise and clatter, especially the kind that makes your skin crawl, are more likely to make the person speak faster. Franco was an outstanding teacher. He taught us to ignore any kind of pain. Physical and mental.

I lean forward and ask again, “You don’t want us to make sashimi out of your Sami, do you?” Madd snorts out loud. He can’t help himself. Even Kai’s lips twitch the slightest bit the second I turn my head.

“Leave my Sami be. She’s all I have,” he begs.

I can understand that. What would I give to get back the one I lost? Every-fucking-thing.

Four fucking years. It’s been four fucking years since part of my soul was returned to me when Maddox got out of prison and another part taken.

No. No one took Maricela away.

She ran.

From me.

She chose not to be part of my life anymore. She didn’t even wait before she ran away.

“All the promises I gave you were meant to be broken. Were meant to break you.”

Any other man would have already given up on the stupid notion of searching for a woman who was his for only a few months.

I’m no such man.

No matter where my wild child is, I will find her. Even if it will take me a lifetime, even if I will have to run from the gates of hell in the afterlife to steal her away from heaven. Because my little girl belongs to me. With me.

“Not my Sami, please,” the animal rapist begs again.

Did I just compare Maricela to a cat, or better yet, compare myself to someone like this creep? What is wrong with me? Little Girl, you will pay for this.

“So, speak, or my blade is going to enter your too-smooth face.”

I look at Maddox. If any crazy fucker would have told me that my half-brother wouldn’t only be free but that he would partake in my lifestyle, I would have killed him on the spot for lying to my face. But here he is.

“I took it, okay? My intention was to sell some. I didn’t want Agim to find out. I needed the money.”

“Sell to whom?”

“To students on the Tamachi campus.”

“Which drug?” Liam looks at me. We both know the name of the drug he’s going to name.

“The life-star.” Fucking Agim. These new drugs have killed more people than I can count.

Agim’s reach is worldwide now. Franco should have let me kill him. Fuck, I should have killed him when I had the chance, no matter what Daddy Dearest had in mind.

The Albanians were scattered then and not powerful. Now, they are like pests that have infiltrated all over the place.

I glance at Liam and Kai, saying nothing. The last thing we need is for our “Hunk Daddy” to think that Agim is a problem. It will endanger any plans we have with the Yakuza.

“How much?” the Hunk asks.

I’m going to kill Maddox for that. This guy works for Hayato, and from what I’ve gathered, Hayato’s crazy, just like me.

Our cat lover trembles but doesn’t speak. I take another step, and his cries intensify. How is it they always cry after doing the things they do?

“I can cut your dick off and give it to Sami. I’m sure she would enjoy a good bone.”

My eyes fall on his wet pants. Come on. I take the sharpest sword I see and aim it at his groin. I must admit that the things are not nearly as beautiful as my gun collection.

“Five! Only five!”

“Five what?” My voice is calm and friendly as I press the point of the sword to his chest, letting a drop of blood paint the mirror-like blade as an offering to Lucifer at the gate of Hell.

“Pounds,” the man answers. “Only five pounds.”

I look at the driver, refusing to think of him as “The Hunk Daddy.” He nods, so I remove the blade from the man’s chest, only to swoop the blade across his dick, rejoicing in his scream.

“Save the cat and all that,” Maddox sings.

He spent too much time reading nonfiction in prison. I don’t think this was what the big Blake Snyder meant, but at least we saved a cat.

Liam looks unfazed by the whole thing, as if he’s watching Hero play with leaves in the fall.

“Liam, I think it’s your turn. Enjoy,” Madd says, flexing the muscles he gained in jail and stepping back to let Liam take the lead.

We all shake our heads at the look in Liam’s eyes as he takes a hammer and starts breaking bone after bone. The screams go from strong to quiet to strong again until they stop altogether.

“He died fast, didn’t he?” Madd scratches his bald head before adding, “I think we need a smaller hammer next time.”

His black tank top is big on him, displaying all of his scars. Some of them are picturesque, but the reason for them makes me want to burn the world for him. Fucking Franco.

“You’re crazier than Liam,” Kai says, speaking for the first time in the two weeks we’ve been in Tokyo.

Madd gives Kai a side-eyed look. “Your bride-to-be is coming soon, isn’t she?”

Madd is the only one who can pry Kai on this subject. I think it’s because of the guilt the mute still has toward my half-brother. However, Kai doesn’t talk to us or anyone about his bride-to-be or Newt.

When Kai doesn’t respond in any way—no surprise—Madd scoffs and says, “Well, I need my sushi, and I want the real deal. I heard about a home restaurant not far away. It’s really famous. You, Hunk Daddy, Driver Boy.”

“Is he a daddy or a boy?” Liam sounds baffled.

We all fucking are.

“I can be both.” No fucking way. Not again.

Madd is going to fuck him. I wish I knew less about Maddox’s sex life. Scratch that. I wish I knew not a single thing.

“You promised me a fish. I can go for a sea cucumber as well.”

My face has Liam playing with his tongue in his mouth, making it pop through his cheek like the chaos-loving asshole he is. I shouldn’t know how far the game of my brother reaches, but T.M.I. is something that Maddox thrives on.

We approach the car, and Liam says, “You need to reserve a spot at a place like that a year in advance, mate.” It’s hard to believe he and Raven will tie the knot next year.

Raven. A rare pain I allow myself cuts into my charcoal heart for the second time today.

These past four fucking years have been a bigger penance since Maricela left me behind because of Lila’s conniving actions, and my darling redheaded beauty is paying for every day. But no matter how I’ve tried to fix things between Raven and me, and I did try, nothing changes.

Maricela disappeared because of me, and Raven can’t forgive my actions. I can understand that.

Maricela never saw Raven as a princess of the underworld. She didn’t fear her, didn’t use her. Maricela was the only person my dear cousin trusted with everything, even the things she couldn’t divulge to me or her father.

“Hayato can manage,” Maddox replies.

“I want my sushi. Remind me again why we need the Yakuza on our side. It’s not like the Albanians will start being smart.”

He pulls the driver to his side and grabs his crotch as if we aren’t here. He does shit like that on fucking purpose.

I roll my eyes. “I swear to God, you came back more childish than your niece and nephew. Saying that the Albanian mafia is stupid is like saying that politicians care about the people.”

“Hey, Amado and Connie are fucking awesome, S and S notwithstanding.”

“Can you stop calling Santino and Serena S and S? They aren’t celebrities.”

Maddox ignores me as he scoffs.

“Could you imagine? That bitch famous? Anyway, I’d say it sounds more like an organization from 1932.”

I cringe at the thought.

“I tell you, Amado will say my name first. And your analogy wasn’t the best. Agim is nothing like a politician. For that to happen, he’d have to stop acting reckless and volatile.” Madd assures me.

“Amado is eight months old. He just learned how to walk.” Liam looks at his pinky ring as he speaks.

Every time he does, it gives me hope that his marriage will be a happy one.

He thinks I don”t know, so I let him.

Maddox shrugs. “And still, he’s smarter than the Albanians. Where is my sushi?”

Hayato waits for us outside the office building next to the fish market. The Japanese hide the blood in plain sight. From one side of the building, the smell of fish fills the air. From the other, the scent of high-end perfume, and beneath that, the stench of piss, blood, and death.

“Took you long enough,” Hayato says with not a smidgen of accent whatsoever, looking at his Patek Philippe Grandmaster watch.

Like me, he grew up in the US, and people know him as Holden in New York. Unlike me, he cares about punctuality more than his next breath.

“Well, the last samurai didn’t want to talk,” Maddox supplies.

“Huh?” Poor Hayato sounds confused to the point that his too-smooth skin blemishes only slightly.

I wonder how someone like him ended up as a representative of the Yakuza in the US.

Unlike the Italians, the Russians, the British, or even the Irish, the Japanese had to exhibit their want and need to be part of the Yakuza.

Yes, family and connections come into consideration, but unlike us, Hayato has to prove himself time and time again.

Maddox smirks. “I watched too many Hollywood movies in jail,” he lies.

“I want sushi and your ass.”

Apparently, my brother didn’t only discover his bisexuality in prison. He also discovered that he is a fucking whore. The look he gives Hayato just after harassing the driver makes me want to gag.

“You just propositioned the driver, you bugger,” Liam complains.

I want to say something as well, but my cell phone rings, interrupting the scene.

I listen for a moment and then ask, “Mom, is he dead?”

The cries of my mother are not what I expect to hear. Unless she isn’t alone, that is. If Franco died, it’s the best news she could have gotten.

“Let me speak to him,” I hear a male voice say through the line.

“Mr. Fierro.”

It’s Dario, my mother’s bodyguard, the only one that’s stayed alive. Therefore, I don’t trust him. No matter how many times Isabella has told me he’s a decent man, I don’t believe any man who works for Franco Fierro can be trusted.

“Is my father dead?” I interrupt, not bothering to hide my hate for Franco.

The only reason I haven’t killed him myself is because I want the pain of cancer to take him as slowly and harshly as possible.

Karma got to Franco Fierro.

His lungs betrayed him three years ago, and no matter what he does to stretch his existence, he’s closer to the devil with each painful breath he takes.

I want him to roam the earth, coughing up blood for as long as he can possibly manage. Each time I hear him choke on his own saliva, it’s like a gift to my brutalized soul.

“He’s not,” Dario replies.

Silence follows.

A kind of silence I got from my mother when she sat me down after Maricela left me. It’s a stillness that tells you everything is going to change and not for the fucking better.

The horrifying kind.

“Did she die? Is Maricela dead?”

Four fucking years. She can’t be dead.

“I promise you I’ll make you my wife someday, Little Girl.” I fuck into her, making her scream. “You are mine. My woman. My future. My every-fucking-thing.”

The memories take over my soul before I hear the words, “It’s your brother, Mr. Santino.”

The rush of air that fills my lungs escapes me. Did he say what I think he just said?

“He killed your sister-in-law, and then he shot himself in the head.”

Well, fuck.