Sincerely, Butterfly

Prologue

EIGHT YEARS AGO

JASPER

“Jasper.” My head snaps up at the sound of my father’s voice. Closing the book I’m reading, I place it on the coffee table.

“Yes?” I ask, getting to my feet.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I wait for him to speak.

He’s dressed in a full black suit, like always. His ebony hair is styled back neatly, while mine is longer, messier.

He looks so put together, controlled, powerful, while I struggle to live up to his honor.

I strive to be like this man in every way, but no matter what I do, I never seem to feel like I’m doing a good enough job.

I want to make him proud, to do our family’s name justice.

“Come with me. I want to have a talk before tonight's party.”

The party. The one I’ve been dreading.

The parties that once brought me excitement because I’d get to see her. The one person who could bring light to all the dark thoughts swirling inside my head.

Nodding, I follow him as he turns around, heading through the sliding door that leads to the backyard.

It's a nice spring day, the sun shining bright. I hate it. It’s too warm. I prefer the night.

We take the steps down off the deck and head toward the rose bushes. And it’s not just bushes, we have a whole maze of flowers and hedges.

Mom loves her gardening, but especially the roses. We can more than afford to hire someone to tend to them, but Mom prefers to do it herself.

It gives her something to do. She says it calms her.

She always looks so happy when she’s back here, her hands dirty, sweat dripping down her forehead.

I love seeing her like that, it makes her more real. In the world I’ve grown up in, most women care more about money and status and would never be caught dead getting dirty.

“I know you're aware of your duties to come, the life changes that await you, and all that it entails.” My father breaks the silence, shoving his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. “But have I ever told you the history of our families? How the Brotherhood became what it is today?”

My brows furrow, my mind working to think. Did he?

“No,” I answer. As far as I can remember, the Brotherhood has been a part of my life. I know enough about it, the rules of the organization, and what's expected of me, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard the story of how it came to be.

“Nearly two hundred years ago, three struggling business owners found themselves in dire need. Henry Shaw, the owner of one of the first banks of Louisiana, Walter Reid, owner of one of the first pharmacies in New Orleans, and Thomas Park, owner of one of the most popular hotels in the city.

“The three of them were the best of friends and confided in one another about their downfalls.

Drunk one night, they found themselves stumbling upon a man while walking through Jackson Square.

Something seemed off about this man, but they paid it no mind, as there were many strange characters that migrated to New Orleans.

The man overheard them talking about their sorrows and offered to help.

Now, Henry, Walter, and Thomas thought the things he was saying were just the babblings of a crazed man.

Still, this man told them that if they wanted all the riches in the world, he could give them the answer to solve their problems."

“How?” I ask, coming to a stop at one of the maze’s entrances.

Dad turns to face me, a rare smile cracking on the corner of his lips. Smiles were only ever reserved for my mother. However, I was lucky enough to get a few for myself during some of my biggest achievements in life.

“Magic, of course."

I snort in a mock laugh, because magic isn’t real.

Dad’s smile falls. “It’s hard to believe, because magic isn’t real, right?

Well, those three men believed the same thing.

They laughed in this man's face, called him crazy, and let him be. Weeks went by, and their businesses continued to fail. They got together again, talked about their troubles, and remembered what the crazy man said.”

“So, what? They went back to the guy, and he worked some Voodoo magic on them?” I ask, wanting to roll my eyes, but I don’t, not wanting to disrespect my father.

“Not quite, but close. They were desperate men, not wanting to lose everything they'd built. And desperate people do drastic things. They did go back to Jackson Square, and the man was there, in the same place as before. They asked to hear more about what he was offering.”

“What was this man offering?”

“Power. Money. Success. Everything a man of status aspired to have and hold onto.”

I know I should listen, but I have so many questions. “And what did this man want in return? Money? A share in their business?”

“No,” my father replies. “He wanted nothing.”

“Nothing.” My brows furrow. “That doesn’t seem believable. Nothing in this world is free.”

Dad chuckles, another rare moment. “That’s what they thought, too. But, when you have nothing to lose, why not try everything you can?” he continues, turning his back to me as he heads inside the maze.

I follow after, keeping a few steps behind him.

“This man gave them a book,” he says. “And in this book, there were rituals. Rituals for a god that not many have heard of. One that asked of things that would be considered blasphemy to the one god the world already knew so well. They read the book, saw what it was asking of them, and refused. They said this was the devil's work and they’d take no part in it.”

“But they did?”

Dad chuckles again. “I’m getting there, son. Patience.”

I clamp my lips shut.

“The man told them that they were welcome to do as they pleased, but left the book with the three before walking away. They took the book home, tossed it to the side, and for a while, never thought about it,” Dad says, rounding a corner, then another.

I’m quick to keep up, not wanting to get separated.

“But their businesses continued to crumble. They stopped having faith in the god they knew, and with nothing left to lose, they met up with the book in hand and read through it again. The things inside were asking for absurd requests, but in the end, they decided to do what the book was asking.”

“What was that?”

We stop in the middle of the maze, a stone fountain adorning the center of it. Dad sits down on the edge, and I follow suit.

He doesn’t look my way when he speaks again.

“The basis is the blood of a virginal sacrifice. But there were specific ways this blood had to be obtained. First, the woman needed to volunteer her body and blood willingly. To keep it as pure as possible. Second, the blood was to be collected in the process of that woman giving her virginity to the men performing the ritual. All of the people participating were to drink the blood offering before giving the rest to the god.”

This much I knew. My friends and I have seen the ritual performed before in preparation of taking over as the head of the next generation of the Brotherhood.

The idea of having sex with someone in a room full of grown men does not appeal to me, but I’ll never question it. I know my purpose, and I will fulfill it to make my family proud.

It’s my legacy, my fate. It’s what needs to happen. What will be.

“Henry, Thomas, and Walter followed the rituals, promising young women all the riches they could dream of if they agreed to what was asked of them. They agreed, giving their virtue to these men. And for the first few years, everything went great. The ritual worked, and their businesses started to thrive again. All was great in the world. Until it wasn’t. ”

“What did they do?”

“They brought in more men into their circle, other struggling business owners, and offered them the same deal the strange man had given them. They saw how well the original three were doing and agreed. Our ancestors believed that by giving the god more sacrifices, it meant more wealth. And they were right. Four men from the second set of families also thrived for years just like the original three. But the same thing happened to them as it did to the original three; their wealth declined. So they brought more people into the fold. And the Brotherhood was created, and over the years, it became a large, powerful organization. To this day, we practice the ways of our ancestors because if we don’t, we will lose everything. ”

“Do you believe all that?” I ask, needing to know. “In what the Brotherhood practices.”

“I do,” he agrees. “But unfortunately, the way the Brotherhood works didn’t align with the course my life took.

So I handed my position over to your uncle.

He has taken the place as the family head until you become of age.

” He looks down at me. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you, Jasper.

The things you're about to endure are going to change your very being, but know that you have your mother and me by your side. You’re not alone, and we will be there for you every step of the way.

I wish some things could be different, however, this is the way of our lives. Without it, we would lose everything.”

Lifting my chin, I straighten my shoulders. “I can handle it, Dad. I’ll make you proud. Make Mom proud. We won’t lose what we have. I’ll make sure of it.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close. My body eases, and a warmth spreads through my chest.

“Maybe your uncle will have kids, and none of this will be your fate.”

My brows furrow, confused as to why he would want that.

I know my father left the Brotherhood because of my mom. He refused to touch another woman after meeting her. Because of the rules and what was asked of him, he handed his position over to his younger brother.

But as the only grandson—the only other person apart from my uncle who can keep our bloodline going—it is my job to take over someday.

And I will. I’ll make my father proud. I’ll do what I was born to, and someday, I’ll have a son to continue the legacy.

There is no other way.

I hate these stupid parties. Everyone is so fake, from their smiles to their laughs.