Chapter 1 #3
“Sometimes,” she added, her voice losing a bit of its steel, “I think I should’ve kept him.”
I caught it. The timing. The tone. The way she side-eyed me to see how I would react to that.
Nice try, E.
“If you want him,” I said lightly, rolling one shoulder like it didn’t matter, “take him.”
My teeth sank into the inside of my cheek as she tilted her head in thought. She isn’t going to take him… right?
Doing the only thing I could think of, I doubled down. I leaned in closer to steal her attention, my grin flashing just enough fang to make it a challenge. “But you better hurry, sis. Once we’re bosses and they are solidified, there’s no trading after the fact.”
Her head finally turned, eyes sharp and deep, weighing every word like they were pieces on a board. I held the look, even when it started to feel like standing too close to a cliff edge.
“Keep Rack,” she said at last, settling back into the booth, hands neatly folded in her lap. Calm. Decided. Like she’d known the answer the whole time. “You need him more than I do.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again. Anything I said after that would’ve been bullshit, and we both knew it.
Truth be told, I'd been relying on Ezra and Rack for most of my life. Both of them recognized that I didn’t want the pressures of being the ruling head, that I worked best if I was left alone and free to make everything that popped into my head.
They gave me room. Let me build. Let me disappear into my work and come back when I was ready.
I was a handful, and I knew it, but I was serious when I needed to be, too. Reliable when called for. I might be messy and prone to emotional outbursts, but I was also a weapons genius, and when it mattered, I showed up.
“I mean…” I said slowly, pretending to weigh my options. “He’s useful.” I made a show of looking around and shrugging. “I guess I’ll keep him.”
The bubbly, high-pitched laugh that came from Ezra stunned me into silence. I’d maybe heard Ezra laugh a handful of times in her whole life.
That's what made it infectious, and my mouth curved before I could stop it. Any day I got that out of her was a win because those moments were getting rarer the closer we crept to the top.
My phone buzzed.
Ezra’s laugh cut off clean, her eyes snapping to my hand.
Valentina's message crossed my screen.
Val: Missing you!
A photo of Val and her friends came in next, all of them crammed into the Syndicate booth at Cerc, glasses raised, smiles bright and careless.
I chuckled and typed back.
Cal: Have fun, babe. I’ll see you soon.
“That Valentina?” Ezra asked.
I slid my phone into my pocket and nodded. I didn’t miss the shift in her voice, small, but there. She hid her feelings from everyone else, but I’d grown up listening between her words.
“Yeah,” I said, pushing just a little. “She was pretty upset she couldn’t come tonight.”
Ezra’s gaze drifted across the club, over the lights, the bodies, our sisters, anywhere but me. She hummed once, noncommittal.
“Mm.”
That was it.
The music kept pounding. The crowd kept moving. But something settled between us all the same. It was quiet, solid, like a wall being built one brick at a time.
I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, letting the noise wash over me.
Val wasn’t supposed to be here. Tonight was for us, the Desmond kids, before responsibility closed its grip and never let go again.
Five of us against the world.
Plus, I wasn’t the kind of man who dragged his girlfriend everywhere like a lifeline. At least… that was what I told myself.
Ezra’s silence pressed heavier than the music.
It always circled back to Valentina. Every time. No fights over power, no arguments about strategy, no sibling rivalry sharp enough to draw blood, just this one name that turned Ezra distant and closed off.
I remembered what I was thinking before I came here, and I knew, eventually, she’d have to make peace with it.
Especially if what I was planning for this weekend went through.
Ezra never did anything halfway, and if she decided to accept Val, she’d do it fully. Even if she was just doing it for me.
We’d grown up shoulder to shoulder, less than a year between us, always stationed at the front while the others ran wild behind us. We learned early how to speak plainly, how to call each other out without flinching. Nothing ever festered between us.
Except this.
With Nova and Aniyah swallowed by the dance floor and Riot pacing the edge like a sentry, there wasn’t a better moment. Public. Busy. Safe.
I drew a breath and Ezra’s phone lit up.
The change in her was instant. Her brows pinched, spine stiffened, and jaw locked. Something was bothering her badly, and the words I’d been lining up to say dissolved in an instant.
“What’s wrong?” I asked instead.
She shook her head too quickly. Her fingers tightened around the phone.
“Ezra,” I said, firmer. “I don’t like that look. Talk to me.”
Her eyes went to her lap, and I could see her conflict warring across her face, so I waited.
She finally exhaled slowly and leaned closer, voice pitched low. “Something just came up, something that I can’t miss, but I already have a collection visit set up that I shouldn't miss.”
I watched her scroll, eyes sharp but unfocused, already planning three steps ahead. Something tugged in my chest, seeing E like this, and I wanted to do something.
Val will be waiting. I’m already running late, but….
“I’ll take one,” I said.
Her head snapped up.
My smile grew wide, and I nodded to her. “Give me the one that doesn’t need you. You handle the important one.”
Her mouth twitched despite herself. “That actually helps,” she admitted. “One’s just a show of force. The other—” She looked down at her hands. “The other is about where we’re heading and the future I want to ensure.”
If there was ever a moment that Ezra needed me, I was not going to disappoint. She never let go of these types of things, and a piece of me wanted to prove to her I wasn't just the lazy Syndicate Prince. I was a boss just like her and could make people quake in their boots.
“Done.”
I clapped her shoulder, hard enough to ground her, holding the smile so she wouldn’t mistake it for obligation. Ezra carried too much alone. Always had. The rare times she let the weight slip, we needed to make sure we were there for her, every fucking time.
“So,” I said, leaning back, fangs flashing when I grinned, “who am I roughing up, and why?”
The thought of a fight settled something restless under my skin, making me feel alive. Getting the blood flowing before I needed to lay her down like it was the last night of her life.
It was efficient and productive. Sounded like a win-win to me.