Taken By Raider Kings (Ruthless Kings Of Thornhaven #6)

Chapter 1 Valentina

VALENTINA

“This time, the outfit I made for you is black. Got it?” Lexi narrows her eyes at me, as she pulls out a garment bag out of her closet.

I snort, rolling over on my belly on her plush pink bed. “I’m not sure, it depends on other people’s manners.”

Lexi stands in front of me like a general about to issue armor, holding up a garment bag with pursed lips and that look—the one that says she’s dead serious and will kill me if I ruin another of her custom outfits.

She’s the best fashion designer in Texas, like Alexander Wang with a grudge.

Every outfit is cute, a little dangerous and completely hers.

She's so talented that she will be off to the Fashion Institute of Technology in the fall, leaving me to rot out my twenties with just our other bestie Johnny, which will be hazardous at best.

“Manners or not you should not be able to destroy black, okay?” she snaps, like I am a hard-headed child who doesn’t understand how to use their ‘gentle hands’.

“I may have fucked up, because it is Black but it has hints of rainbow, because I didn’t want you to have no color, but so help me God if something happens to this outfit I will bill you.

Labor, fabric, and emotional damages. Full invoice. No family discount.”

“You know I could just wear something from my closet, right?” I say without looking up, idly flipping through an old, dog-eared Vogue that’s been sitting on her dresser since forever.

The gasp that comes out of her is so sharp it could cut glass.

I glance up just in time to catch the look on her face—pure devastation, layered with the barely restrained urge to bite my head off. Her eyes go wide, her mouth falls open like I’ve said the most offensive thing she’s ever heard.

“You…” she breathes, clutching the bag to her chest like a wounded animal. “You did not just say that to me.”

I put the magazine down and look at her with a lazy smile. “Relax, Anna Wintour. I’ll try to bring it back bloodless and in one piece.” Her nostrils flare as the red begins rising in her face, and I cock my head to the side looking at her with a smirk. “What?!”

She takes one step closer, but before Lexi becomes feral, Johnny walks out Lexi’s bedroom looking divine.

The blazer catches the moonlight spilling through the blinds, and the color shifts every time he moves—emerald one second, deep teal the next, then almost black.

No shirt underneath, because of course he decided buttons were optional, and that gold chain resting against his chest looks like it was made for sin.

The trousers are so tailored it’s insulting, hugging him in all the right ways, sequins down the side seams catching flashes of light whenever he shifts.

And then there are the boots, glossy and sharp, a silver chain glinting as he plants one foot in front of the other like he owns Lexi’s tiny apartment.

Even his nails—plum with gold accents—look like part of the damn outfit.

I’m sprawled out on her bed, one leg hanging over the side, a bag of chips and the Vogue magazine in front of me, and for a second I genuinely forget to breathe. It’s not fair, the way he pulls this off. “Okay,” I say slowly, dragging my eyes up from his boots to his face. “Wow.”

Lexi, kneeling on the floor surrounded by fabric scraps and pins, throws her hands up like a victorious god. “Right? Tell me I’m a genius.”

“You’re a menace,” I mutter, tossing a chip at her before turning back to Johnny. “And you—stop looking like you’re about to steal someone’s soul. It’s rude.”

Johnny grins, slow and dangerous, the glitter at the corners of his eyes catching in the light. “So, we like it?”

“I hate how much I like it,” I admit, unable to stop smiling. “Now take it off before you crease it.”

“Hush, you.” Lexi chides as she makes some micro adjustments to the sleeves and pant legs. “How does it feel, birthday boy?”

“It feels amazing. You’re a genius, Lexi.”

“See,” Lexi makes a wide gesture at Johnny, “That’s appreciation.” She turns back to Johnny, “Val won’t even try on her outfit,” she cries, feigning tears. “She even threatened to… wear her usual clothes.”

“Val, look at what you’re doing.” Johnny smirks as he points at Lexi’s face. I notice the cheeky grin under Lexi’s manipulative facade before she swiftly switches to her crying face. “Come on, do it for me.”

“No.” I see his smirk turn into a smile. “Don’t you dare.”

“It’s my birthday, and you haven’t been out with us for, like, three months.”

The thing about Lexi and Johnny is this—she’s my moral compass, and he’s my heart and soul.

They’re the ones who keep me grounded, happy, alive.

After my father’s death, it felt impossible to do anything but chase his killer.

And when the truth came out—that he’d been complicit in keeping me and my brother Cast apart, that he never loved me the way I thought he did—I lost more than a parent.

I lost the illusion that I mattered to him at all.

In that void, Lexi and Johnny pulled me back from the darkest version of myself.

They pieced me together, made me whole again.

I’ll never be able to repay what they’ve given me—or what they are to me.

“Fine… you’re both manipulative as fuck. You deserve each other.” I sigh, “But tell Lexi I can’t promise I won’t get into any fights.”

“Why not?” Lexi whines, keeping up her facade.

“Look, in the club, guys are touchy, girls are bitchy, and I am short-tempered. I can promise my best behavior until I get groped or someone starts talking to me like their birthday wish is a fist to their face.”

“Fine.” Lexi says, pouting, but returning to her normal self. She hands me the garment bag and leads me to the bathroom.

Inside is a black dress, cut short and sharp, the kind of dress that looks innocent until you see it on.

Layers of soft ruffles run diagonally across the skirt, catching the light with every movement.

Threaded through the folds are the smallest hints of rainbow—iridescent stitching that flashes pink, blue, and green like oil on water when it hits at the right angle.

The top half is built like armor: a structured black corset stitched right into the dress, cinched tight with glossy laces up the back. It pulls in the waist and leaves my shoulders bare, the neckline dropping low enough to promise trouble without going full chaos.

I peel out of my jeans and pull the dress up, and for a second, the fabric clinging to my skin pulls me backward.

It was a far cry from the cheap dress I wore the last time I went out. That night, I didn’t have Lexi’s perfect stitching and tiny flashes of rainbow sewn into my spine—I had polyester that smelled like vodka the second I walked through the door. A trashier fit for a trashier crowd.

Lexi hadn’t been there. She was stuck on a last-minute commission, drowning in fabric and deadlines.

Johnny was wrapped around his latest fling, too distracted to notice me slip out.

Going out on my own has never been a smart decision, but that night, I needed to forget.

Forget the way my brother’s voice sounded over the phone.

Forget my father’s betrayal. Forget that I am basically an orphan now loving a man who would have filled me first chance he got.

Forget the gnawing, ugly truth that no matter how fast I ran, my past had a way of finding me anyway.

I remember the club stinking of sweat and smoke, the bass so heavy it felt like it was knocking the air right out of my lungs.

Strangers pressed in on all sides, and for once, I let them.

I let myself dissolve into the noise. Somewhere between the crowd and the blur of neon lights, I ended up leaning too close to someone I didn’t know, flirting my way into a pill I thought would make everything quieter.

But it wasn’t just ecstasy. There was more in it—something sharp and bitter hidden under the sweet rush, something that sank its claws in and dragged me under.

The next thing I remember is red. Red floors, red hands, red breath against my face as the world spun out, and then nothing at all.

I haven’t set foot in a club since. Not until tonight.

As I exit the bathroom, I catch Johnny’s speechless awe, and Lexi squeals in excitement.

“Oh, I’m amazing! The subtle rainbow looks so exquisite.” She is jumping up and down before she begins smoothing down the bodice and readjusting the corset. “And, the corset is sturdy enough to take a few punches, while your arms and legs are free to swing away when you inevitably pick a fight.”

“Hey, I don’t start them. I finish them.”

“Oh, ok.” she mocks lightly, but her interest is stuck on her own handiwork.

“She’s right, you know. You look beautiful.” Johnny finally says, escaping his stupor.

I blush as I catch Lexi’s hands and stare into her eyes, “Lexi, it’s perfect. You’re a genius.”

I could swear I saw real tears welling up before her pride got in the way. “No shit, Sherlock. I am perfect.”

She kisses my cheek and proceeds to get herself ready.

“Thank you,” I remarked, “It’s been a minute since I’ve felt beautiful.”

“Hey, I’m just glad you’re coming out with us. It really has felt like forever since we’ve got to have any fun.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been… busy.”

Johnny makes his way to the bathroom to perfect the curls on top of his head.

I cannot tell either of them. My combative nature may be a fun joke, but I don’t think their love for me could comprehend murder.

Even I don’t really know what happened, and I’m happy to keep it that way.

Cast is doing everything he can to keep it under the radar, and so far, it’s working.

He would kill me if he knew I am going out, but I can’t say no to Lexi and Johnny forever.

Lexi’s bedroom door swings open and she steps out barefoot, still holding a brush in one hand like a microphone, posing.

The dress she’s wearing does all the talking—a sharp, asymmetrical cut in deep midnight blue that hugs her frame on one side and spills into a single draped sleeve on the other.

The hem is short in the front, longer in the back, designed to flash just enough leg when she moves.

The fabric catches light like liquid metal, sleek but still soft enough to feel easy, effortless.

Her hair’s twisted up in a messy clip for now, face bare, but even half-finished she looks like she’s already halfway to a magazine cover.

I throw my hands in the air and give the loudest, most obnoxious round of applause I can muster as Lexi yanks Johnny out of the bathroom like he’s being dragged offstage.

“What the hell! It’s my birthday!” he yells, scandalized.

“Yes, and as a second present,” she fires back without missing a beat, “I’m making sure you walk in with two beautiful baddies on your arms. Now, move.”

She shoves him toward the hallway, then snatches my wrist before I can even blink and pulls me inside, slamming the door shut behind us.

I plop down on the toilet lid, laughing as she lines up her makeup tools on the sink like she’s about to perform surgery. Brushes, palettes, glitter—an entire arsenal. When she turns to me, that grin of hers is pure trouble, sharp and bright and impossible not to match.

“Now,” Lexi says, eyes gleaming as she picks up the first brush, “let’s change history.”