Chapter One

• DAMIAN •

The ripping sound of braided leather striking against raw flesh echoed in the room. Anger burned right through my veins as my hands fired down in hastened motions, tearing through the flesh on Bernardo's back.

Shackles strung by chains suspended him from the ceiling, rattling as his screams erupted with every stroke. His filthy mouth had dared to consider her a prostitute. I could hear his inquiry from last night being whispered right into my ears, pissing me off even more.

"Who exactly is the prostitute you were referring to?" I questioned, wrapping the whip tighter around my hand. "Can't speak?"

Bernardo's whimpers were quiet, his body threatening to convulse at any moment. Blood spurred out of the lines marring his once smooth skin and brought a smile to my face. The mission had been simple. Retrieve an unconscious Ramiro and make sure the witness was taken care of. But finding her wasn't on the agenda.

She just had to be the one dining with that monster. And to hear her regarded as such by this man - one of my own, didn't do much for my annoyance. I drew my hand back for another strike when the doors to the room slid open.

I had made myself clear. If anyone disturbed me, they'd face ten times the punishment. But I turned to the meet the smirking face of my younger brother, Dario, leaning against the door frame. "How selfish could you be? I told you to invite me for your next discipline session." Dario shut the door behind him, striding to Bernardo's limp body, eyes lit with interest.

The sadistic bastard made me seem like an angel when he stood next to me. He was clad in scrubs underneath a white lab cloak. Probably coming straight from the operating room.

I cocked an eyebrow his way. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you'd be more excited. When was thee last time you heard from me?"

"Two days ago." I said, letting out a sigh as his laughter rang out. He made his way towards Bernardo, slowly taking a scalpel from the array of tools laid out on a table beside him. Like an artist with a paintbrush, he used Bernardo's back as a canvas, piercing beneath the flesh of the open wounds and wrenching them further apart.

Bernardo thrashed against the chains, guttural screams convulsing from deep within his throat. "Please," His pleas are drowned out by Dario's laughter.

I watched his eyes alight with pleasure, something father had loved about his last son. Amongst the five known children of Giuliano Gianpiero, Dario was known to be the only one who truly derived pleasure — whether angry or at peace — from hurting or killing people.

The only thing holding him back was the leash father had placed around his neck. Lest the world would burn beneath his feet. Yet, some of our men thought I was vicious.

"That's enough."

Dario let out a sigh of protest as his bloody hand retracted from Bernando who had most likely lost consciousness.

He turned to me with a semi-satisfied smile, "Next time, Brother, give me the heads up. Father has me stuck attending this meetings and sticking to surgery, while -" He points the red stained scalpel towards the body, "The action is happening around here. It used to be so fun."

Yes, hunting runaway made men and the French Mob were the good old days when our success was rewarded with father's scarce affection. Now, nothing seemed to be enough for him even after we all agreed to take part in the front organization of our family.

"Stop acting like you don't find ways to keep yourself entertained," I smirked as his face feigned ignorance. "Now, what did you really come here for?"

Dario dropped the scalpel back and held his hands behind him. "Leon called for a meeting and asked me to get you. After what I heard about what happened last night, I figured you'd be holed up in here."

I wiped my hands clean and threw a towel over to him. "Stop threatening my men for information."

He holds his hands up in surrender. "If you let me in on what's going on with you, I wouldn't have to."

I swallowed back the words I wanted to say and moved to leave. After giving the men stationed at the door instructions, I let my mind wander as we made our way from my town house to Leon's within our estate.

Silence settled over us from the short drive and the walk down the hallway to the study our elder brother resided in. It had been a while since we all met to discuss anything.

Barely two years ago, the foundation of our family had been rocked hard against the floors of the world we thrived in. A rift no one could have predicted emerged and now, it felt like we were strangers tip toeing around our issues and going about pretending that life hadn't shaken the core of our resolves.

Finding Leonelli at the far end of the room, sipping on whiskey and staring out of his floor-to-ceiling window behind his desk, was the most ordinary occurrence.

He never turned to greet us or react as the doors shut until our footsteps bound against the hardwood floor, settling at his table. "Brothers." The icy temperance of his words didn't come as a shock to us anymore. It was a distant acknowledgment.

Like he was referring to mere soldiers and sworn men.

"Have you ever been late to a meeting father called for?" He turned to us now, dark eyes filled with anger and malice. His lips are drawn in a hard line. "I might be acting in his stead but I expect the same respect you give to your Don and nothing less."

"Yes, sir." Dario and I muttered in unison, bowing our heads to him.

"Damian." I looked up to meet his gaze. "You and your men intercepted Ramiro like you were supposed to, yet you found a way to eliminate him and keep the witness alive. Which way was it originally supposed to go?"

I swallowed hard, avoiding direct contact with his eyes. "My men made a grave mistake on the part of Ramiro. They stumbled on a situation and intercepted without orders. I've disciplined the one at fault."

"Or rather, the one that called that interest of yours a whore."

The burning rage I felt a few moments ago returned as my eyes fell on my brother's daunting ones. He smirked, the only part of him that wasn't solely rigid.

My hands balled into fists, settling behind me. I wouldn't give him a reason to get under my skin. Not again. "Brother, I would ask, for old times sake, that you refrain from calling any interest of mine by such derogatory terms."

Leon stepped forward, closing in until he was merely a feet apart from me. "And if I do? You'll string me up and beat me or better still, poison me while I sleep?"

I pushed hard against his chest, pulling him closer by his collar as his laughter rang out. Dario pried me away from the ego testing match we were having, whispering calming words. I knew Leon had lost all sense of rationality months ago, but crossing the line was a new one.

"For old times sake, I will forget this happened, Brother. But if you as much as raise a finger next to me again, I will skin you alive and break every usable bone within your body, are we clear?"

A grunt of acknowledgment slipped past my lips and we finally settle down in our seats, Leon taking his place behind his desk. The humor on his face from before is long gone as he leans forward on his forearms. "Father called last night. There's some good news but the bad news trumps it."

"Hit us with the bad news first" Dario sighs, boredom resting on his face.

"He wants us to plan Valerio's Fifteenth death anniversary." Dario stiffened beside me. I could feel his heart thumping from where I sat. It was a three sixty turn from his carefree expression. A frown graced his lips and the next words that left his mouth were expected.

"I'd rather die than plan anything that has to do with that thing." He leaned back in his seat, visibly shaken.

"You think Father isn't anticipating this reaction?" Leon muttered, eyes looking straight ahead, "He'll look for the slightest means of weakness to figure out if we had something to do with the situation. I gladly told him that we would accept."

Dario's eyes widened and his frown deepened but He made no remark. The Acting Don had given his command. We would certainly have to follow whatever instructions. I felt ill even thinking about the ordeal.

Having to dig out old photographs and unearth the worst memories our family buried deep within. Dario would naturally feel the brunt of the pain, the monster we'd once called older brother, would resurface scars that were still barely healing.

"And for the good news," Leon leaned back in his seat, a satisfied smile gracing his lips. "Father's physician confirmed what we'd been suspecting."

He remained silent to give room for the anticipation before saying, "Father has only a few months left to live. It's high time we double back on our promise."

His words floated around the air, settling over us like a comfortable blanket. The promise we'd made as kids with an ambition that some would only laugh at.

Valerio had merely been a stepping stone. And for the first time in months, we all shared a knowing smile, our tension temporarily forgotten.

It was time that we fulfilled our oaths.