The Wedding Debt: Chapter 2

The dead body on the floor doesn’t faze me anymore.

I’ve seen plenty before on our trips downtown when my father’s men had to kill someone, and he made my brother and me watch.

The only thing that’s got me silent now is the fact that the person holding the gun is my own father.

He always said these were dirty chores best left to our men. But I also know the rules can always be broken, particularly by us.

And especially when it’s to save one of our own.

My brother crawls up from the ground, bloodied, wounded. There are cuts all over his back, sharp, like those from a knife. A guard supports him while my dad kills the people in this warehouse one by one until no one is left but us.

When he comes back, he sighs and cleans his gun. The silence is deafening.

“Sorry,” my brother says.

Even though he’s the one who got hurt.

“Don’t ever come out here and try to do my business by yourself again.”

“Yes, Dad.” Liam can’t even look at him.

It’s his fault we’re here. Dad had to come save him after he tried to run off and prove how strong he is and that he’s old enough.

“I get that you want more responsibility, Liam, but now you understand why I’m still the one who runs the show.” He tucks his gun away and looks at us. When his hand drops on both my brother’s and my shoulder, I’m knocked back into the moment.

“But your enthusiasm doesn’t go unnoticed. I’ll bring you two along for my daily trips around the city from now on so you can get a feel for how the business is really run.” He pats Liam a few times. “You okay, son?”

Liam nods even though I’m sure all those wounds must hurt like hell.

Pain is for the weak. At least, that’s what Dad says, and I believe him.

After all, Liam is still alive. These men who tried to hurt him are not.

“Good. We’ll get the doc to check you out once we get home,” he says. “Now, hold out your hands. Both of you.”

I do what he asks while throwing glances at my brother, wondering what the fuck is going on.

Dad pushes something into our hands. A gold-plated knife with markings on it.

“Keep that on you at all times. Use it when you need to.”

I swallow at the thought of slicing through someone the same way they tried to slice through my brother. Not because it scares me … but because it excites me.

And I can’t fucking wait to put this thing to good use.

Age 14

Another boring day, another boring party somewhere in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of people I don’t know and don’t want to know either. I grab a stick off the ground and sway it around in the grass, chopping it up while I pretend I’m fighting rivals of our family.

All that yapping at the party distracts me from my game. Ever since we moved to the Netherlands, it’s been nothing but business, and I’m bored as hell.

I sigh and shrug it off, waltzing around the grass, trying to find something interesting to poke like a frog. But when I walk around the bush, I find something way more interesting.

Jill Baas is crouched down near a creek outside the premises wearing a really strange fluffy red dress that looks handmade.

What the hell is she doing there?

I quickly make my way there, glancing over my shoulder to ensure no one sees me because our parents told us not to go behind the fenced-off area. But I’m not the only one who never listens to the rules.

As I approach her, I sneak a peek over her shoulder. She’s holding something in her hands, but I can’t make out what it is.

“What have you got there?”

“Ah!” She shrieks so loudly that she falls down on her butt. “Oh my God, don’t scare me like that!”

I snort. “Chicken.”

She smashes her fist on my foot, and I jump up and down in pain. “Fuck! Why’d you have to do that?!”

“That’s what you get for scaring me,” she retorts. “Look at what you did!” She points at something in front of her, something flailing around in the creek.

“What is it?” I ask, getting up close.

“A bunny. It got stuck, and I almost had it pulled out until you scared it away,” she hisses at me.

“A bunny?” I say, throwing her a look. “That’s why you’re behind the fence? Because of some bunny?”

“It’s not just a bunny.” She gets up and puts her hand against her side. “And it deserves help.”

I shrug. “Bunnies can swim.”

“Not when their paws might be broken,” she spits back. “And if you’re not going to help me, back off and leave me alone.”

Her sudden spunk shuts me up momentarily as she returns her attention back to the bunny. She reaches for it with her bare hands, but it’s out of reach. The bunny is stuck on a branch a little farther up ahead, squealing for help.

I take another glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is looking before I push Jill aside and lean in with my stick, poking the bunny.

“Hey!” Jill yells, trying to push me away too.

Right then, the bunny falls into the water, and I hold the stick in front of the water flow until it stops the bunny.

“Don’t hurt it!” Jill tugs at my pants, but I shove her away. “Asshole.”

In a quick move, I flick the stick forward to the edge of the creek and lift the bunny from the water. It’s soaked and crying, and I hold it close to inspect its paw. There’s a wire around its paw that kept it from moving properly, so I rip it off and check the wound. No blood.

“There. It’s fine,” I say.

When I turn to Jill, her eyes are sparkling, and there’s a glossy glow on her face. “Thank you.”

I frown. “I didn’t do it for you.”

She grins and licks her lips as she looks away. “Fine. As long as the bunny is safe.”

And somehow, that makes me hate her even more.

Why is she so nice to literally everything and everyone around her?

Why do I even care?

When she tries to grab the bunny, I move away from her.

The look on her face immediately turns sour. “Luca … C’mon. Let me have it.”

“No.”

She freezes. “I found it first.”

I clutch the bunny closer. “And I saved it.”

Her nostrils flare, and her eyes almost spew lightning at me. “Luca …” She growls. “Give. Me. The. Bunny.”

“No.” I pick up the stick and use it as a sword, defending myself. “Finders keepers. It’s my bunny now.”

Now I’ve really set her off, and her expression is nothing short of amazing.

She almost explodes. “Luca!”

My mouth bursts into a devious grin. “Come and get it.” And I run away as hard as I can with that stupid bunny in my hand, darting through the grass, running on nothing but pure adrenaline.

Because to me, nothing is funnier than pissing off Jill Baas.

And taking whatever happiness she has and making it mine.

Jill

Age 18

“You’ve got the money?” a man in a dirty trench coat mouths to my father.

My mother’s hand clenches tightly around mine while she holds Jasmine’s in her other as we all watch the men from an appropriate distance. My father wouldn’t want us to get too involved yet. It’s still his business, after all.

Not any kind of business I’d ever want to be involved in, but my mother still forced me to come so I can “learn the ropes.” And in this family, choice doesn’t exist.

“It’s all in here,” my father says, as one of our guards hands over the soaked briefcase.

The businessman flicks his fingers, and one of his guards approaches my father to take the case from him. But my eyes can’t help skim over the gun hidden underneath his belt buckle. My stomach almost flips over at the sight.

Whatever my father is buying, I don’t want to know, and I don’t care.

I just want this to be over already.

The guard checks the contents of the briefcase and nods at his superior, who smiles in agreement.

“Our employees will be very happy with this trade,” the man says.

Employees from back in the States, no doubt. My father’s dirty contacts from when we still lived there.

“Great. I take it the men at The Ruin will accept me as their trading partner?” my father replies.

The guy pulls a cigar from his pocket and throws one at my father, who looks at it like it’s the finest cigar he’s ever seen. He brings it to his nose and smells it.

“Fuente …” he murmurs.

“Only the best of the best when you work with The Ruin,” the man replies with a wink.

Another guard approaches my father and places a huge box in front of his feet.

“That’s only a small fraction.”

A guard opens up the box, but I can’t see what’s inside as it’s turned away from us.

“What is it?” Jasmine asks our mother.

“You’ll see later,” she responds, keeping her eyes on the men, but her nails are digging into my skin as if she’s nervous too.

“Happy, Hugo?” the man asks my father.

“More than happy,” my father replies as the guard closes the box and two of them haul it to the back of the car.

“I’ll let my employees know about our negotiations,” the trader replies. “I’m sure they are delighted to have you as a partner.”

My father nods. “At least let me offer you a drink before you’re off.”

Of course he’s trying to make friends with the slime. What a surprise.

The man raises his hand. “As much as I would love to take you up on that offer, we have a flight to catch back to Desolation.”

“Desolation?” I whisper. “Where the hell is that?”

“New York,” my mother whispers back. “But just watch them, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” I know she wants me to learn, but I don’t think I want to learn any of this.

“Of course, of course,” my father says to the man.

“But you will hear from us,” the man replies. “Good luck with your endeavors.”

“Likewise,” my father responds. “Have a great evening, gentlemen.”

The men in the coat salute my father, and he turns around and walks back to his black car with dark windows and gets inside, after which his guards finally pull back and hop in too. The car drives off, and I’m left with a nasty feeling deep inside my stomach.

My father rubs his hands together as he comes back toward us. We were huddling in a corner underneath a small ledge of the building. But when my father pulls us in for a big hug, it’s almost like we’re a normal family.

“Great job, honey,” my mother tells him.

He kisses her on the cheeks and me on the forehead.

“Good day today, Vera. A very good day.” He puts his arm through my mother’s, and my mother grabs my hand to pull me along. “Let’s go to Van Buren’s. I’m in the mood for a celebration!”

My ears perk up when he mentions the name of the high-end restaurant in town that we go to every week. “Oh, I love it there.”

“You’ll do plenty of business there once you’re old enough.” My father grabs my cheek and squeezes so hard it hurts. He walks back to the car and opens the car door for us. “The De Voses are waiting for us.”

Oh … Of course.

Why did I ever think anything other than business would go on in this household?

I sigh out loud, but my father ignores my grumbles as we get in, and the door is closed behind us.

I’m so not looking forward to seeing Luca De Vos again.

Because if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that an asshole only grows up to be an even bigger asshole.