CHAPTER TWO: I Will Bury You Under It

On the southern side of the Capital city, the atmosphere was different. The Retroferd estate, twice the size of the Valente's, was a place of absolute power.

The fortress of the family that had spent twenty years sabotaging the Valente bloodline. 

The feud had been vicious, killing sons and brothers on both sides, leaving behind a trail of grief that had finally forced the two monsters at the top to shake hands.

Inside the study, the silence was heavy. Don Maxton Retroferd sat behind a desk carved from dark mahogany that looked like it belonged in a museum. He was thirty-eight years old, at the peak of his power, and possessed a laser-focused intensity that made most men choke on their words. He was currently reviewing shipping documents, his eyes scanning the fine print with the predatory stillness of a hawk.

In front of the desk, the silence was being disturbed by the frantic pacing of Evan Retroferd.

Evan was twenty-seven, the spoiled nephew of the Don, and currently, his face was filled with terror and sweat. He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his expensive designer jacket, his eyes darting toward Maxton every few seconds. He had been standing there for nearly half an hour, filled with a nervous energy that was starting to fill the room.

Evan tried to wait. He really did, but the ticking of the clock on the wall felt like a countdown to his execution, and he couldn't keep it in anymore.

"Uncle, please," Evan started, his voice cracking. "You can’t be serious about this. Not her…Not a bloody Valente."

Maxton didn’t look up and didn't even blink. He simply turned a page, the crisp sound of the paper sounding really loud in the quiet room.

"Raina Valente is a pit bull in a skirt, Uncle!" Evan’s voice rose as he gained momentum, his hands gesturing wildly.

"I’ve heard stories about how deranged and unstable she is. She spends her nights in underground cages punching men twice her size for fun. She’s a total misfit! She attacks people without a reason…You’re asking me to put a fucking viper in my bed!"

Maxton continued to read, his pen scratching a signature onto a document.

When Evan saw that Maxton hadn’t immediately signaled his guards to throw him out of the study, he took it as a sign to push harder. He leaned over the desk, his shadow falling across Maxton’s paperwork.

"She doesn’t even fit my taste, Uncle. You know the kind of women I like…The refined, soft and elegant kind. Raina is a violent animal and I wouldn't date that girl if she was the last woman on this earth, let alone marry her. It’s an insult! My friends will laugh at me and the whole city will see me as the man who had to marry a thug to save his family."

Maxton finally stopped. He laid his pen down with a slow, deliberate movement, before he looked up. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. His grey eyes were like shards of ice, boring into Evan with a frown that could make a grown man’s heart stop.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion, Evan," Maxton said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an immense weight. "In fact, I don't recall asking you a single question…I gave you an order."

Evan trembled, his knees visibly shaking, but the desperation in his chest was still clawing for a way out. He could feel Maxton’s judgment and he knew his uncle saw right through his playboy act.

"I am done wasting this family’s resources covering up your messy, reckless life," 

Maxton continued, his voice cold and emotionless. "Every time you get caught with drugs, every time you beat a girl too hard and I have to pay her family to disappear, you cost me a lot of money. 

You are a liability. So, for the first time in your useless life, you are going to make yourself useful. You will marry the Valente girl, you will secure the peace, and you will do it with a smile on your face."

"Uncle, please," Evan whispered, his face turning extremely pale. "I’ll do anything else, I’ll run the docks or go to the Chicago branch. Just don't tie me to that monster. Give me anyone else…Anyone!"

Maxton leaned back, his eyes narrowing. "You want an alternative? Fine. It’s very simple. You either marry Raina Valente in forty-eight hours, or I pack you into a crate and send you to the family’s shadow training base for one year."

Evan’s breath hitched and his face turned a ghostly white. The Shadow Training Base wasn't just a rumor, it was the Retroferd family's private hell.

"The..the..base?" Evan stuttered, his voice barely audible.

"The base," Maxton confirmed, with a grim expression. "It’s an underground facility carved into the heart of the mountains. No sunlight or luxuries that you are used to. Just a year of being broken down and 'rebuilt' into a soldier. Or, as is more common with boys like you, just being broken."

Maxton leaned forward, his gaze intensifying. "The instructors there don't care about your last name, they only care about results and then there are the 'Janitors.' Do you know who they are, Evan? They are the men who come in at the end of every week to clean up the mess. They carry out the bodies of the ones who weren't strong enough to survive the week…No one knows where the bodies go. They just... vanish."

Evan’s knees gave out slightly, and he had to grab the edge of the desk to keep himself from falling. The image of the Janitors hauling his lifeless body into a mountain crevice flashed through his mind. 

He wasn't a fighter, he was a predator of the weak, a man who hid behind his uncle's shadow. He wouldn't last a single night in that place.

"I... I understand," Evan stuttered, his head bowed, looking like a broken dog. "I'll do it

…I'll marry Raina."

Maxton watched him for a long moment, searching for any sign of defiance. Evan kept his gaze on the floor, his shoulders slumped in defeat. To anyone watching, it looked like he had finally been tamed. But beneath the lowered lashes, Evan’s eyes were darting toward the window of the study.

In his mind, he was already miles away. He knew the layout of the estate, which guards could be bribed and which ones slept on the midnight shift. He was already calculating the distance to the nearest private airfield. He would agree to the wedding, wait for the right second, and then he would vanish. 

He’d rather be a fugitive on a beach in South America than a husband to a Valente or a corpse in the mountains.

Maxton slowly stood up. He was a head taller than Evan, and was well built. He stepped around the desk, the floorboards groaning under his weight. When he got close enough to Evan, he reached out and gripped his shoulder.

It wasn't a gesture of affection. Maxton’s hand clamped down with such force that Evan winced, feeling the bones of his shoulder groan under the pressure.

"Listen to me very carefully, Evan," Maxton said, his face inches from his nephew's. "This alliance is the only thing standing between this city and a total bloodbath. I have lost too many good men to this feud to let it continue because of your cowardice."

Maxton’s grip tightened further, his thumb digging into the muscles on Evans shoulder.

"If you embarrass this family," Maxton whispered, his voice vibrating with a cold promise, "If you ruin this ceremony or fail to show up, I won't send you to the base… I’ll bury you under it. Do you understand me?"

Evan nodded frantically, his eyes wide with terror. "Yes, Uncle.. I..I understand. I’ll be there…I promise."

Maxton stared at him for a few more seconds, before releasing him. Without another word, the Don turned and walked out of the study, his footsteps echoing down the long hallway.

The moment the heavy doors clicked shut behind Maxton, the terror on Evan’s face vanished instantly.

The trembling of his body stopped, his slumped shoulders straightened, and he slowly reached up and adjusted his jacket, a dark, chilling smirk spreading across his lips. The fearful playboy was gone, replaced by a man whose eyes were filled with a sudden, sharp hatred.

He stared at the door Maxton had just passed through, his breathing evening out as his mind finalized his escape plan. He wasn't going to be anyone’s pawn. Not his uncle's, and certainly not the Valentes.

He reached into his pocket, feeling the encrypted burner phone he had hidden there. He flipped it open and typed a single message. The deal is on, have the plane ready by tomorrow night.

He looked back at the door, his smirk widening into a cold grin.

"You really underestimate me, Uncle," he whispered into the silent room.