“Brielle Wallace, do you take Ace Reynolds to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
The priest inquired gently, his gaze and every other gaze in the cathedral, including the cold one in front of me, settled on me, anticipating that I replied with a “yes”. Maybe they all expected I smiled along with my answer, which was so ridiculous considering no one thought I would be asked this silly question until a few minutes earlier. I was dressed to be the bridesmaid, not the bride. I wasn't supposed to be the bride, my sister was. This wasn't my fate, it was my sister’s. When I was very young, my mother always read this bedtime story to me. It was about a princess who got her fate swapped with a river goddess by merely standing by the riverside. I always thought it was a ridiculous story because I didn't believe such a crucial thing as one’s fate could be swapped in a split second. Now, I understand. Indeed, it was possible. It was feasible because it just happened to me. All my dreams of finally moving in with my boyfriend while I prepare for college, and live happily ever after with him, came crashing in just a split second. A few minutes ago, I was sending my sister off to the dangerous yet, wickedly handsome mob boss now, they are sending me off to him. A few minutes ago When Brielle had broken the news of her engagement with Ace Reynolds, I had immediately frozen in my spot. I was certain I misheard until she said the name again, without an ounce of fear, unlike when we maliciously spoke about him five nights back. Ace Reynolds - ruler of the five kingdoms. Dad ran a wine company that delivered wines and other alcohols to a casino owned by a mafia group so, about the mafia world and how it was run, we knew just as much. And when I say much, I mean Ace Reynolds. Ace Reynolds heads the five biggest mafia families around the globe - the Russian mafia, the Italian mafia, the Chicago mafia, the Japanese mafia, and the Mexican mafia. He was their ruler - he gave out orders and implemented them. Fearless, ruthless, and of course, deadly. Ace Reynolds was said to be a hundred times more ruthless than every other Mafia Dons. And true to the rumors, I had witnessed him taking a man’s head with an axe and smirking thereafter. That scenario haunted me for days. It only slowly began to fade when Isobel slept in my room after I appealed to her. On her fourth night of sleeping in my room, we had maliciously gossiped about Ace Reynolds through the night. I remembered Isobel hatefully calling him a devil. I remembered her hoping all the dreams she had about his death would become a reality. I remembered the way she sounded so spiteful towards him and how her face had crunched in disgust whenever she made mention of his name. So, I was certain she was probably pulling a prank when she said he was her husband-to-be. I waited and waited. Waited for her to tell me she was just fooling around. And when it didn't seem like it, I confronted her and she once again confirmed that it was exactly as I heard her. She was getting married to Ace Reynolds. Surprisingly, she refused to share the details of their encounter with me or how they came to the conclusion of marriage. Actually, she had been rather distant with me ever since she made that awful announcement. Whenever I attempted to strike up a conversation, she always found a way to avoid getting too involved in the conservation and gave me curt replies. I couldn't summon the chance to confront her about it and when I finally did, on her wedding day, she had disappeared, her wedding gown lying helplessly on her queen-sized bed. Everyone, especially my father, almost ran mad searching for her. The more we searched, the closer it got for her to be expected before the priest, beside her husband-to-be. And, when I thought Father was finally going to call off the wedding as I expected him to a few minutes earlier, he made that ridiculous request. “What?” My voice couldn't contain the shock I felt as it was rather above a whisper. “Brielle, I have guests waiting outside. Important guest so to speak.” I blinked, hoping to hear the part that had to do with replacing my sister as Ace Reynolds’ bride. “Remember Connell?” Yes, I remember him very well which is why I'm even more confused as to what he has to do with the ridiculous request. “He is also here. After many months of trying to secure a deal with him, he finally honored it. Certainly, disappointment shouldn't be in my book.” He paused or stopped talking. I just couldn't believe he was done laying down his reasons for the ludicrous request. I started from him to my mother who just stood behind him like his pet, not saying anything or doing anything. That's what she had always been to my father - a pet. She knows nothing more than to support every word he says with a nod or a “Your father is right.” Sometimes, I don't bother asking her opinion on things because I know it would end with a “Your father is right.” I stepped backward, almost tripping on my bridesmaids' attire of a sage green bodycon dress with stones from the chest area down to the waist. “You’d better be joking. Because, what the hell?” Now, my voice was trembling because neither of them looked anything like they could crack a smile in the next millionth year and call it a joke afterward. This is bad. No. No. It can't be. “Please, Dad, don't let me do this.” A tear dropped and slid down my eyes. I was terrified enough when my sister swore she was happy with her decision to get married to him and showed it. She looked happy. No, Isobel looked in love with Ace Reynolds. But, I was still terrified on her behalf. That man terrified me and the thought of him with my sister sent shivers running down my spine. And, how about the thought of him with me? “No! Hell no! No way in hell!” “Then, what other choice do we have?” Mother finally spoke. I almost ignored her, pretending like she was never there like I always do because her presence was as useless as her opinions. “We found Isobel! Postpone the wedding until further notice! Do something except make me marry that man in her place!” I trembled, my lips quivering as I did. “Brielle darling,” Oh, how I hated those words of endearment! He used it on me only when he needed something. “Most of my guests are from other countries. I can't have them fly all the way here and fly back without the wedding happening.” “You can, dad. You actually can. If you consider the position you are putting me in, trust me, you can!” “Brielle! Just do this for me, please. And when we find your sister, she can take back her position. But, for once in your life, do something for the family!” I stared back at him, uncontrollable tears trickling down my eyes, ruining my makeup and in a few minutes, my makeup was redone and I was walking down the aisle as the bride. The wedding dress was exactly my size. Isobel and I shared the same size, which is why she could steal my clothes and sometimes make them permanently hers. I had always watched as she stole every accessory I owned. And, I had planned to steal her most valuable dress one day as revenge. Who knew that valuable dress was going to be her wedding gown? The guests got up to welcome me, clapping and whooping as I walked past them, down the aisle. I looked through the crowd, they all looked genuinely happy for me. If only they knew. As my gaze traveled around the crowd, they stopped at the man with his groomsmen, standing by the pulpit. I almost halted on the spot as his cold gaze regarded me, taking me in. The first and last time we met was at the casino. I was expected to deliver drinks and beverages to the casino and that was when I saw him, his back to me, standing behind a man tied to a chair. I quickly reached for a place to hide and observed the scene from my hiding place. Ace Reynolds hadn't said much compared to all the ramblings the man did, before he reached for an axe on the table and struck it at once, leaving the man’s head dangling off to the floor. I had let out a shriek where I hid and he’d turned to me, regarding me with that same cold gaze. My sweaty hand started trembling and I could feel a bile building in my throat and nauseous feelings in the pit of my stomach. I could throw up the cupcake I had angrily shoved down my throat early this morning. No, I can't! I can't, not now. I approached the altar and Father took my hand and offered it to Ace who took it immediately. I didn't ignore the way shivers ran down my spine when I felt his cold hand on mine. Strong and rough yet cold. I almost wrenched out of his hold and scrambled into a hole to hide. The priest began the marriage rite. This is really happening. In every word the priest spoke, I would gaze at the entrance distractingly, expecting Isobel to burst through those doors, apologize for her brief absence, and take back her place. But, it never happened. No Isobel. Just me and her man tying the freaking knot. “You may now kiss.” My heart bounced and my gaze quickly darted to Ace. He inched forward, grabbing my hand in his rough ones. I let out a gasp when he suddenly grabbed my waist and forced me closer to him. Then, something terrifying happened. Ace brought his thumb to my lips and caressed it gently, gazing down at them lustfully. Like I was at a dinner he urgently needed to devour. Then, he leaned closely and whispered; “You have no idea how long I have been wanting to know what this tasted like.” I had no time to react, I had only gasped when he swallowed my gasp into his mouth, capturing my lips to his.Warmth. That’s the first sensation that filters through the haze of sleep. Not just the warmth of the sun spilling through the slightly parted curtains of our hidden coastal cottage, painting stripes of gold across the simple wooden floor. It’s the warmth radiating from the solid wall of muscle pressed against my back. The heavy, possessive weight of Ace’s arm draped over my waist, his hand splayed possessively low on my stomach, fingers twitching faintly even in sleep. His breath is a steady, warm rhythm against the nape of my neck, stirring the fine hairs there. For a long, luxurious moment, I simply exist within this cocoon. Safe. Sheltered. *His*.A slow smile spreads across my face, so wide it feels like it might crack the remnants of the girl I used to be. The girl who dreamed of hockey captains and vanilla for the first time. The girl who thought the worst thing that could happen was a bad grade or a missed party. That girl feels like a character from someone else’s story now,
The conversation deepens over a second glass. Rogue details the history of the Key – forged by a paranoid Azura Don centuries ago, the specific vault it accesses deep beneath a ruined Azura stronghold in Hokkaido, now buried and warded. He explains Elias Vance learned the destruction ritual – involving submerging the Key in a specific volcanic pool under a full moon – from Anya herself, who stole the knowledge. Silas stands stiffly, chastened, occasionally adding grim details about the dangers still lurking around the Key's legend – rogue factions, greedy collectors. The atmosphere shifts from confrontation to wary collaboration. Ace remains guarded but engaged, the revelation about his mother a seismic shift in his understanding of his own past.The details Rogue laid out were intricate, laced with history and danger, but they held the ring of truth. The volcanic pool, the ritual under the moon, the specific location – it wasn't just plausible; it felt like the kind of arcane safegua
He took another sip of scotch, his gaze distant, lost in memory. "She lived under our protection for years. Raised her son. Kept her head down. We became her family, of a sort. Elias… he grew fond of her. Protective. Like a daughter." Rogue’s eyes snapped back to me, sharp and clear. "He *was* fond of her. When she… when she was taken from us, by that brute you called father…" A flicker of genuine, cold anger passed over Rogue’s scarred face. "Elias wanted vengeance. Wanted to burn your father’s world down. But Anya… before she died, she made him promise. Promise to leave you out of it. To let you live, if you could. She believed the cycle had to end."The pieces were crashing together with brutal, heartbreaking clarity. My mother’s fear, her isolation, her whispered warnings about men who owned shadows. Her desperate attempts to shield me. Her death… not just at my father’s hands, but under the shadow of a past she’d tried so desperately to escape. And this man, Elias Vance, the Thir
A ghost of a smile touched Rogue’s lips, not reaching his eyes. "Point taken. The audience is dismissed." He didn’t raise his voice, but the effect was immediate. Silas hesitated, looking like he wanted to protest, but one icy glance from Rogue silenced him. He jerked his head, and the men around the perimeter melted back into the deeper shadows near the walls, disappearing like wraiths. Only Silas remained, hovering awkwardly a few feet behind Rogue, radiating resentment."Better?" Rogue asked, turning his attention back to me. He gestured towards the far end of the warehouse, where a small, incongruous island of light and relative order existed. An old, scarred oak desk, two heavy leather armchairs, and a sideboard holding crystal decanters glinted under a single, suspended industrial lamp. "Join me. We have much to discuss. And I find difficult conversations flow easier with good scotch."Scotch. An offer of hospitality in the belly of the beast. Another move designed to unsettle.
The Capo’s venomous whisper hung in the dusty, charged air of the warehouse like poison gas. *Sundown tomorrow.* The ultimatum wasn’t just a threat; it was a timer strapped to the fragile peace Brielle and I had clawed out of the wreckage of our lives. The image of our cabin, the smell of pine and Brielle’s lavender soap, the ridiculous stack of pancakes we’d shared just this morning – all of it consumed by fire, by *them* – ignited a cold, focused fury in my core. My hand didn’t just twitch near my hip; my fingers curled, phantom sensations of the Sig Sauer’s textured grip already there. Five feet. I could close that distance before his men could fully clear leather. Tear out his throat with my bare hands. Paint the rusted metal walls with Eagle Brother grey matter.But Brielle. Brielle was out there, watching, waiting for my signal. A signal I hadn’t given. A signal I couldn’t give if I started a bloodbath right now. Her safety was the only chain holding back the rabid beast that li
He stops about fifteen feet away. The weak light from a high window catches his face. Older than I expected. Late fifties, maybe. Hair steel-grey, cropped short. A face carved from granite, weathered and hard, marked by a deep scar running from his left temple down to his jawline. Pale, icy blue eyes that hold no warmth, only a calculating intelligence. He wears a long, dark wool coat, open, over a simple black sweater. No visible weapon, but the threat emanates from him like radiation."Ace Reynolds," he says. His voice is deep, gravelly, like stones grinding together. It carries easily in the vast space. No question. A statement of fact. "Or whatever you call yourself these days."I stop, meeting his gaze squarely. "Names are fluid. Power is not. You were summoned. I came." I keep my voice flat, neutral. Giving nothing away.A flicker of something – respect? Amusement? – passes through his cold eyes. "The Crown of Azura. Bold. Reckless. Or desperate." He takes a single step closer.