Once We Were Brothers Novels & Stories

Only the way they spoke, the way they carried themselves… that was the only thing separating them. “Did my brother say something to piss you off?” Luke asked again, glancing at me like he could already tell something was wrong. “No, he didn’t,” I answered softly. “I was just surprised… how you two look almost the same.” A small smirk pulled at Luke’s lips, and when we stepped out of the mansion, he let go of my hand and shoved it into his pocket. “We’re not the same,” he said calmly. “We might look alike, but Asher is a strong-headed guy.”

After we got home Jackson came to our room and asked me to have a chat with him and his brother Finn. Mates. They were my mates. Both of them. Brothers. But my mates. How did that even make any sense? I don’t know what to do now, I’m laying in bed worried about having to choose and break one of these men. But not only breaking one of them but breaking their bonds as brothers! How was I supposed to do something like that? I couldn’t believe that a few weeks ago I was alone just worrying about keeping myself safe and now I had to worry about who to give my heart and soul to. It seemed surreal, I never pictured myself in a problem like this, I was great at running and hiding but I knew I couldn

“I’ll avenge June! I’ll slaughter every last zombie! “Right now, the most important thing is to get me out of here, Eira.” Castiel’s words made me laugh bitterly. “You killed June. Her death was your fault, not anyone else’s. What makes you think I would help you?!” Castiel roared in rage, “Eira, she was just an outsider! I’m your real brother!” ‘An outsider?’ I thought. All these years, June had looked after me and cared for me. When the zombies attacked, she shielded me behind her. Meanwhile, my dear brother was out bathing with his mistress!

He was wearing the same white shirt he wore the day we first met, looking clean as he walked toward me. He didn't dare touch me. He didn't even dare look up. He simply fell to his knees before me, weeping silently. Then came my brothers—Luca, Matteo, Dante. They stood behind him with their heads bowed like children who had realized they were wrong, kneeling in a row. This time, there was no family honor, no Mafia rules, and no goddamn favoritism. They were just four souls drowning in regret. I looked at them and let out a soft sigh.

His lip was split. Blood smeared the corner of his mouth. A fresh bruise was already blooming under his eye. Oh my God… Paulo actually hit him. “Finally!” Paulo barked the second he saw me. “This idiot spilled everything. Now we can talk like adults. Sit down!” I moved on autopilot, legs shaky as I sank onto the edge of the couch. I couldn’t stop staring at Denver. He looked wrecked, physically and otherwise. No question about it: my brother had thrown punches.

The words came out quieter than I'd intended. Neither of us argued. Because for the first time in our lives, the two Blackthorpe brothers weren't competing for an empire. We were trying to find a way to keep our souls.

Aaron gritted his teeth. Liam and Aaron move toward each other and kick each other with their legs to their stomachs. The fight begins with the brothers. To Be Continued

I eased it open. Inside lay a small envelope, edges worn. I pulled out its contents: a photograph. My breath caught. It was us—Dare and me, years ago, laughing in the Blackthorne gardens under string lights. My head on his shoulder, his arm around me protectively. On the back, in faded ink: “She’s the one. Don’t let them take this. – D”

he said without looking up. I flipped him off on my way to the fridge. “Don’t start.” He smirked into his coffee. We spent the morning at the beach because that’s what you do when you illegally squat in paradise. Volleyball turned into tackle football turned into someone (Jax) getting buried up to his neck in sand while the rest of us took turns pouring beer into his mouth like a human keg. I laughed until my stomach hurt. For a few hours, everything felt easy. Normal. Like we were just a group of friends on vacation, not a bunch of twenty-somethings committing light felony.

As I walked past her, I heard a sharp, mocking snort escape her nose. After we brushed shoulders, her giggles and joyful chatter with my brothers rang out behind me. She deliberately raised her voice and flaunted, saying, "I'm going to wear these diamond earrings for the rest of my life. Bruno, you're the best!" She went on to lament about her poor, miserable childhood. My brothers instantly promised to compensate her double for every unfortunate thing she had suffered in life. They had once promised me the same. They had sworn that they would love and protect me as if I were their real famiglia to make up for the famiglia I had lost.