Prologue
Thiago
Chapter One
Thiago
I’m still reeling from the feel of Zayden’s lips on mine. My fingertip grazes my bottom lip, still tender… reminding me of what just occurred, and a smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it.Yeah. I’m royally fucked.
My heart lurches inside my chest. There’s no stopping the waves of emotions crashing into me… just like I can’t stop the snow from falling. How can I stop the corruption that swallows everything I love?
Love… is that what I feel?
I open my palm, gathering the tiny particles that dance in the night air, my gaze lingering on the soft fluff as it lands gently against my skin. It doesn’t take long for it to melt away. Breathing through my nose, I fill my lungs with the crisp night air. The feeling of dread tangles around my spine, unease still crawling down my flesh and taking over my soul.
Looking over my shoulder, my gaze focuses on the light that spills onto the balcony. Tracking the movements of each shadow as they dance and clap. A bunch of clowns appreciating thecircus that’s happening inside. Despite the celebration, it’s really a tragedy, a reminder of the truth. A moment that seals the fate of those I love and call my brothers.
A heavy weight settles deep in my chest. Regret quickly smothers any flicker of life inside me. There’s no use in hoping… or wanting. My life was paved out for me the moment my father spilled his seed into my mother’s womb. It’s just a matter of time until I have to live up to their expectations—my father, Velarium, and the team. I’m a man stuck in the crossfire. There’s a clear path ahead of me, yet there’s one that just bloomed in the field. I close my hand into a fist, clenching tightly, watching small webs of veins surface on my skin. I tip my head back and look at the snow that continues to fall. The cold bites at my skin, and I can’t feel the end of my nose or feel the warmth in my fingertips. Still, I remain rooted in place, unable to bear witness to the farce happening inside. Even worse, I couldn't bear the accusatory look on their faces. The one that screams, “You knew and didn’t say shit.”Even though I have no choice, my silence is how I continue to stay on the board when I’m just a disposable pawn. You can’t win if they don’t let you play, and I’ve gotten great at doing that—playing both sides—even though, one day, I’ll have to choose, but it sure as fuck won’t be the choice they hope for. Bringing my hands towards the railing, I wrap them around the cold metal that instantly sticks to my flesh. The sting is a welcome relief. Pulling myself towards it, I wonder just how easy it would be to end it all.
The pain.
The mask.
The back and forth—I’ve grown sick of.
But even death would grant me no relief, and with my luck, I’d probably fall and break a couple of bones and still be expected to serve. The ocean waves drown out the sound of my heart and self-loathing. My breath comes out in a small cloud as myfather’s words ring inside my thick skull. The memory of earlier tonight pulls me under even though I try to resist it—it holds me captive, just like my family legacy.
“Filho.” He coughs out a thick cloud of smoke. Sergio Safra sits at the head of the table. Beside him, Mr. Roberts and Mr. J., while Mr. Morelli sits at the other end of the table chatting away, talking about numbers and policy I have no real interest in learning about. My father looks over to the rest of the donors in the room. None of them is important enough to remember. And yet, everyone is dressed to impress, wearing proud and smug smiles as we celebrate Ezra’s Christmas gift—a promotion. One that comes with a heavy burden and even greater sins.
“You should take notes from him.” Father pats E on the back, who coughs into his hand, looking like he’s about to choke, but he masks it well, his face contorting to match all those who surround us. If doubt ever existed within him, that’s long gone. In its place, nothing but hollowness. One that’s become too frequent. Ezra’s hand trails over a Petal's legs, his mind long gone from his body and his soul locked deep inside where she can’t touch it. A place even I can’t reach.
I shrug at my father’s words.
There’s not really a reason for me to be here; I care very little about tonight’s plan—going from a senior handler to a full-blown mini donor. The proper term is ‘Donor-in-Training.’ They treat this god damn place like a job, but I guess it sort of is. When you’re running a black market for sex trafficking and money laundering. But still not what I want for myself, or for E. This place is draining; it’s practically a hell where you sell yourself and your future children. The corruption runs deeper than what meets the eye; it’s not just Velarium. It’s companies, sports teams, and big corporations that are all overseen by the chairman and the national council. There are so many tinybranches that I have yet to touch the tip of it. So many players we have never met, only hear about the more you run in the circles.
Like Ezra’s father, mine is an Elder Patron—the highest chain in the donor totem—which has been the same position for generations of the patriarchs in our family. It’s like the generational curse that keeps on giving, bleeding into the firstborn son as it would bleed into mine.
“Thiago, we talked about many things over the holidays. Not only did we decide to make Johnson a Chapter Chair, but we decided to move you to Ezra’s position.” My stomach turns. Teeth smashing together, grinding, trying to grasp the cord that pulls tighter around my throat as I smile.
“Tonight, after the important announcement, we will celebrate our future legacy,” my father adds. My gaze falls on Peter and the smug look on his face as he takes in the scene beside his father. He shouldn’t be here, and yet, there he was. My eyes roam over everyone in the room. They all look so happy, in a sinister kind of way. It’s like I missed something important. A cold dread grips around my heart, realizing that I was left out of the loop. While I thought we were here to fake it for the University families and faculty—all in the name of Christmas spirit— with a ball that helps raise money for children, there was something far more sinister behind it all. How naive of me.
Mr. J speaks proudly, watching carefully for my reaction as he saunters over to Peter and takes his hand. A familiar scene, two people sealing a fucking deal, and my nerves go taut, small prickles of electricity littering my skin. Their hands firmly clasp around each other, each sporting a bright dentist Ad smile. “Peter here is going to be marrying my daughter, once she’s graduated, of course.”
The sound of crunching snow pulls me out of my deep thoughts, as much as I want it to be Zayden, I know it’s not. The footsteps are too gentle—not demanding, just careful and deliberate. Nothing like his. I open my eyes just in time to watch Peter light up a cigar in the cold, his brown hair perfectly combed back, glasses framing his face. It’s hard to believe he’s the older brother of one of the sweetest souls I've had the pleasure of knowing.June. They look alike, share the same DNA, and yet he’s rotten to the core.
“You,” I mutter, focusing my attention on the man before me, the man in line to become the very thing you aim for when you are part of our world. There’s no amusement or happiness in his face for someone who just announced his engagement to Shiloh. I huff out another cloud of smoke as he inhales his.
“To what do I owe the honor, Morelli?” I open my hand, raising a brow, watching him exhale the smoke. “I’d rather be brooding in peace.”
He chuckles, patting my shoulder as if we are friends in need of catching up. “That’s why I like you, Safra, never afraid to speak your mind. All those jokes to mask your truth.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. My brows pull together. Now I’m really fucking confused. I turn around to fully face him, leaning into the railing and crossing my arms across my chest as he smokes his celebratory cigar. He wastes no time getting straight to the point.
“I’ve got a deal for you.”
I cock a brow. “A deal?”
Peter dips his chin slowly, bringing the cigar back to his lips, and shifts his gaze to the dark skies. “Help me take down the donors, and I’ll give you the freedom you crave.”