Brutal Savage

Chapter One

Killian

The metallic scent of blood filled the air. I dab the open wound along my knuckles with an already bloodied towel. The man before me sits with his hands and feet bound to the metal chair, his face bloodied and beaten. One eye is already starting to swell, nearly closed. His nose is bent and cuts flayed across the skin at the bridge. 

“I’m not going to ask again, Nick,” I growled, tipping the chair backward. I catch the back of it just before his head smashed against the sink. “Where the fuck is our money?” 

“Y-you’ll get it. I swear,” Nick begs. “I just need one more week.” 

I tsk. “You’ve already had an extra week. Time’s up. And I still don’t see those extra digits in my bank account.” 

“Something came up. My shop was robbed. You have to understand.” I barely hear the words out of his mouth. It’s all just excuses anyway. 

“Really? Because I thought you gave my money to the cartel.” Nick’s only good eye goes wide. “Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” Tossing the rag to one of my men, I turn away in disgust. “Again.” 

I can hear Nick struggling behind me as my soldiers tip his chair back against the sink. Water splashes into the bowl until the struggling gurgles of our victim overpower even that. This is the sixth associate this week who has tried to break their contract. The sixth idiot who thought they could screw us over and get away with it.

The chair legs plunk back to the floor. Nick coughs, hacking water from his lungs as he tries to take a breath. I bide my time, letting him sit for a minute. Not to scare him, but to show him that I don’t give a fuck. 

I hadn’t been born into this life like my brother. For years, I’d been kicked to the side, left on my own, while my father doted on his precious heir. It wasn’t until Sienna and Dante had promoted me to underboss that I’d finally gotten a taste of this world. But, whereas my brother had years to perfect the art of torture, of putting fear into the hearts of those who crossed him, I’d had to get it down in just a single year. Months of tagging along after my brother like a puppy dog just to learn everything from torture to manipulation and all the shit in between. And now, I’m finally on my own. Doing it my way.

Turning back to my latest victim, I smile. “I think we’re done here.” 

“No! Wait.” Nick struggles weakly against the handcuffs. “I can give you information. Please.” 

My smile freezes. “And what information could you give us? You’re just a fucking convenience store owner.” My men chuckle a bit at that. 

“The Russians—” He’s still trying to save his pathetic life. How admirable. “—they’re planning something. Something big and—”

I’m already bored. With a wave of my hand, the towel is shoved back into his mouth, and he’s tipped back under the water. I grab another towel from the stainless steel counters. “Get rid of the body,” I tell the closest soldier. 

Nick’s thrashing mutes the minute the door shuts behind me. As much as I’d wanted to prolong his pain, he isn’t the only business I have to attend to tonight. I make my way through the back of the club, passing the kitchens, the storage rooms, and the offices before finally heading out onto the main floor.

The club pulses with music, vibrating along my bones, darkness clinging to every corner. The bar is crowded, the dance floor even more so tonight. Bodies writhe in the open space, skin flashing beneath the strobes that hung above them. The smell of alcohol, sweat, and sin wraps around me, drawing me in. 

To me, this is home.

Leaning against the rail of the second floor, my eyes scan the crowd below me. Tonight, I’m not here to join in on the fun. I’m here on business, and this is just one of the clubs on my list to check in on. Old Killian would have cracked open a bottle within seconds of arriving. But I’m not the Old Killian, and my responsibilities now mean too much to me to just fuck up. 

Straightening my leather jacket, I turn away. The Arco Brothers lounge across the VIP couches, a glass in one hand and a woman on the other. Cain watches me, studying every tic, every movement with a scrutiny that often makes others feel uncomfortable. But I’ve known the bastard since we were kids. 

Plus, now he works for me. 

“Everything good, boss?” Cain asks, just a hint of sarcasm on the last word. 

“Your DJ could be better,” I smirk, “but otherwise, things look just fine. As long as the books have been fixed, we should be good here.” 

“I told you this club would be a good investment,” Declan mutters into his cup before taking a sip. 

I ignore him. The brothers have been a huge help to us, but sometimes they like to test the limits of their new roles. Pull the leash a bit. Dante and Sienna are too lenient with them sometimes, simply because none of us would currently be here without their aid and information from when we had to deal with the Snake—a man who’d been hell-bent on destroying both the Rosania and Scarano families.

“I’ll go and get the reports,” Archer says, rising from the couch. He hands the woman closest to him his glass before disappearing down the steps. 

After nearly half of our men had betrayed us to join the Snake, Sienna and Dante had to fill in the gaps—this time with more loyal recruits. The Arco brothers were some of the best in the business, never really tied down to any one criminal family. But they had no reason to join us. Not when half of our businesses were failing while they remained untouched. 

Yet, while the Arco brothers were strong, they weren’t as big an organization as we were. In return for their loyalty, we gave them power—more than they’d ever had before. Board members of our shipping company, promotions for Capo, leading their own little regiment, the notoriety of our family name. While the Arco brothers had been well-off before, now they were set for life. 

Cain leans forward, forcing the woman beside him to shift left, causing her to fall to the side. “How are things lately back in headquarters?” Dark eyes study me between the flashes of light. 

I sit in the empty chair beside him, the plush fabric a dark and bloody red. “Things have been quiet.” 

“You sound disappointed.”

Did I? I frown. Peace was what we’d been striving for after the previous chaos. After the Snake had left us weak and defenseless, our family had to rebuild. And quickly. There are still sharks in the water, waiting for a drop of blood or a hint of vulnerability, but so far, we’ve managed just fine. 

But maybe Cain is right. I was a bit bored with the peace and quiet. I’d spent so many years craving to join this life…only to finally be allowed in, right as everything settled down. Really, the past few months have been mostly grunt work. Building our businesses and keeping them in check. Threatening those who refused to get in line, still believing our family to be too weak to do anything about it. 

“It can’t last forever,” Declan reassures me. “In this world, there’s always something right around the corner.” 

“Hopefully, not something we can’t handle,” I reply warily. I might be itching for some action, but that didn’t mean I wanted to lose more members of my family. “Sienna and Dante have enough on their hands with the new baby.”

“How is our little niece?” Cain asks. They aren’t in any way related to us, but they like to think of themselves as Emilia’s uncles. 

“Loud,” I grimace, “she also started crawling and gets into everything now. It took me about twenty minutes to try and figure out how to open the baby-proof gate.” 

Declan laughs, loud and boisterous. The women around him startled, smiling nervously. “Tell our illustrious Dons that we’ll be over soon to see her again.” 

“I’m sure they’re looking forward to it.” 

Unable to sit still, I stand once again. Moving to the railing, I scan the crowd again. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Trouble, maybe? Or nothing. People-watching at clubs isn’t what most come to do, but it’s something I’ve always enjoyed anyway. All different types of guests visit our clubs, from the lowest black market criminals to the richest heirs in the city. But when they mix together like this—they all look the same. 

I guess that’s why I like coming here so often. In places like these, where the alcohol flows continuously, and no one judges you for what you do, there’s nothing fake. Not really. Some would argue this logic, but I found that the clubs are some of the most real places. No hiding. No lying. Just some of life’s simplest pleasures, drinking and dancing. 

Adrenaline pulses through my veins in time with the bass, but I resist the urge to join in. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am today. I’m not about to ruin that hard work for a few hours of fun. Just as I’m about to turn away again, my eyes catch a flash of brilliant red hair. 

I freeze, ice slipping down my spine. I can’t imagine it's her, but I search the crowd anyway, straining to catch any hint of russet in the darkness. My fingers curl around the railing until my knuckles turn white. When my search turns up nothing more, I take a deep breath, pushing aside the anxiety that churns my stomach. It’s been years since I’ve last seen her, yet the memories still haunt me.

“You alright?” Archer stands at the top of the stairs, a manila folder in his hands. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Maybe I have,” I mutter, taking the file from him. I flip through the first few pages, but my mind isn’t computing the numbers inked into the white papers. I snap it closed, tucking it under my arm. “Looks good to me. We’ll double-check and make sure everything is in order.” 

On the outside, this looked like any other club. A great one, but still. After our family was swept into the spotlight thanks to the Snake, we needed a new way to wash the money that came in from our shipments of weapons and drugs. Clubs were the perfect cover. They were chaotic, dealt with lots of cash, and most importantly, less regulated in certain areas. Often, no one notices when large sums go missing. They allow us to take the illegal money and clean it up a bit. 

They were a good front and a good place to escape to when you needed it. A two-in-one type of deal. Which is exactly how I pitched it to my brother and his wife when we were first rebuilding. These clubs are mine. A perfect way to prove myself even more than I already have. 

“Why don’t you stay awhile?” Cain asks, leaning back once more. His arms settle on the back of the couch, the women beside him wasting no time moving in. 

I eye him warily. “No time tonight. I have to get to the others and have the reports for Dante by tomorrow evening.” 

Cain just shrugs. “Suit yourself.” 

“You’ve become boring, Kill,” Declan says. “A real buzz kill, you know that? It’s always work, work, and more work with you, and never let’s get shit-faced and trash the place.” 

“Well, some of us had to grow up at some point,” I reply evenly. 

“Thank God you did it for me then,” Declan shoots back, laughing. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, moving towards the stairs. 

Before I make it even one step, the world explodes. 

The balcony shakes as dust and smoke flood across the dance floor. I grip the railing, steadying myself. The lights cut off, plunging us into darkness when another explosion shakes the building and flames burst through the back doors of the club. Screams replace the music, the trampling of fleeing feet pounding across the floor. Cain and his brothers are on their feet in an instant. Rough hands yank me to my feet before rushing me down the steps. 

My eyes adjust to the darkness. It’s utter chaos. People surge towards the two exits, trampling anyone who gets in their way, while others cower in the corners. My fingers curl around Cain’s shirt, pulling him around to face me. “Get everyone out of here,” I bark, shoving him towards the closest patron. 

Cain nods, motioning for his brothers to do the same. I scan the room, now destroyed. The explosions had come from the back kitchens, where the flames were currently eating away at the walls and ceiling. I don’t know how many people were back there or if they got out in time. Smoke fills the room quickly, choking me as I stumble towards the furthest corner. 

Two women huddle there, clutching each other. Smoke clings to their tear-streaked faces. I grab one, then the other, pushing them towards the exit. Most of our customers are out, taking refuge in the street. I whip around, looking for any others that might have been left behind. 

The ceiling above me groans, creaking under the weight as the flames lick up the walls. Any minute and this entire place will come crashing down. Cain appears in the smoke, looking relieved when he finally spots me. 

“Come on, we have to get out of here,” he growls, pushing me towards the doors. I let him. Coughing, we stumble out of the building. 

Declan and Archer find us quickly, and we stand there, watching as the building collapses. The whole lot I’d worked so hard to build comes crashing down. We can hear the sounds of glass breaking and wooden beams crashing to the ground. Sirens fill the air, still too far off to save whatever is left of the club, reminding me of what will happen next.

I shove the folder into Declan’s hands. “Get that to Sienna and Declan,” I order. Turning to his brothers, I glare. “And you two, find out what the fuck happened tonight. The cops will be here any minute. You get any information you can and reveal nothing.” 

“We know the drill,” Cain snaps. His hands are curled into fists, a deadly look in his eye. 

Looking at the others, I know they’re thinking the same thing I am. This wasn’t an accident. It’s a hit. An attack. Declan takes off, melting into the crowd just as the police and firefighters arrive. I immediately head towards an officer, Archer and Cain at my back. 

“What the hell happened here?” the officer asks, glaring as if this were our fault. The others rush around us, controlling the crowd and giving the firefighters room to work.

I straighten my jacket, eyeing him critically. “That’s what I’m hoping you’ll tell us.”

The officer ignores me and turns to Cain. “You the owner?” 

Cain smirks. “No. He is.” He jerks his head in my direction, crossing his arms. 

I wait for the realization to hit the poor guy. Once he does, red flashes across his cheeks. “I’ll need you three to stay here. We’ll have questions.” 

“I’m sure you will,” I say coldly. “We’ll be here.” 

The officer turns away, barking orders to the others. I stay right where I am, nodding to Cain and Archer to find out what they can. They disappear among the crowd, their eyes and ears open. There’s no doubt in my mind that this had been a staged attack—we just need to figure out who’s behind it. It could be anyone; the Russians, the Irish, the cartels. Even smaller crime families who think they can take the risk and get away with it. 

They’re wrong, however. They attacked my business. Not just my family’s—but mine. And I will not take that lightly. I’ll find whoever’s responsible, and they’ll pay for their mistake. I watch as the flames die down, leaving behind nothing but smoldering ash and broken beams. It takes longer than I would have thought, but then again, we did have a lot of alcohol in there. 

By the time the fire is officially out, it’s nearly four in the morning. Though the crowd still hasn’t dispersed. Cain appears at my shoulder, leaning in close, with Archer just behind him. “They’re saying it was a pipe bomb.” 

“There were two explosions,” I note. 

“Could be a delayed reaction from the first,” Cain suggests. “Either way, we know this wasn’t an accident.”

“Tell that to the insurance companies,” I mutter. That’s going to be a bitch and a half. 

“You,” the officer barks, turning towards me. “Mr…”

I read the name stuck on his vest before I step forward. “Scarano.”

The minute it registers in that tiny brain of his, he pales just a tad. “Mr. Scarano, we have a few questions.” 

“Of course.” I can’t help but feel amused by his reaction. During my father’s time, the Scaranos were feared, but always overshadowed by the Rosanias. Since Dante’s marriage to Sienna, however, our name has become just as notorious. Just as feared. 

Officer Rowlings takes a pad and pen, flipping to a blank page. “At what time did the explosion go off?” 

I glance at Archer, who steps forward. “Around two-thirty.” 

Rowlings jots that down before clearing his throat. “Did you notice anything suspicious before the blast? Anything out of place?” 

Red hair flashes through my mind. “No,” I say a bit impatiently. “It’s a club. Or it was. A bit too busy to notice anything out of the ordinary.” 

Rowlings shoots me a look but doesn’t comment further. “Last question, and then I’ll let you go.” His eyes catch mine, unwavering. “Who might have wanted to destroy your club?” 

“You mean, who might have wanted to attack me?” I correct. I glance behind him, eyes scanning the ruined structure. “Everyone.”