Page 1 of When Sinners Fall
CHAPTER ONE
DRAGON
Buried a brother this morning. Closed that lid on Elias Cortez and watched the ground swallow him up. Now we’re all here and I’m trying to navigate endless assholes and their show of sympathy. They can suck dick for all I care. I’m barely holding myself together and they’re in my face giving me reasons to watch flesh burn.
A hand comes onto my shoulder, Abel pulling me away from what might happen if he doesn’t. “Calm down, Dante. This isn’t the time.” I scour the room, looking for something, anything to cool my mood. There isn’t anything else but his low, curt words trying to keep me in check.
Knox walks into the room with Shaw. They look at us and nod, and Knox eventually makes his way over. He reels off some crap about his search results and Jackson fucking Reed, which makes Abel close his mouth down, too. Seems like none of us are allowed to focus on the real problem at hand. That being we got screwed in London. And yeah, Elias got his neck snapped in two.
“We do this first,” Abel murmurs at all of us. “Respect.”
Screw respect. I’m trying not to give a damn about a dead body in the ground. That’s done. What I care about is killing the piece of shit that made it happen. Reed asked us for that deal. He nodded and said he could handle it. And then, by the looks of it, he found some fucking conscience and decided our kinda breed wasn’t for him. I tried killing him for that when he left us for dead and started hauling the bags of money out. Would've done, too, if something hadn’t knocked me out.
I snarl at the thought and glare at everyone in here. No one decides they want out once they're in. And they sure as hell don't kill one of us to make that happen. He did, though. I'm going to gut him for that when I find him. I'm gonna string him up, pull his insides out, and then light him the fuck up so he burns and screams for mercy. That’s the way I get my feelings out. It’s the only way I get vengeance, too. Respect and mourning for Elias will come after that.
A solemn air hangs heavy in the room, as if the guests are maudlin over his death beneath these crystal chandeliers. It’s not real care but for us and Mother. All these people here couldn’t give a damn about Elias being dead. They probably wanted it. One less Cortez on the streets makes us weaker than we were, and that gives them all room to breathe.
“It’s time to toast him, Abel,” Mother says somewhere behind me.
I turn and sneer, both at the thought of a goddamned toast and her. She’s not going up in my estimation levels anytime soon, and I’m about done with the hordes of guests pretending they care.
Downing my shot anyway, I pick up a glass of passing champagne and watch the girls handing out trays of booze around the room. It’s all a fucking joke. A hundred-odd guests. A neoclassical mansion up here in Terrell Hills pretending we’re not what we are - thatshe’snot what she is - and a wake to celebrate the life of someone none of these people really knew.
Still, I’m pissed.
And I’m getting angrier with each passing day.
Mariana glides over to us, her grace a world away from what we all are underneath these suits and finery. We’re animals. Well, me and Abel are. Knox, not so much until he finally loses it. Shaw, barely ever unless he's pushed. And then there's Mariana. She likes to play the blushing princess, but she’s as much of a bitch as our mother is.
“You’re turning red, Dante,” Knox says. “Go cool down.”
“Shut the hell up."
Abel gets in the middle of the room and starts doing what he does. Everyone turns to look at him while he speaks. Not surprising, given his time inside. Even I back down when he comes at me, mostly. I listen to some of it, then slide out of the room to do something more useful than pretending because I don’t pretend a damn thing. I achieve whatever needs achieving, and I’m starting to go stir fucking crazy with all this biding our time he’s aiming for.
Mother walks out onto the wraparound ten minutes later with a new, young guy on her arm. He snarls at her about something, presumably trying to get his hands on her money and our reputation. “Melena, you know you need-" She turns and slaps him out of whatever shit he was trying for. It’s vicious enough that he reels back a few steps.
“Dante. Chad needs to leave.” She doesn’t look at me, just expects. Given the day I’m having, I’m ready enough to oblige her authority for once.
I drop the smoke I was enjoying and walk straight at him, unbuttoning this damn suit and slinging the jacket. He starts moving instantly, almost running his pansy ass back inside to the thick of the crowd. I couldn’t care less who sees me, as proved by me grabbing hold of his hair and dragging him through the room.
He bitches and moans in my grip, starts shouting about his father and the law coming for me if I even dare. The mood I’m in, he’s lucky I try to keep killing people off these premises like I was told to. The law? We don’t live under that threat. Don’t care what they’re doing, either, unless it’s what we told them to do.
His head rebounds off the showy walls and doors as we keep moving, then hits hard against the old, metal, French clock Mother cherishes so much. I grab it after the event, accidentally dropping the fuck-ugly thing on his head a few more times to make sure he gets the point.
I’m about ready to forget her rules about this place by the time we get out the main door, so I throw him to the ground and watch him roll over. “Get the hell out before I lose my shit.”
He starts backing up, hands splayed out in front of him, then turns and staggers for the boys dealing with the mass of cars on the drive. Hope he fucking crashes his. Into a big goddamn tree.
I keep scowling until I see him and his piece-of-shit Ferrari swerving out the drive, still trying to contain my mood.
“Well done,” Mariana muses, coming to my side and passing me my jacket. She reaches into my pants pocket, gets out my smokes and lights one for me. “Age suits you, Dante. That was far less Dragon-like.”
“We’re here,” I reply, taking my smoke from her. "No choice."
“Maybe, but I think it’s more likely Abel’s influence. He’s taming you.”
I side-eye her antagonism, still ready to blow. “Be careful, Sister. I’m no tool for your gaming. Go piss around with Shaw instead.” She follows me as I walk through the crowds again, handing me a bottle of whisky from a tray. I take it, grabbing two glasses from the side table. They’re both filled, and I half smile as she starts giggling beside me about something. Pretty sound, that.
