Page 5 of Fractured Vows (Fraser Crime Syndicate 1)

His wife has made some of the darkness in his eyes dim down. Zeke’s not as hard as he was. Some of those sharp edges have been smoothed away. The blackness that shrouds him—shrouds all of us—will never completely go, but he has something to live for now. He has a family to protect.

As well as Bailey, Zeke has two stepdaughters, Kara and Mollie. They’re sweet girls, untouched by the horrors their world is surrounded by. Neither Zeke nor Bailey let the filth of what we do sully them. Bailey grew up in the Untamed Sons, a motorcycle club that we’re now allied with. She knows the shit we do and she knows how bad it can get. She was sold through a trafficking ring by one of our enemies. Luckily Zeke was the one who bought her. Things hadn’t gone exactly to plan. He was supposed to hand her back to the Sons. Instead, my crazy brother took Bailey home with him. It nearly caused a war. It probably would have done if the two of them hadn’t fallen in love. Bailey went through a lot at the hands of her captors. Zeke has done what he can to help her, but those scars will never fully heal. They never do.

So I don’t blame them for keeping those girls in the dark. They’re young, with their lives ahead of them. They have the chance to break free of the chains that bind the rest of us. I wish our mother had done more to protect us growing up. Instead she stood at our father’s side, the queen to his king, pulling strings behind the scenes and making Anthony dance like a fucking marionette. Their actions left us this way.

Broken.

Cold.

Ruthless.

Our parents have a reputation of their own. Anthony Fraser is the man who stole his own brother’s bride and then killed him savagely. He’d committed fratricide to have our mother. He’d thrown the whole family into civil war. From the stories I’ve heard, it was a merciless battle, one that our father won by the skin of his teeth. He and Charlotte were given their throne along with the keys to the kingdom, and they’ve ruled it ever since. My brothers and I are just pawns on their chessboard, moved wherever suits the needs of the family—or the firm, as it’s also known.

I reach for my shirt where it’s hanging on a hook on the wall and shrug into it.

“You’re fucking tapped in the head,” Zeke tells me, leaning against the wall next to the sink. “But they’re all fine. Bailey wants you to come over for dinner when you’re free next.”

That’s not happening. I like my sister-in-law, would lay down my life to protect her and those kids, but playing house is not my thing. “Maybe another time,” I say.

Zeke’s brows draw together. “It’s dinner, not a fucking execution.”

“I’d be willing to go if it was.”

He grabs my bicep, his hold firm but not tight. “Don’t make me disappoint my fucking wife,” he hisses at me.

I finish buttoning my shirt and grab my suit jacket off the same hook. “You know all that domestic shit isn’t my thing.”

“It’s one dinner, Lucas. You’ll fucking survive. Kane and Aurelia will be there.”

That makes me pause. Kane would never agree to this kind of shit. He hates organised fun more than I do. “Kane said yes?”

“I haven’t asked him yet,” he admits.

I huff out a breath as I settle my suit in place. It feels like putting my armour on, a defence against the world.

“If he says yes, I’ll come,” I compromise, knowing Kane will never agree.

Zeke clearly also knows it, because his lips pull into a tight line. “Just come and don’t be a dick.” He turns back to the body and waves a hand in its direction. “You got a clean-up crew for this?”

“I’ll sort one.” I follow Zeke out of the building, leaving our friend hanging like a pig from the hook. As I walk out, I fire a text off to the men who will make this shit disappear as if we were never here. We pay them premium rates to ensure no evidence is left behind—including the body.

Illuminated in the headlights, Ryan Malone, Zeke’s bodyguard, and Nick Winters, my own personal security, are leaning against the Bentley. Zeke’s black Audi is parked behind it. Neither car is conspicuous if the police happened to pass, but the building is off the beaten track. It’s deep within an industrial estate that was abandoned by the businesses during the 2008 global recession. The whole site is empty. Streets filled with warehouses and units without occupants.

An industrial graveyard.

We bought the whole lot a couple of years back. We’ll never sell a single unit. It’s too useful to us for hiding the shittier parts of our empire—like torturing and murdering our enemies.

Ryan’s eyes roam over Zeke, checking to see that he’s whole. When he’s satisfied, he relaxes a little, some of that ramrod tension leaving his spine and shoulders. He’s a big fucking guy, former Special Forces, and has been with Zeke for the past four years now. I like him. He cares about my brother, and that means he’s likely to keep him breathing.

Winters, on the other hand, puts me on fucking edge. He used to be my mother’s guard until my father suspected things were happening between them. I’d like to think my mother wouldn’t cheat on the man who killed to have her, but if it furthered one of her schemes, I doubt there’s a line she wouldn’t cross. I don’t know why my father didn’t kill Winters—he should have—but the whole situation makes me distrust the fucker.

Zeke stops walking. “Come to dinner, Luke. Make my wife happy.”

“I thought that was your job.”

“Lucas.” The warning snaps through his tone. Usually, I’d ignore it, but I’m riding the high from my kill and I want to keep it.

“Fine. I’ll come to fucking dinner.”

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