𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟓

𝐉𝐀𝐗𝐎𝐍
CRIST

Possession and control. They were more than just concepts to us—they were a way of life, a subtle art, a game we'd mastered long ago. My friends and I didn't just take what we wanted; we claimed it, molded it to our desires, until there was nothing left but the mark of our ownership. Every piece of flesh, every shred of power, every soul that crossed our path was fair game. The weak were prey, and the strong—well, the strong were simply challenges waiting to be conquered.

There was beauty in domination, a dark, intoxicating beauty in bending the world to our will, in watching the defiant break under our fingers. It wasn't just about taking—no, it was about making it ours. And once it was ours, nothing could take it from us.

And Liliana Roseline, she'd soon be mine.

I removed the motorcycle helmet from my head, the rush of the ride still humming through my veins. We were racing through the streets, the sounds of engines roaring, and the clock ticking against us. The party had already started, but the others hadn't arrived yet. Damon pulled up next to me, dismounting from his bike with a scowl on his face.

"Fuckers," he muttered, shaking his head. "Alessio and Grayson took a shortcut, but they're not here yet."

I furrowed my brow, glancing around, as the worry gnawed at me. "What if something happened to them?" Sure, I knew they were reckless, reliable in their own insane way, but still—these guys were dangerous with their stunts. They were wildcards, unpredictable. It wouldn't be the first time they'd gotten caught up in some shit, or pulled some ridiculous stunt just for kicks.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, we saw them: two sleek, sporty motorcycles pulling up in the distance. They'd made it—barely.

"The party started ten minutes ago, you assholes." Damon snapped as they rolled to a stop. Grayson kicked the stand down first, yanking off his helmet as he flashed a grin that always made him seem too carefree for someone who lived on the edge like he did. Alessio followed suit, his smirk as sharp as ever.

"Sorry, we took a little longer than expected," Grayson drawled, his voice laced with amusement.

"Where are your sister and her friends?" Alessio asked, not even bothering to look around for them. His eyes were on me, sharp and curious.

I rolled my eyes, shoving Grayson's helmet into his hands. "You're not asking about my sister," I shot back. "You're asking about the girl you're interested in. The one who happens to be my sister's best friend."

Grayson smirked, like he'd won some silent bet. "Yeah, man, we all know you like her," he teased.

"I don't like her," I snapped, clenching my jaw. "And that's not even half as bad. Imagine if Ava found out you've been wishing her step-sister a happy birthday every year, but you forget her own birthday."

Damon chuckled from behind us. "I'm surprised we even remember Ava's name, to be honest. And Alessio doesn't even consider her a girlfriend. He just thinks of her as a fuck buddy."

Alessio grinned, unphased by the jab. "Doesn't make me wrong," he said, his tone playful but with that edge of seriousness that only he could pull off. He was the master of not giving a damn about anyone's opinions—especially when it came to relationships.

Grayson snickered, tossing a glance my way. "You're not as innocent as you think, my friend."

The air was thick with tension, but it was the kind that came with years of shared history, too much teasing, and knowing that no matter how much we pushed each other's buttons, we were always watching each other's backs when shit hit the fan.