Prologue

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"Listen to me, Zane. Okay honey. I love you. No matter what happens here you have to believe me and do as I say understand?" My small hands trembled as they clasped in front of me. I stiffly nodded and gazed up, meeting my mother's smoldering gray eyes. "You are to be as quiet as a church mouse. Not a sound. One sound and they will find you." Mother grabbed me gently and carried me to the closet in her room. She placed me on the carpeted floor as she opened the closet and pushed the clothes aside. Her voice muffled as she reached back into the wall and popped a piece of wood from the wall. "Now listen. No noise. Don't move. And don't come out no matter what you hear. Promise me Zane that you won't cry, or run and anything. You will stay in this closet until I can get you."

"Yes mommy." My voice shook as her hands gently took my face in their grasp. I could see the tears and terror lingering inside her smoky irises. Her long brown hair hung loose around her shoulders in a frazzled mess as she shoved me through a hole barely able to conceal my young body.

"Try not to listen, Zane. Mommy loves you." There was a pause as I heard a sound from downstairs. Mother slammed the wood back in front of me and locked the closet before I could say anything.

I wanted to scream or cry out for her as I heard her thin heels click down the stairs on the wood. Soon my father's voice reached my ears.

"He's hidden right? They won't find him?"

"If he is quiet he is safe." The glass crashed from the windows downstairs. The loud pop of gunfire shook my brain and terrified me. A soft whimper escaped my lips as the door crashed to the floor. Yelling, arguing, cursing, all leaked through the floorboards.

"How long did you think you could hide from us?" I didn't recognize the voice. "Living in our territory, how dare you!"

"Fucking bunch of cunts! The whole fucking lot of you!" My father never cursed. I wanted to cry out to them to try to calm him like I always could. "Leave my house before I end you!"

Laughter... then BANG. It was a sound I couldn't forget, even though it only happened seconds ago. The thud that ominously followed. The squeal of my mother. The silence that lingered after the dreaded sound. Chills raced down my spine. My small hands covered my mouth as footsteps thundered against the stairs. Ragged gasps slipped through my fingers as the bedroom door slammed open. Whimpers died in my throat.

"Let go of me! What else do you want?!" My mother growled. Her voice had never sounded so dark or menacing. "You killed the only member left so get out!"

"Oh you think I'm stupid now don't you? He has a son. An heir of sorts. Whether that boy is yours or not you'll know where he is. Spill your guts woman. Tell me where the kid is and you live," a man spoke too calmly. I wanted to make a noise to dispute, to hint mom at his bluff if she hadn't already picked up on it.

"There is no kid. We never had one." I could feel the coldness in her voice from feet away; it made me wonder how he could be so close to her and be uneffected.

"Well if that's the case then you don't need this house anymore do you? Boys, burn this place down."

"You bastard!" I heard a brief scuffle and another BANG. Silence. Absolute silence as my breath almost wheezed from my lips. Flick. Flick. Then crackling began.

"Let's wait for this to take off nicely. Make sure no one gets out. If you see anyone, kill them." The man's voice boomed above the growing roaring of the heat and what I assumed to be flames crackling.

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"Zane, do you accept our offer?" I didn't look up from my kneeling position. Overwhelmed with the memories, but not wanting to show weakness I rolled my shoulders back to be square and raised my chin. A deep breath shook my chest as my eyes met his, bright, excited and powerful. He had been waiting for this day for years now.

"I accept the offer to join The Spades as your Ace, Harold."

The smirk on his lips said it all, he was ready for me to be part of his suit. His hand closed around the branding iron that had been heating as we said our formalities. The Golden hue that flared out from the iron showed just how hot it was. The iron was the shape of a Spade, but there was a design within the spade, one that seemed to be intricate but too light to see with the current color. My shirt slid off easily as if a weight was being pushed off my shoulders as he came closer. The heat poured from the iron as it came closer to my chest, relentless, unforgiving, but also comforting. My breath shook for a brief second before it rushed back out of my lungs. The searing pain wrenched a cry from my lips even while attempting to hold it back. Not quite a scream but not a whimper either; the sound filled the room along with the smell of burning flesh. When the iron was removed I looked down over my heart. A spade with delicate filigree laid black and red against my pale skin. I had never felt so free while being owned at the same time. 

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Months passed as I lived with Harold. A few others roughly my age joined us this time. Diego, who was about nineteen, joined because his brother joined the clubs. His hair was the color of charcoal and his skin close to caramel. Harold claims he will be rearranging the suit soon so there was room for more. Marshall was the another that joined. He was a blonde with a reckless personality that made him dangerous. His looks were angelic but he was demonic. He joined to watch the diamonds die and take every girl he could in the meantime. Originally he wanted to be the Ace but Harold refused repeatedly.Sarah was a younger girl around seventeen with dirt brown hair and light green eyes. She was quiet and annoyingly squeamish. Caleb was the last to join his dark blonde hair was longer than most here. His deep blue eyes were always lingering but his personality was as abrasive as Marshall's. I hoped they would make to the branding but I wasn't holding my breath. I was surprised by how much Harold held his word to me, but then again he had already put me through hell to become what I am now.

This hell was ten hours of training everyday for three months. Physically I had never been healthier, rigorous but not quite overwhelming work outs do that to a person. From fist fighting, pistol handling, rifle handling, pure stealth, silence, and the art of lying was what I was trained in. I had become the most deadly member of the Spades since Harold himself was an Ace. Members had begun to fear me, but still had enough respect to speak to me without flinching. Each day I woke up and prepared for the day with a new light leading me now that Harold had given me a purpose. Though I fear this will all shatter sooner or later with the growing amount of Diamond action in our territory. 

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