Bound by Honour

11

We arrived in Spain just as the first light of dawn kissed the horizon. The sky was a gentle blend of pink and orange, a calm before the storm of what awaited us. I stepped off the plane, stretching out the stiffness from the long flight, and took in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air. It was refreshing, almost cleansing, but it did little to ease the fear simmering beneath my skin.

I had explained my roles in helping the Greek Mob and now understood that my father likely had their loyalty somehow. The Greeks weren't as influential in New York as the Italians, but they had their connections.

Cameron was already on his phone, barking orders to someone on the other end, his voice low and authoritative. Sebastian stood nearby, his eyes scanning the surroundings with that familiar, calculated intensity. Chance and Milo followed close behind, each of them alert, their postures rigid with anticipation.

I clutched the strap of my duffel bag tighter, the weight of everything that had happened still pressing heavily on my shoulders. Spain was supposed to be a new beginning, a chance to prove myself, but all I could feel was the unease gnawing at my insides.

"Ready?" Cameron's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. He had finished his call, his eyes now focused solely on me, searching for any sign of hesitation.

I nodded, trying to muster a smile. "Yeah, of course."

He gave me a curt nod, his expression unreadable. "Good. Let's get this over with."

We moved as a unit, a silent force as we made our way through the private terminal. Despite the early hour, the place was buzzing with quiet activity—security personnel, chauffeurs, and a handful of other travelers passing through. I kept close to Sebastian, feeling a little safer with him at my side.

Our car was waiting for us just outside, a sleek, black SUV that screamed both luxury and caution. The driver, a tall man with a stern expression, opened the door for me. I slid into the back seat, the cool leather pressing against my skin as I settled in.

As the others piled in, Cameron took the front seat next to the driver, while Sebastian, Chance, and Milo took their places beside me. The atmosphere in the car was thick with unspoken tension, each of us lost in our own thoughts as we drove away from the airport and into the heart of the city.

Spain was beautiful, there was no denying that. The architecture, the landscape, the rich history embedded in every corner—it was all breathtaking. But I couldn't fully appreciate it, not with the weight of what we were here to do looming over me.

The car glided through the winding streets of the Spanish city, the early morning light casting a golden glow over the vibrant, bustling town. Buildings rose up on either side of us, their architecture a blend of old-world charm and modern elegance. I watched as the streets came alive with locals heading to work, tourists snapping photos, and the occasional street performer setting up for the day. The sights and sounds of Spain were everything I'd imagined—alive with energy and steeped in history.

But I refused to let myself enjoy it.

The fact that I'd always wanted to travel to Spain, to walk through its cobblestone streets and explore its rich culture, was something I pushed to the back of my mind. I couldn't afford to let myself be happy about this, not after everything that had happened. This trip wasn't about me. It was about them—Cameron, Chance, Sebastian, Milo.

"We're here," Cameron announced from the front seat, breaking into my thoughts. I looked up as the car turned onto a tree-lined street, the buildings on either side gradually giving way to a towering hotel that loomed ahead of us. It was a luxury hotel, the kind you'd see in travel magazines, with polished marble columns, massive glass doors, and uniformed doormen ready to greet us.