TORN BY ECSTASY BY Vail blackRose

chapter 2

Chapter Two: Adrian

I stood over the freshly turned earth, the grave still raw and unsettled. My father, Henry Carter, was now buried beneath my feet. It was a simple grave, marked by nothing more than a stone slab with his name. To my left, two other gravestones weathered by time stood silent—my mother's and my little sister's. They had been in the ground for twenty-one years, killed in a brutal attack by my father's rivals. The same bastards I would one day make pay.

But today wasn't for mourning. I didn't come here to grieve. I came here to accept the inevitable, to assume the role my father had been preparing me for my entire life: head of the Carter empire.

The courtyard around me was vast, with the sprawling mansion in the background, its cold stone walls towering like a fortress. It had never felt like a home. My father had ruled from this house, and now, so would I—but on my own terms. I was not him. I would not live in the shadows, like he had, like his father before him. The Carter name had always been a dark one, whispered about in fear, and while I had no illusions about cleaning it entirely, I had different plans. I would build a future that blended light and dark, one where legitimate business would hide the rot of our black-market dealings.

I turned away from the graves, my boots crunching against the gravel as I walked back towards the house. Two men flanked me, silent as shadows—Marco, my right hand, and Lorenzo, my chief of security. They had served my father, and now they would serve me.

Entering the house was like stepping back into a cage. The cold, polished floors and towering walls echoed with memories I would rather forget. My father's study was particularly suffocating, a room I had always avoided, filled with the weight of his presence. I never liked it here. This house held nothing but ghosts, haunted by the absence of love, warmth, and anything remotely human.

I sank into the leather chair behind the massive oak desk, my father's old throne. The air still smelled faintly of cigars and whiskey—the scent of a man who had never shown me an ounce of affection. Not a single memory of tenderness. But I had loved my mother, once. I remembered her soft voice, her gentle touch. She had been the light in the darkness until that light was snuffed out.

Killed. By Enzo Salvatore.

My jaw clenched, the familiar rage stirring within me like a coiled snake. Enzo had been the one behind the attack that took my mother and sister. He had sent the killers, and for years, I'd been hunting him, waiting for the moment I could exact my revenge. My father had been too cautious, too content with keeping the peace. He let Enzo slip away. But now that my father was gone, nothing held me back.

I leaned back in the chair, the leather creaking under my weight, as Marco and Lorenzo stood before me. Marco, tall and solid, had been my father's most trusted enforcer. He knew every corner of our empire and was loyal to me without question. Lorenzo, with his calculating eyes, was a former military man and the best damn strategist I knew. Both were waiting for my command.

"Tell me," I said, my voice low.

Marco stepped forward first. "We've tracked Salvatore to his estate in Italy. He's heavily guarded, but we've got eyes on him. His movements are being monitored around the clock."

Lorenzo unfolded a map on the desk, showing the layout of Salvatore's estate. "We can plan an extraction within the week, but security is tight. He rarely leaves the compound, and when he does, it's with a convoy. If we hit him there, it'll be a bloody mess."

I listened, but my mind was already racing ahead, imagining the moment I'd finally stand face-to-face with the man who had torn my world apart. The man I would destroy with my own hands.

Marco continued, detailing possible infiltration points and weaknesses in Enzo's security. I nodded absently, my fingers tapping against the surface of the desk. I didn't care about the intricacies of their plan. I wasn't here to negotiate tactics. When the time came, I would walk into that house, find Enzo, and put a bullet in his heart—or rip it out with my bare hands. Both options were equally appealing.

The two men finished their briefing, and with a curt nod, they left the room, leaving me alone with the quiet hum of my thoughts.

I stood up, walking over to the map they had left behind. My fingers traced the lines of Salvatore's estate, the corridors and exits, the walls that had kept him safe all these years. Not for much longer.

"Soon," I whispered to myself, the word carrying a dark promise. I inhaled deeply, letting the familiar burn of the cigarette I lit fill my lungs, the smoke curling lazily in the air. "Soon."

I closed my eyes and let the darkness inside me take root. It had been festering for years, growing like a twisted vine, feeding off my rage and my thirst for vengeance. My father had never acted on it, but I would. The day of reckoning was coming for Enzo Salvatore, and when it did, I would savor every second of it.

But there was still work to do. I couldn't lose myself entirely to the violence—not yet. I needed to keep building the legitimate empire I had started back in Seattle, where I had studied at Vanguard University, a place where I had honed my mind and built businesses that would serve as the clean front for the Carter fortune. I wouldn't live in the shadows, running nothing but black money and dirty deals. I had built something real, something powerful—and I wasn't about to let it slip away because of a family legacy I had never wanted.

But first, Enzo. First, blood.

I crushed the cigarette under my boot and exhaled the last of the smoke. I had waited years for this. The clock was ticking.

"Soon," I whispered again, my voice swallowed by the empty room.