Liam Bradford walked down the dimly lit alley, his leather jacket shielding him from the cold night air. At just twenty-one years old, he was already a force to be reckoned with in the underworld. His piercing blue eyes and strong jawline made him intimidating, but there was a vulnerability hidden behind his tough exterior. Liam was the son of Vincent "The Viper" Bradford, the notorious mafia boss. Despite growing up surrounded by crime, Liam dreamt of a different life - a life free from the shackles of his dangerous destiny.
That night, as he approached the rundown warehouse that served as his father's headquarters, Liam couldn't shake the feeling that his life was about to take a dramatic turn. He stepped inside to find his father, a hulking figure with a salt-and-pepper beard and a piercing gaze that could make even the bravest men quiver. Vincent was seated behind his oak desk, surrounded by his loyal henchmen.
"Ah, Liam, I've been expecting you," Vincent said, his gravelly voice cutting through the silence. "Take a seat."
Liam nodded, taking a seat across from his father. The room was thick with tension, and Liam couldn't help but wonder why his father had called him here so urgently. Vincent leaned forward, his eyes locked onto Liam's.
"There have been whispers in our circle, Liam," Vincent said, his voice dripping with authority. "Whispers of a rival gang expanding their territory into ours. I need you to investigate this matter discreetly."
Liam's heart raced; this was not the future he had envisioned for himself. He knew that diving deeper into the world of crime would only endanger the few things he held dear. "Father, I don't want this life for myself. I want to pursue something different, something better," Liam said, his voice filled with determination. "Son, our family has been entwined with this life for generations. It's our legacy, our destiny. You can't just walk away from that."
"But, Father..."
To be continued...
BOOK THREE OF THE BLACK SERIES
*this book CANNOT be read as a stand-alone*
--
"Get the hell off of me, Lucian," I snapped angrily, smacking the palm of my hands on his muscular back as he carried me out of the club. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
It wasn't until he carried me upstairs and into a VIP room that he set me on my feet. I wobbled from the combination of my heels and the alcohol finally reaching my brain. It didn't stop me from glaring at him, but he just stared back, his eyes blank.
As always. He's never been a talker, unlike me. What the hell was he even doing here?
"You can't just walk on the dance floor and throw me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes," I snapped, trying to get passed him. "I'm not a kid anymore, Lucian, okay? I'm not yours to protect - I never have been!"
Hearing those words must have triggered him because he snapped.
Lucian roughly grabbed me by the waist and pushed me against the cold wall, his body pressed right against mine. My eyes widened in shock and I met his blazing glare, feeling his hand creep up to my hair and twist it in his knuckles. I tried to force the lump down my throat but felt the confidence leave my body.
"I can do damn well as I please when I see my woman dancing with a man who would want nothing more than to take her back to his place," he growled out, tilting my head up by my hair.
Our lips were almost touching.
I suddenly can't breathe.
"You're mine, Mia," he spoke, this time his words low and raspy. "You always have been - never fucking forget that."