Chapter One
Damian Denton stared down at his drink of whiskey, and wondered if he should order another one or the damn bottle. He was getting tired of waiting, and all he wanted to do was fucking drink. Staring at his empty glass, he slammed his hand on the table.
“Fill me up, asshole,” Damian said.
“He’s cut off.”
He groaned as his oldest brother stood beside him. Jacob Denton was a force to be reckoned with, but yet they were all forces to be reckoned with. They were the Denton family, the coldest, hardest crime family in the world.
“What the fuck are you doing here, brother? Don’t you have a place to fight for?” Damian smirked at his own joke. Six months ago the entire Denton clan had been handed something fucking hilarious. Not only was Jacob Denton not the firstborn, but they all had a half-brother, Gabriel Colton, who was in fact a Denton. Long story short, their dad had slept with Gabriel’s mom, who was married to a Colton at the time. All this time their father’s kid had been growing up under his enemy’s care. Of course, Gideon had been the one to bring the truth to light. Since then, everything had gone to shit, but as far as Damian was concerned, he didn’t care.
His life was at the bottom of the bottle, and that was exactly where he intended to stay. He liked it here.
“Don’t start, Damian,” Jacob said, taking a seat. “Why are you here again?”
“I’m sitting at a bar. I’d say it’s pretty much self-explanatory.”
“Why are you here, again?”
“Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife and kids? She’s got another bun in the oven.”
“Shouldn’t you?” Jacob asked. “What about Martha? Who is looking after her?”
“Our mother, and she’s more than happy to do it.”
“So that’s what you’re going to do with your kid? Pass her onto her grandmother?”
“All things considered, I don’t think we turned out too bad. Why aren’t you fighting for your place?” Damian asked, getting angrier by the second. “Why are you even here?”
“You should be at home caring for that little girl, Damian.” Jacob slammed his hand on the counter and glared at him.
His big brother didn’t care about who stared at them, and Damian simply rolled his eyes. “Last time I checked, I’m old enough to do whatever the hell I want, and you know what? I’m going to.” He was nearly twenty-six years old now, not a child. Fuck, he’d fathered a child, and the mother had killed herself.
“You owe it to Martha to be the best dad in the world. Betty would have wanted that.”
The moment Betty’s name was mentioned, Damian stood, slapping down his bill, and leaving without a word. He didn’t come to a bar to be reminded of her, to be told about her. He was fucking through with this bullshit.
“Damian.”
“Fuck off, Jacob. Go and win some brownie points with Dad. You know it doesn’t mean you get to be kind anymore once he pops it, and to be honest, I hope it’s fucking soon.” Ever since his little tryst had come out in the open, everything had gone to shit. It happened before he met their mother, but still, it was a matter of days before he met her. Damian was done with the family. Denton ran in his blood, and so far it had only caused misery and pain. He was completely done with it, tired.
He left the main doors and walked down the street. He should have known that Jacob wouldn’t leave him alone.
“No amount of drinking or fighting is going to bring her back,” Jacob said, shoving him against the wall. “We don’t need this from you right now. Do you understand that?”
“Why don’t you fuck off? I’m not important to the family, and you can get your own shit done without me.” He went to shove him off, but Jacob placed his arm against his neck.
“She’s gone, asshole. Betty is dead, and no matter what she’s not coming back.”
It was hurting. The pain never left, but with the alcohol he could numb the pain, the guilt of knowing that he failed her.
Over and over Jacob kept repeating the same words, and finally Damian snapped. “You think I don’t know that!” He shoved Jacob away finally getting the upper hand as his rage turned into strength. He shoved Jacob against the opposite wall, wrapping his fingers around his neck and squeezing. “I found her, Jacob. Our daughter was alone, and Betty had taken her life because of me.”
“It’s not your fault.” Jacob struggled to speak, but Damian didn’t care. He was tired of people trying to tell him to face the facts when he already knew them.
“No? You heard of that pesky little curse we have? The moment we know our woman is ours and all that shit. You should. You’ve already gone through it with Lou, and so have two of my brothers.”
“You will find your woman, Damian.”
“I don’t want to fucking find her because it should have been Betty. She was the mother of my kid and because I didn’t feel anything for her, she is fucking dead, so don’t you dare tell me it wasn’t my fault. I made her part of my life, part of my world. She saw you, Abel, and even fucking Oliver with your women, and she couldn’t handle that one day I may be like that. Don’t ever try to tell me that this isn’t my fault. This is my fault. This is my blood’s fault.” Damian released his brother, and Jacob gasped, taking in air.
“Damian, get in the fucking car!” Maddox Denton, his father, said, from the limo parked right near where he and Jacob had been fighting.
All of his life he had done as he was told. He’d followed orders without a fight. Everything he had done, he’d done it knowing he was a Denton. The moment Betty took her life, he’d been ashamed. What none of his family knew was that he couldn’t take care of Martha. He couldn’t look at his daughter without being swamped with guilt. The pain was more than he could describe, and he’d rather be drowning in the bottom of a bottle than allowing himself to keep on living.
He stared at his father. For once he no longer saw a force to be reckoned with, someone to respect. He saw nobody.
“Fuck you.” With that, he moved away, leaving his father and his brother behind.
“Damian, we miss her, too,” Maddox said, making him pause and turn to face him. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, son. It’s not good for you or for the Denton name.”
“The Denton name can go rot in hell, and get fucked in the ass for all I care, Maddox. I’m done, and that’s fucking final.” Turning his back on his family, which was something a Denton had never done, he kept on walking. He didn’t stop, and even as he felt the limo following him, he ignored it.
It wasn’t long before he cut off across a neighborhood and finally lost his family behind.
His cell phone started buzzing, and if it had been anyone else but Charlotte, his mother, he would have ignored it, thrown the cell phone away. He couldn’t do that to his mother.
He pressed answer and placed the cell phone beside his ear. “Hey, Mom,” he said.
“What’s going on, Damian?” she asked, worry evident in her voice.
“I’m done. I can’t do this anymore with him, with the family.” He had somehow brought himself to a park, and he sat down on one of the swings, and stared across the street but didn’t see anything at all. There was nothing to be seen. “I killed her, Mom.”
“No, honey, you didn’t. You had nothing to do with Betty’s death. We had been to the doctor, and she was struggling.”
“I should have been there. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m done.”
“What about Martha, Damian?”
“Will you take care of her for me? I need to get my shit together, and then I’ll be back for her.”
“You promise?”
“Yes. I promise.”
Silence was on the line, and he knew his mother wanted to argue but she’d cave. She always did. “I’ll take care of her, but you’ve got to keep in touch with me. I know you don’t want to speak to your father, and that’s fine. Do not keep me in the dark.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mom. I love you.”
“He does love you, you know? He’s worried.”
“I don’t care. I’m done taking orders from him, of being this guy.” He had no intention of going to take Martha back, nor of getting his shit together. Damian was going to wait for death because he was going to be one last Denton that didn’t poison women, that didn’t lead them to their grave.
****
Mia Banks stared at the monster who was her baby’s father. She wanted to hurt him, to make him pay for everything she had gone through, but she would be dead if she even touched him.
“What do I owe the pleasure this time, Mia?” Ivan Smith asked.
She felt sick to her stomach. She stood in a strip bar, watching as women walked around wearing nothing. She knew without a doubt that some of those women were already fucking clients.
Ivan was a big man in these parts. A crime boss. She just saw him as the asshole that had ruined her life. However, it wasn’t that ruined. She had Reese out of it.
“You’ve stopped everyone from hiring me. Why?”
“The mother of my child doesn’t get to work. I’ve told you that.”
She clenched her hands into fists wanting nothing more than to hurt him. Ivan seemed to be under the illusion that she wanted him, that because he was who he was, she would be so happy to have him want her. She didn’t. If she was honest with herself, she had hoped her weight would completely put him off. Being a size twenty didn’t exactly appeal to most guys, right? With Ivan, it didn’t seem to deter him.
From the moment they had met, she had been telling him no—even during what happened, and she wouldn’t think of it. She had screamed for him to stop, that he was hurting her. There had been many nights she lain awake remembering him on top of her, inside her, knowing that she couldn’t tell anyone. So instead, she made herself believe that everything was fine.
Then of course it hadn’t been. She’d had his kid, and she loved Reese more than anything else in the world.
“I can’t afford to live on nothing, Ivan. I need you to back off so I can live my life.”
“Leave us,” Ivan said.
“Sir?”
“I said leave us.”
His goons left the room, and it made her even more scared. Her heart was racing, and she was staring at the man who featured in all of her nightmares.
“You know, you’re a really beautiful woman,” Ivan said, stepping away from his chair and moving around to stand in front of his desk.
She was frozen into place. With his men in the room she had been safe, and now she wasn’t. “I just want to earn a living. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
Ivan stared at her, and she felt his assessment as it sickened her.
“I have told you many times, Mia, you do not have to work.”
“I can’t live on noth—”
“Come here.”
Her stomach turned. Do it for Reese. Do it for Reese. Do it for Reese.
Every step she took shattered her world.
“Please stop! You’re hurting me. I don’t want this. Please!”
In the back of her mind she remembered the shout, the pain, and yet she stepped a little closer to Ivan.
When she had stepped as close to him as she could without him just grabbing her, she stared and waited.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
This was what hurt so much. He didn’t have a clue that what he’d done was wrong. All he saw was that she was being difficult.
Staring at the man who tormented her life, it was difficult not to vomit, but she held it all in. She had to. Reese was over six months old now, and she was struggling to make ends meet. The apartment she lived in was past due on the rent. She needed diapers, and with the stress of everything she hadn’t been able to produce any milk so now she needed formula. She was an epic failure, just like her mother promised she would be, and it hurt, every single time. Every time Reese cried, she had failed. There was nothing she could do that was right.
Ivan had power in the streets where she lived. He was in charge, in control. No one helped her for fear of what Ivan would do. There were times he would visit her, holding Reese, and she knew there was a threat with the way he held him. At any time, he could take her son, and leave. She would have nothing, and even though the actions that created Reese were the most brutal a woman could ever go through, he was the only thing that was good. She couldn’t lose him.
“Look at you.” Ivan stood, and then his arms were wrapped around her. She closed her eyes, hating his touch, hating this man with all of her being. He had terrorized the neighborhood, poisoned it with his drugs and the women he made whore themselves out on the street. She should be thankful that he didn’t want to do the same to her, which was strange. Most of the women he was with ended up on the streets earning their keep.
She didn’t know why he kept on insisting on this between them.
“All you have to is ask me, Mia, and everything will be yours.”
“I just want to work. I want to work for myself and for Reese, please.”
Ivan touched her cheek, and she tensed up, hating his touch, but knowing she had to do it.
“Damn, every time we’re apart I forget just how beautiful you really are.” His fingers sank into her hair as his lips were close to hers. She tensed up, not knowing what she should do. She didn’t want this, but what could she do? There was no way her son could starve or live this life out of her own hatred.
The last thing she wanted was for Reese to grow up to hate her.
Just as Ivan’s lips were about to brush hers, the door opened, and she immediately pulled away from him, bowing her head.
“Sir, we’ve got a problem.”
“I’m not no one’s problem. I wanted a fucking drink, so why didn’t you give me a fucking drink!” Someone yelled, and the next moment he stumbled in. “Well, if it isn’t old fuck-face, Ivan Smith. I thought you were dead.”
“And I never thought I’d see the day that a Denton came to my part of town.”
The Denton man burst out laughing. “Decided I was in the mood to pick a fucking fight, and guess what? You were the first one I thought of.”
She watched as Ivan stood up, clicking his knuckles. “What did he do?”
“He’s upset a few of our customers. Brandy is taking care of them, but it’s going to cost us a pretty penny to deal with that. He’s smashed Rick’s face into the counter, and a couple of our boys are struggling.”
“Why couldn’t you pick another day? I was dealing with my lady,” Ivan said, pointing to her.
Denton turned toward her, and his brown eyes cut her right to the bone. She recognized the pain in his eyes, and then it was like something changed in his gaze. He stared at her, and the pain seemed to lessen a little. His brow creased as he looked at her, and she kept her hands clenched at her sides, not wanting to talk to anyone associated with Ivan.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Denton said. He got to his feet and stepped toward her.
Alarmed by his sudden change, she took a step back. The last person she wanted to ask for help from was Ivan. The only person she could trust was herself.
“Damian, she’s mine,” Ivan said. “Mia, go downstairs, and bring Reese back here at three o’clock. I’m done playing games.”
Suddenly Damian gripped her arms, holding her in place, and stopping her from moving. She tensed up as he kept on staring at her.
“This is beyond fucking funny.”
“Let go of me. You’re hurting me,” she said.
He didn’t release her, but he did ease up his hold so that he was no longer hurting her. She didn’t know where to look as he kept on holding her.
“This girl is not yours,” Damian said.
“I don’t know you.” She tried to pull out of his hands, but he wouldn’t let her go.
“Damian, I mean it. I don’t want to go to war with you over this. That’s the mother of my kid, so fucking move.”
She glanced toward Ivan and couldn’t help the disgust she felt for him from showing. Damian smirked.
“No, this woman doesn’t belong to you. Never has.” It was like he had stopped being drunk and woken up finally. “She’s coming with me, and whatever kid she has.” He turned toward the room. “And you’re going to let her go.”
No one had ever spoken to Ivan like that and gotten away with it. She had heard the rumors that he had torn a man apart for disrespecting him. This guy who held her had a death wish. When Ivan and his men made to move forward, Damian held a gun straight at Ivan’s head. “I will blow your fucking brains out, do you understand me? Remember who the fuck I am.”
Much to her surprise Ivan held his hands out in surrender, and suddenly she was being pulled away from one monster to another.