Chaos.
It’s everywhere. In everything. It’s in the sun as it rises and the rain when it falls.
It’s in the city movement and in the crowds of people who walk the streets of New York day in, day out.
Chaos reigns above all else.
It lives inside of us, like an unwanted disease with no cure.
I’ve always had an unhealthy relationship with chaos. The chaos inside of me is so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts at times.
My family believes I live to create chaos because I thrive on it.
I don’t.
I live to create chaos because an outside illusion helps to quiet the chaos that burns within me. It’s a distraction. A way to calm the raging storm that builds up inside me.
I need it to drown out the waves of destruction inside my head so I’m able to think clearly. If only for a short time.
I’m known as the insane brother, the one who doesn’t form emotional attachments and who doesn’t know how to process things normally.
I mean, they’d be right. But only because I’m always too far inside my head to focus on anything else. It’s not that I don’t feel things—not at all—it’s that I feel things too much. I feel too deeply to the point where seeing someone I care about hurt makes my skin itch and my insides burn up, until I feel the need to blow something up to stop the feeling.
It’s the night before my eldest brother’s wedding, and if we were any normal family, we’d be celebrating the fact that my brother is tying the knot to the love of his life.
Except we’re not fucking normal. No, we’re the goddamn Mafia and my brother, Luca, is getting married to a woman that he’s never met as part of a business deal. And for some unknown reason, the whole situation is stressing me the fuck out.
I’m not sure if it’s guilt because Luca is having to sacrifice himself, or because we’re bringing an innocent girl into this fucked up war, but it’s been fucking with my head since our father told us the news last month.
Which is exactly why I agreed to come to the new club that just opened in downtown Manhattan—Spotlights—with my friend Jax. Well, I say he’s a friend, his brother Alec is best friends with Luca and so we ended up having to attend functions and shit together. Due to us being close in age—me being twenty-two, and him being twenty-four—we ended up sticking together, and now I’m just kinda fucking stuck with the asshole.
Jax owns one of the most popular clubs in the city—Arcane—and wanted to come check out the competition. My family owns a few nightclubs around the city too, but I tend to favor his over ours. I’d rather my business not be witnessed by my family’s men who work there or visit.
I fucking hate clubs, there’s too many people, it’s too loud, there’s too many flashing lights. But it’s also full of disorder, which is why I’m putting myself through the torture in the hopes it quietens my mind.
“Think they’ll go through with it? Or will one of them be left at the altar?” Jax asks from beside me. He knows the details about the deal made between my family and the Chicago outfit.
“They will. Luca will do anything to help the family, and I’m pretty sure the chick is the obedient type. She won’t want to upset her daddy,” I grunt.
I feel sorry for the poor girl. It’s no secret that my brother is an asshole, and if the whispers from Chicago are true, and the girl is a meek little princess who thrives off spending her father’s money and day drinking with other mindless socialites, then Luca will end up fucking destroying the poor woman. At least she didn’t get stuck with my other brother, Marco. That would have been a fucking shit show, not only does he barely speak, but he’s also been pining after the one who got away for the last ten years.
“Your world is so fucked up man,” he sighs and shakes his head.
Fucking tell me about it.
“Yup,” I say and bob my head before taking a swig of my beer.
Jax keeps talking but I tune him out, too busy focusing on what’s happening around me. The bar is right next to the dance floor, so I have a front row view of all the drunk assholes swaying around to the music that thumps from the speakers.
It’s not too busy, considering the club only opened a few days ago, you would think it would be fucking crammed.
The chaos swirls around inside my head and I find myself zoning out as my eyes focus on the beams of light that flash around the club.
Maybe I should give my dad a call, he might have some work for me, or maybe I could go to the warehouse and see if we’ve got anyone tied up that I can play with, I wouldn’t mind carving out someone’s insides right about now. My family try to keep me away from the interrogation rooms, they don’t like that I sometimes get ahead of myself and end up killing the fuckers before their time.
What can I say? I like the thrill, and sometimes the screams are just too fucking exciting for me to pass up on. I fucking thrive on them.
“Dude, are you fucking listening to me?”
“Uh… sorry. What?” I ask as Jax throws his hands up in exasperation.
“I was saying that this place is no fucking competition. It’s too small. The drinks are too expensive for what they are. It’s fucking nothing compared to Arcane.” He flashes me a smug grin and I roll my eyes.
“No place compares to Arcane according to you. Maybe we should…” my voice trails off as an apparition appears in the middle of the bar.
I don’t know if I’m fucking hallucinating or what, but a fucking angel has just appeared in the middle of the bar.
Everything around me fades away as I stare at the girl stood waiting to be served. Her long brown hair cascades down her shoulders. Her pouty lips are tipped up in a smile as she listens to whatever the girl next to her is saying.
Fuck, she’s a goddamn masterpiece wearing a modest white dress that molds to her perfect body. The dress isn’t something you would usually see being worn in a place like this. Usually, girls tend to wear scraps of material that barely cover their bodies. But my angel is fully covered, leaving everything to the imagination while also looking sexy as fucking sin. I want to storm over there, throw her over my shoulder, take her home and worship her.
My cock grows hard as I continue to stare at the image my mind has conjured up in front of me.
I must have finally lost my mind. Yes, normally the destruction inside me corrupts my every thought, but now my mind is playing tricks on me. I’ve created a breathtakingly gorgeous woman up in my mind and destruction is nowhere to be found.
Great, I’ve gone fucking insane.
I watch as the bartender places two shots of tequila in front of both of the girls and she takes the shot, her throat bobbing as she swallows, and I want to bite down on that neck and mark her as my own.
Hang on a fucking minute—if the bartender sees her, then surely, I’m not making this shit up, right?
“Do you see that?” I gesture towards my angel.
“See what?” Jax asks.
“There,” I bark as I point at her, “the angel at the bar, that’s not in my mind, right?”
“The girl in the white dress? What about her? How much have you had to drink, man? You sound crazier than usual,” he asks with furrowed brows.
Holy fuck, he sees her.
She’s fucking real.
My head swivels back towards her just in time to see her disappearing through the crowd and I don’t think as I jump up to follow her, ignoring Jax as he shouts after me asking me where I’m going.
I make my way through the small crowd in the direction I saw her walking, realizing she was heading towards the exit. But once I finally shove my way through the throngs of people, she’s nowhere to be seen. I make it to the exit and rush outside, I look up and down the street, but she’s gone.
She’s fucking gone. And just like that, the calm I felt in the absence of the chaos is gone too.
I squeeze my eyes shut, silently telling myself that she wasn’t just a part of my imagination and that there must be a way to track her down before letting out a deep breath and heading back inside the club.
I make it back to the bar and sit my ass back down beside Jax as he stares at me in part confusion, part concern. I’m not sure what the fuck he’s looking at me like that for, we’ve known each other for years, he should know that I’m not fucking normal by now.
I flag down the bartender and order a shot of tequila, knowing that if I can’t see my angel tonight, at least I can taste the same thing she did before she disappeared from my orbit.
“You hate tequila,” Jax states with a look of bewilderment.
“Not anymore,” I grunt as I sling the shot back and lick my lips.
I don’t know who the hell that girl is, but she’s too fucking precious for this fucked up world.
When I find her again—and I will fucking find her—I’ll protect her at all costs, even if that means protecting her from myself.
