“Yeah, us gangbangers really bring down the price of real estate around here.” He chuckles, and I see Aeron roll his eyes in the rearview mirror.
“They know we keep the neighborhood safe, plus most of them owe us one thing or another, so they won’t moan about living next to criminals, especially not as we line their pockets like we do our own,” Aeron casually drawls, like having the rich of the city in your pocket isn’t a big deal but an everyday occurrence.Jesus.
“And there’s just something so enticing about bad boys, isn’t there, Nightingale?” Jude whispers in my ear, and I shiver, then clench my teeth as his words sink in.
“As long as they just look and don’t touch. I will cut a bitch, rich or poor, who lays even so much as a manicured finger on any of you,” I growl, and their deep chuckles only make me frown harder.
“I’ll give you the knife myself, darling Nightingale, and we can slice them apart together, then fuck in their blood,” Jude offers, and Jesus fucking Christ, the idea of murder shouldn’t turn me on as much as it clearly is. Never said I wasn’t as batshit as the rest of them.
Before I can even formulate a response, Knox is turning left, pulling up to a massive set of wrought-iron gates, set in a high stone wall which looks pale as marble in the dying light. Winter is drawing closer, the days are shorter now, so even though it’s not yet five, the sun is already beginning to set.
We pause at a small building where two men in suits wait, glancing into the window, and then opening the gate and waving us through. The truck smoothly glides up the long winding drive, trees making the land either side of us full of shadows, and I shudder, despite my thick jumper and the warmth of the car.
“You alright,Azizam?” Tarl asks, taking my hand in his and putting it to his lips to place a kiss there. I’m in between him and Jude, their bodies pressed up against either side of me, and it's a place that I love to be.
“Yes,” I answer, craning my neck to get a better view of the house that’s coming into view. “Just a little nervous, I guess. I’m not that keen on unknown places, if you hadn’t already guessed.”
I gasp as we come to the front of the house, the dying rays of the sun hitting the pale stone and making it look like it’s on fire. It's breathtaking, with countless windows facing us, as well as a columned porch, giving it an old-world vibe.
“Welcome to our home, Dove,” Aeron says, and I turn to glance at him, seeing a look of amusement on his handsome face, the bastard.
We pull to a stop in front of the porch, and I’m surprised to see Adam jogging down the stairs in a henley and slacks, coming over to open the back door. A blast of cold air has goose bumps peppering my skin underneath my clothes, and I’m quick to take Jude’s hand as he helps me out of the car.
“Boys!” Adam greets, his face split into a wide grin as he pulls first Jude, then Tarl into a hug. I find I like that about him; he’s not afraid to show affection to the guys. He lets go of them and then his deep blue eyes land on me, his smile softening. “Lark, I’m so pleased that you’re here.”
I walk into his arms, wrapping my own around his trim middle and breathing out a sigh when he hugs me tightly back. This is what it must be like to have a father who cares about you. I step back, blinking away a rush of tears that want to fill my eyes at the thought of growing up with a father like Adam instead of Rufus.
“Adam,” Knox greets, giving Adam a hug once I’m released and squeezing tightly.
“Got back to your workout routine I see, son,” Adam wheezes, laughing as he gives Knox a manly slap on the back, and then turns to embrace Aeron. I shiver as a breeze brushes past me, making my hair fly about my face. “Let’s get you inside, out of the cold,” Adam states when he looks over at me, taking my hand and placing it in the crook of his elbow. He leads me up the three stone steps and through the double wooden doors, that an honest-to-God butler holds open for us, white gloves and everything.
My steps stumble as we enter the foyer, a crystal chandelier sparkling so far above us that I have to crane my neck to see the decorative ceiling. The floor is a black and white tile, in smallintricate patterns, with a wide sweeping staircase in front of us, and various doors line the walls either side of us.
“Wow,” I mutter, Adam pausing to let me look around at the vast space. “You guys grew up here?”
Aeron comes to stand next to me, and I can see the pride in his eyes as he looks around at the grandeur that surrounds us.
“Yep, Dad is from old money,” he tells me, and I freeze, worried that Adam will be pissed at Aeron for telling me that much. Adam squeezes my hand, then leans in.
“But a relative of mine gambled it all away, so it left us with the house and not much else aside from a single tailor shop. Hence the Tailors were born; we had the connections for the back-end deals with the country’s rich and elite, and the more money we made, the more we could put back into the racecourses and the rest of the businesses.” My head spins with the history lesson, seeing the gang in a new light for the first time. I did not know they came from old money, or that Adam is a self-made man of sorts.
“And the rivalry with the Soldiers? Why did that start?” I ask, freezing as soon as the words leave my mouth.Fucking stupid, Lark.
Adam is also standing rigid, then he heaves out a sigh. “I suppose you’ve earned that truth,” he sighs, and I can feel the tension that surrounds me as the guys seem to hold their breaths. “Come, let’s get settled and I’ll tell you everything from the beginning. But I warn you, it’s not a pretty tale, and, well, you’ll see.”
With another resigned sigh and a grim determination, Adam leads us to the door to our left, opening it to reveal a cozy sitting room with huge couches in a U-shape facing a massive stone fireplace, a small fire lighting up the room in a twisting orange glow. He takes me over to one, indicating with a hand that I sit, then heads over to a drinks cabinet and takes out several crystalglasses. I watch as, with a slightly trembling hand, he lifts a decanter and pours a measure into each glass.
“Where’s Rook?” I ask into the silence, Aeron sitting on one side of me, Jude on the other, snuggling into my side.
Adam looks up from the drinks, his features pinched and his eyebrows drawn together. “He’s dealing with some Soldier business. He’ll be back later, don’t worry.” I can’t help nibbling my lower lip anyway, my fingers playing with the hem of my jumper. “Here.” I look up to find Adam holding a glass out to me, another tightly gripped in his other hand as Knox brings over one each for Aeron, Tarl, and Jude.
I take the glass, my hand quivering as I clasp it, pulling it into me but not taking a sip. Adam throws his own drink back, not even wincing as he swallows, and stands before the fireplace. His shoulders slump inwards, the hand not holding the glass coming up to rub at his face.
“The truth is, I don’t know what started the war between our families, just that my father brought me up to hate Rufus Jackson and all that the Soldiers stood for.”
“Bullshit!” Aeron shouts, leaping to his feet and striding over to face off with his father. They’re a similar height, although Aeron is full of righteous fire whereas Adam just seems defeated. “You’re telling me you commanded me to shoot Lark’s mother because of what? A slight that has been forgotten over the years?” His chest heaves, his arm flung out in my direction, and all I can do is sit there, not moving, barely breathing as Adam’s words penetrate my soul.
“It’s all I knew,” Adam pleads, his head hanging down. “We were raised to hate each other with an anger that was passed down to us, Aeron. Nothing else was acceptable. Tit for tat. It escalated out of control, first with what they did to your mother, then with what I ordered you to do in retaliation, and finally June.”
