Prologue
Mia, nine years old
Mia Banks stared up at the sky. In the distance, she could hear her mother arguing with the man that gave her drugs and to men. Mia had been told to stay out of the way, and she was. The guys that came around to the apartment sometimes gave her the creeps.
Resting her hands beneath her head, she looked up and wondered what it would be like to be far away from this horrible place. Every time she left her apartment, the stink of weed and mold was so overpowering that it was a struggle to leave. Her mother never walked her to school anymore, and she was glad.
Some of the dads would pull her mother aside, and ask how much for a visit. It was … gross. Some of her classmates looked at her with disdain, and she had no friends at all.
Suddenly, her mother came toward her.
“What’s the matter, pumpkin?” her mother said, sitting on the ground.
From the smile on her face, she’d gotten what she wanted, and the fresh mark on her arm was all Mia needed to know. “Nothing.”
Her mother would be happy for a little time, and then she would start screaming, and things would go bad for a little while.
“Honey, don’t ever let a man control you, and you stick up for yourself, okay? No one is ever worth this,” she said, pointing at herself.
It wasn’t the first time her mother had advised her against being like her, and Mia doubted it would be the last.
Leaning against her shoulder, she smiled. “I was wishing on the stars.”
“What were you wishing?” Her mother was already falling asleep. It was warm outside, and so there was no worry of having to take her to their room.
“I was wishing that when I was older there would be a man. A man that is handsome, protective, and so sweet. When he looks at me, I’m the only one for him, and he can’t imagine a life without me. I’ll be his everything, and he’ll be mine.” Mia smiled thinking about her wish, and when she turned to her mother, she was already asleep.
If she hadn’t heard, then she hoped with all of her heart that it would come true.
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 Bett
y. 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.