Three

“ H ow did I have no fucking clue Nico had a daughter?” I ask my brother as he pulls his McLaren through the gates of our boss’s property. I would call it a mansion, but it's more like a compound on the outskirts of the city.

“He doesn’t bring her up in conversation much. She’s leverage someone could hold over his head, and from what I’ve seen, she’s her father’s and brother’s biggest weakness,” Trevor answers.

I wish other people were that protective of their daughters, instead of handing them over like some trophy.

“Grab the suture kit from the trunk,” he says, reading something on his phone. “Sounds like she will probably need stitches. Do you feel comfortable doing them, little Manning?” My brother still uses my nickname his friends used to call me in high school.

“Yeah, I can handle that.” I’m feeling confident, because in this job, that’s one thing I’ve gotten a lot of practice with. I have a few more years before I’ll ever be considered a doctor to normal people but, let’s be honest, I gave up normal years ago.

One of the guards meets Trevor and I in the driveway walking us into the house. “She’s in her bathroom on the second floor. Says she slipped on the pool deck and busted her head right above her eye.”

Trevor nods, and we follow the guard to the upstairs of the expansive mansion. The brunette sitting on the bathroom counter looks every bit the nineteen-year-old Trevor said she was.

“Hi, Arianna,” Trevor says gently to the girl, who’s holding a bloody wet rag to her head. Recognition flares briefly in her eyes as she takes in my brother. He moves his attention to her friend sitting beside her. “I’m Trevor, a friend of her father’s. I’m a doctor.” Then Trevor gestures to me. “This is my brother, Trent, who’s in training. I’m going to let him stitch you up, and then I’ll do an exam to rule out a concussion. Is that okay?” His normal demeanor with clients is gone, and his original bedside manner that he learned at NYU is back in place.

They both study us for a minute. It’s probably obvious we’re siblings, considering we look so much alike. Both with light blonde hair and broad shoulders. Except I’m an inch taller with green eyes like our mother, whereas he has our father’s blue ones.

Arianna nods, not speaking.

Her friend pipes up. “I know who you are. I’m Lexi and my father is Leo,” she says, referring to Nico’s advisor and our superior.

“Good… Then you know you can trust us,” Trevor says, as I put my gloves on and move to examine the gash on her head .

“The pool deck was slippery, huh?” I ask as I clean her wound.

Arianna nods again, but her friend growls, “Yeah, something like that.” I notice Arianna push her hand into the side of the girl’s leg, wordlessly telling her to be quiet. The gesture has my hackles rising.

Focusing back on task, I tell her, “I’m going to numb the area up a little bit. The needle poke will be the worst part, okay?”

“Okay,” she breathes out, reaching for her friend’s hand, who’s busy ogling my brother.

As I continue to stitch her up, she handles every bit of it like a pro.

“Trent, how old are you?” Lexi asks.

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Are you single? Arianna here is very recently single.” Her tone is flirty as she tilts her head toward her friend, my patient, lifting her eyebrow suggestively.

“Shut up, Lex,” Arianna whisper-shouts to her friend. It’s clear she’s mortified, and it almost makes me chuckle.

My answer comes naturally. “I’m taken…but I have no doubt she will find someone to cherish her.”

I feel the girls studying me, probably wanting to ask me more, but I stay quiet as I admire my handiwork. “All done.”

Arianna turns to glance in the mirror, carefully examining the inch-long set of stitches over her eyebrow

“You look like a badass, A,” Lexi says, gently elbowing her friend .

Arianna giggles and turns back around to face me. “Thank you, Trent.” The smile she gives me is a shy one. “You are going to make a great doctor.”

I move to the sink, washing my hands as I reply, “Thanks. Now let Trevor make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

A few minutes into Trevor assessing her, two bare-chested guys in swimming trunks walk into the room. It’s obvious they were at Arianna’s pool party by their attire and the fact the guards let them in the house. Yet something doesn’t feel right.

“I thought she told you to leave, loser,” Lexi growls, jumping down from the countertop.

“Shut the fuck up. You know she didn’t mean it,” the guy grinds out. The way he speaks to her is enough to raise another red flag.

“I did,” Arianna says over Trevor’s shoulder, who is now facing them. She sounds more confident than she did a moment ago. Another observation that lets me know just how serious this might be.

“Yeah, right…you always come crawling back.” Douchebag number one rolls his eyes.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Trevor demands, taking an intimidating step forward.

“Don’t tell me what’s enough; she’s my girlfriend. And who the fuck are you?” the guy snarls, like he just noticed us both standing here. Not sure how he wouldn’t notice, considering our builds aren’t the kind easily ignored.

“I tried to warn you, you were fucking with the wrong one,” Lexi sneers, eyes narrowed. Her attention doesn’t stray from the two unwanted men in the room, like she’s ready to strike.

And now, there is no doubt her fall wasn’t an accident at all .

Douchebag number one steps toward the girls, nostrils flaring, and Trevor barrels forward in the next breath, throwing him up against the wall with a resounding thud.

“Chill the fuck out and watch your mouth,” he warns through gritted teeth.

“Fuck you… And fuck you , bitch!” the douchebag shouts over Trevor to Arianna. My hand moves to my back, not wanting to escalate things too soon, but ready if I need to be. I keep my eye on douchebag number two, standing wide-eyed by the door, seemingly terrified of the reality his friend has gotten him into.

“She’s the only reason I didn’t slit your throat for what you did, you asshole,” Lexi shouts right back, pulling out her switchblade. Damn, she is Leo reincarnated.

The supposed boyfriend—well, ex now—nods toward my brother. “Ari, is this guy the reason why?”

Trevor’s grip around his neck tightens. “Don’t speak to her. Who I am is none of your business. Did you put your hands on her?” he growls, and it reminds me of the first time I saw my brother like this.

That night confirmed everything I had been assuming about his career as a doctor and opened opportunities for me that I didn’t even know I needed.

The douchebag’s friend finally grows a set of balls, taking a step toward my brother, and I pull the gun out of the waistband of my pants. “Don’t even fucking think about it. You two idiots really have no clue what you’ve done.”

“Sh-hit,” he stutters. He holds his hands up, trying to back away from me, but I’m following his path and pinning him against the wall. Not that I think he has it in him to try anything again, but just in case .

Lexi releases a wicked laugh from behind us. “I’ve been trying to tell them that.”

Not removing the gun from his skull, I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Nico.

Per usual, he answers without saying anything.

“How close?” I ask vaguely, just as I’ve been trained to—never give away too much information unless you know the line is for sure secure.

“Why? Is she okay?” The worry in his voice is something I’ve never heard from him.

“She’s fine, but we have a little problem we need to deal with. And you are going to want to be part of this. Is Bishop with you?” I ask, knowing Arianna’s brother will likely be the one to put a bullet in this fuck head.

“Who the fuck is that?” the boyfriend asks, still ballsy enough to think he has the right to any answers.

Nico is quiet for a second before he speaks again. “Bishop and Leo are with me. We’ll be there in five. I’ll send Marco up, and he’ll show you to the basement.”

“Got it.”

Marco and another guard show up within just a few minutes, dragging the two guys downstairs as they literally kick and scream. Before we leave, Trevor steps back over to Arianna, his demeanor softening. “You okay?”

She simply nods.

“You don’t seem to have a concussion, but take it easy tonight.” His tenderness with her is so foreign to me; I can feel my eyebrows pulling together as I watch them .

Trevor brushes a strand of hair out of her face, and she looks up at him. “Baby brother did good with your stitches. You’ll heal up in no time.”

She swallows roughly, and I swear if I didn’t know any better, I would think these two knew each other far better than Trevor’s led on.

“Thank you,” she whispers, shifting her gaze to me. “Thank you both.”

My brother grips the bathroom counter like he is trying to ground himself before he asks, “One last thing… I know both of you understand what’s about to happen down there. Did we misunderstand anything?”

Arianna shakes her head.

“Okay, is there anything else we need to know?”

“This isn’t the first time,” Lexi confesses on Arianna’s behalf. I can tell she’s also loyal like her father, and her friendship with Arianna runs deep.

“Does he know who your father is? You don’t think this is an attack on him?” I ask as the thought pops into my head.

She quickly shakes her head. “No, he just thinks I’m some spoiled rich girl.”

“He’s an asshole who wants more than he deserves,” Lexi says with a huff.

There’s a pause in the air, Trevor and I both quietly waiting for the girls to say more.

Arianna’s attention flits between us before landing back on my brother. “He was upset because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

I can practically feel the heat coming from Trevor; he’s boiling mad at her admission .

“Tell me exactly what he did?” Trevor presses, his voice deepening an octave. Another moment of silence passes, with Arianna chewing the inside of her lip, before he demands, “Ari?”

Ari, huh?

My eyes flick to Lexi, who’s watching them closely, likely having the same thoughts I am.

“When I said no and walked away from him, he pushed me from behind. Then leaned down over me, laughed in my face, and slapped me as hard as he could.”

And that’s all it takes for Trevor to be out the door, apparently ready to commit murder.

If you had asked me a few years ago what I thought my future would look like, following in my brother’s footsteps, I certainly wouldn’t have answered that it involved holding a knife to the throat of whoever pissed our boss off that day.

When I turned eighteen, I started visiting Trevor more often in the city, especially with the excitement of me coming to NYU for medical school. It became obvious quickly that he was working for someone other than the hospital. His lavish lifestyle and the company he kept were my first signs, but then I saw him protect a friend of his at a club not long after I moved to New York. That night, I discovered what I thought I knew about my brother was only a small scratch on the surface of what he was truly involved in.

The Saints. A secret society led by some of the most elite men in the world .

A few months later, he invited me to a meeting with his boss, and I jumped at the opportunity. It couldn’t have come at a better time.

For as long as I could remember, being a doctor was my ultimate goal. So, the thought of getting to do that and also training in other areas was thrilling. The prospect of what being a part of the society meant for my situation with the girl I loved was the driving force and sole reason I wanted in without any hesitation.

Yeah, I knew how to take care of myself in a fight, but I wanted to be feared . To know how to truly defend and protect the people I care about. Especially when the most important person to me was tangled up with the Mafia.

Within a month, I was moving across the pond to work on my undergrad. At the same time, I trained with the top members of The Saints in weaponry, defense, technology and, of course, the four core values they stand by.

Loyalty. Strength. Service. Secrecy.

Four values that are now etched into my skin and my soul. Which is why the weight of the nine-millimeter in my hand is a familiar thing to me at this point. Not foreign, but comfortable. Being a part of this society means you have to not only complete the mission you are tasked with for the elite group, but also to take the life of anyone who threatens one of our own.

Unfortunately for this punk and his friend, he didn’t just threaten one of our own. He threatened the head of the east coast Saints’ daughter. No one touches a woman under his watch, and certainly not his own flesh and blood.

Every member of The Saints has killed someone. Whether we are doctors, lawyers, politicians, pilots…we are all men of st rength and loyalty. And when that loyalty is tested, there’s a price to pay. The big difference in the way Nico and the other leaders run The Saints compared to what I know of other underground organizations, such as the Mafia, is that we keep to ourselves unless someone messes with one of our own or interventions are needed involving innocent citizens.

I like to think of us as the Batmans of the world. Even if I would never say that out loud to another member, it's a running joke inside my head. The irony that I dressed up as his mortal enemy only a few years ago never goes unnoticed by my brain. And then I spiral into thoughts of that summer night… when Ashley walked into my house.

The Saints gained its name back in the 1900s when it was formed on the streets of New Orleans. Just like today, the men running it were nowhere near the societal standards of sainthood, but they were vigilantes. Morally conscious criminals, as some would say. They used their power and skills to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, earning them the name.

The door to the basement swings open and rage flares in my boss’s eyes, unlike anything I have ever seen.

“Which one touched her?” Nico’s powerful presence is felt throughout the room as he enters, followed by his son, Bishop, and his advisor, Leo. All three muscular and tall, with dark features, Nico doesn’t look old enough to be Bishop’s father, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the three men were brothers.

Nico’s feet guide him toward Trevor as the answer to his question is obvious by the state of the punk in Trevor’s grasp.

“Him,” Trevor snarls, holding douchebag number one by the hair and throwing him onto the floor at Nico’s feet .

“And what about this one?” Bishop asks as he runs his gun along the jaw of the friend who the guard tied to the chair while I gagged him earlier.

“He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t stop it or seem to have an issue with it either,” I respond truthfully. I love my friends from back in North Carolina, but I don’t give a fuck who you are; if you touched your woman like that in front of me, you would have been the one bleeding.

“I’ll spare you and make it quick then,” Bishop whispers in his ear, wasting no time before putting a bullet in his head.

I wish I could say I flinch, but this lifestyle has made me so used to scenarios like this one. I knew what the deal was the minute we came down the stairs to the soundproof basement Nico had built in the bunker under his garage.

If Arianna’s boyfriend hadn’t comprehended the severity of what he did before, he certainly does now. The begging and pleading falling from his lips is lost to deaf ears.

Nico puts his Italian leather-covered foot over his mouth, shutting him up. Aiming his gun toward the boy’s head, he commands his guards to pick him up. The motion draws my attention to the four tally marks etched into his forearm.

Looking down at mine, I’m taken back to the night he marked me with the final one.

My initiation.

A few months earlier

“Do you vow to always exhibit loyalty, strength, service, and secrecy to The Saints, as a committed member from this day forward?” my boss asks, extending his left arm out .

“I do,” I reply, locking my arm with Nico’s, his four tallies on display beside my three.

“Trent Manning, I hereby declare you a sworn member and brother of The Saints. Tonight, you have completed the final requisite.” Leo passes him the brand to his free hand, and Nico sears it into my skin. The smell of burned flesh permeates the air.

Clenching my molars, I glance down at my wrist, admiring the fourth tally mark that has just been etched into my skin forever. Anticipation runs through me.

I bring my eyes back up to Nico’s as he continues to speak, face to face with me, but also addressing the crowd of members surrounding us.

“Trent, you have earned the four marks of our brotherhood, officially completing your initiation into The Saints. You have proven your loyalty to us by relocating to Europe and training with our brothers. Through your rigorous hours of preparation, both physically and mentally, you have shown your strength. With your dedication to your studies in the medical field, you vowed to fulfill a much-needed role within this society and be of service whenever called upon. And tonight, you have proven your commitment to our fourth and final marker… Secrecy. You accepted your mission and did exactly as you were disciplined to do without question.”

Tonight, I was in charge of finishing a mission that we started over a month ago. We were tasked with taking down the leader of one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the world. He may be sick in the head, but he’s clever, outsmarting us for weeks with his disappearing act any time we would locate him in a public place. I was fortunate enough to land an internship with a well-known surgeon, one who happens to have worked extensively on our target. After several post-op visits, I figured out his escape route—always arriving in two cars, using the other one as a decoy. Once I nailed down his patterns, we put a plan in place. It felt damn good to be a part of that takedown, his chin strap and all. But unfortunately for me, his second-in-command caught on to what happened, and when I went to catch a ride after our team had secured the target, I was dragged down an alley and thrown into an unmarked, blacked-out car. I kept my cool, remained calm, and didn’t say shit, allowing myself to be used as the bait I was meant to be. Nico was tracking him closely as well, and like the ignorant asshole he was, our target fell right into our laps. Our efforts effectively dismantled the power source of their northeast ring.

“I’m honored to vow my loyalty, strength, service, and secrecy to you and The Saints,” I answer him truthfully. These men have become my brothers and mentors over the past three years, and I know without a doubt there is nothing they wouldn’t do for me and I for them.

The sound of the piece of shit ex-boyfriend falling into a pool of his own blood brings my attention back to the scene in front of me.

I look around, thankful the service I could offer didn’t involve being the clean-up crew for this mess.

Nico’s voice cuts through the human stench in the air as he addresses Trevor and I. “Thank you both. Keep your phones near you, in case I have any concerns about Arianna tonight.”

We nod in understanding. “And Trent, don’t forget about the black-tie event on Thursday. It’s medical related and the perfect time to set some plans into place. I want you there with Trevor. Leo will debrief you both later this week.”

The most excitement I’ve felt in three years thrums through my body.

“I’ll be there, sir.”

How could I ever forget?

She’ll be there.