1. Matías

1

MATíAS

Present Day

T he seagulls cawed overhead, circling the edge of the cliff.

Fuck, there was a bird there caught in a fishing line about halfway down the wall.

"Oh my God. Someone has to get that bird," one of the tourists on my tour whispered to her tandem buddy.

My kayak rocked as I shielded my eyes and glanced up. The seagull flapped its free wing tirelessly before giving up and falling back against the rock face, only to start trying to escape all over again.

It was trapped in a way that it would only get free if someone saved it.

That person couldn’t be me. Not right then. I was in the middle of a kayak tour.

The seagull hung a good thirty feet above us, calling out in distress. The easiest way to free it would be to cut the string from the top .

"Don't worry," I smiled at the tourist. “When our tour is over, I'll go cut the string if someone doesn't get to it first."

"You will?" An older woman with ridiculously oversized sunglasses and a sun hat frowned at me. She didn't believe a word that came out of my mouth. I didn't blame her. Why would you trust a kayak guide in a tourist destination? She didn’t know me from shit.

"I will." I nodded. Other kayaks from my group were making their way to my meeting spot out of the way of the boats that traveled by.

There were two ways to reach the inside of the Benagil caves. By kayak or by boat. Paddle boards were also an option but I classified those in the same category as kayaks. You still had to paddle yourself there.

The tourists started whispering and pointing to the bird. A boat passed by and when they saw my group pointing, they glanced up and started pointing and shouting too.

Rio, the driver of the boat, glanced at me and shook his head.

Yeah, we were on the same page. We needed to get these people out of here or the tours would be ruined.

Sticking two fingers in my mouth, I gave a sharp whistle. "Let's go! The path is clear!" I pointed to the cave.

The southern coast of sunny Portugal was made of beautiful beaches, high cliffs, and a network of caves you could paddle into or through.

This place was gloriously disconnected from the rest of the world.

They had WIFI, but the Portuguese people were different. Their values were different. And the tourists were mostly elderly people and young families from Europe. Sometimes the States.

And I needed this .

This anonymity after fucking off from the life I'd had before.

Blowing out a breath, I paddled through the cave, leading the way. Blue light reflected off the water and around the limestone from a hole at the top.

This place was stunning. Exactly what I needed to recharge and figure out my next step, and there were enough English speaking tourists that I easily got a job.

We made it to the Benagil cave, and I gave my spiel on how the cave was formed, how it would change over the next couple hundred years, and pointed out the fossils in the rocks. As much as it pained me, I even made a few expected dad jokes. Then I moved off to the side while the group spent fifteen minutes exploring in the cave.

"Hey, my man." Henry jogged over. He was the one American working for the tour company and he was insufferable. So different from the local people.

I gave him a half-smile, then glanced back at my group, making sure none of them were wandering places they shouldn't be. Or not trying to piss in the water because there were no bathrooms here.

Not that I cared about that, but sizable boats constantly floated in and out for their tours. I couldn’t have anyone in my tours getting struck because of their stupidity, and kayak tours were the only ones who could get out and step foot on the sand.

"There's going to be a party at Cav's house tonight." Henry stepped closer and lowered his voice.

"Cool," I murmured. If I showed the right amount of disinterest, Henry usually left me alone for a few days after. He had what I believed the Americans called pick me energy.

He wanted to be the cool guy that everyone liked and wanted to be around. He was a solid ten years younger than me and more shallow than the water on the beach at low-tide.

Stepping even closer, he shrugged his shoulders and got a wild glint in his eyes. "You'll want to come to this party. It's going to have some crazy shit, man."

"Not interested." I never went to parties. I never hung out with the guides past grabbing a beer after a shift, and that was with a very select few.

The only person I really spoke to was an elderly Portuguese neighbor who was cranky as fuck and teaching me Portuguese. As a Spanish speaker, I thought Portuguese would be an easy language to learn, but it was more difficult than I'd anticipated.

Portuguese people sounded like Russian people speaking Spanish, but using words I'd never heard before. And the few run-ins I'd had with Brazilian Portuguese? Those were different words too. Everyone used different fucking words.

"Come on. It's not often that there's any good stuff to take." Henry dropped his head back like I was too slow to pick up what he was putting down.

Somehow, this Cav guy was going to have drugs at his party. Which scared absolutely no one because unless you were the dealer, drugs were decriminalized in Portugal.

"Why the fuck would I want anything to do with that?" I let my true feelings slip through for a second before I reschooled my features to that of a pleasant, tour guide.

Drugs had almost ruined my brother, Lafe. It wasn't his choice to get wrapped up in them. It had been forced on him by our father, so who could blame him for tasting the goods just to deal with his shit life?

My past was scarred by many things, and some were too much to ever want to revisit .

I counted drugs among them.

That, and I'd never make myself vulnerable around any of these pendejos .

Henry blinked, then smiled like I hadn't snapped at him. "It's nothing that's going to kill you. Just make the night a little more enjoyable. Cav's hooked up with some people who are supplying the party. They want to network."

They wanted to find local footmen to push their product.

I pulled a face in disgust. Was this what low-life crime was like outside of the Institution? Or fuck, even inside it but street level?

As the only legitimate son of Vicente Castillo, everything I'd seen of the top officials of the Institution were more like rabid businessmen with vicious ambitions and cut-throat moves. Very formal and self-important. I had to be one of them for so long…

We were nothing like this watered down version of kids trying to get drugs distributed.

"I'm not going to deal drugs." I cut my eyes at him. He couldn't see them behind the mirrored sunglasses but he must have felt the heat because he straightened up.

"Hey, hey, hey." He raised his hands. "Not so loud."

I almost rolled my eyes, but I hadn't changed that much since leaving South America.

"Listen, I just thought since, you know..." He glanced around.

"Thought what?" Don't ask me why I was humoring him.

"I've seen you with your shirt off. That's a gunshot wound. I know what those look like. I've seen enough movies. And you're from somewhere in South America, which you've still never told me where." Henry raised his brows like he was chastising me. "I figured you'd be into this kind of stuff. No." His eyes widened. "I didn't mean that because of where you're from. I just mean that you have this cool accent, and with the scar, I thought you'd have to had seen some stuff, that's all. Like Scarface or something."

My mild expression slowly melted off and my lips pulled down.

All that kept flashing through my head were those final minutes before I received the gunshot wound.

Trying to help my half-brothers stay alive. Trying to prove myself to them so they'd finally accept me as family. But it had all been a useless effort.

The four of them were so tightly bonded, that even after they did accept me, and I truly believed they did in their own way, it wasn't what I thought it would be. They had too many memories tying them together, and too many old perceptions of who they had always thought I was to ever let me fully in.

It hadn't stopped me from trying for her , though.

I stood by the half-wall at the edge of the cliff, staring out at the ocean. The night sky was clear and the stars were bright. El Chato was a fantastic restaurant to get good food, and meet with people off radar. I'd used it a time or two to meet Javier.

This time wasn't nearly as pleasant. I swallowed down the sour taste in my mouth as I waited. Valentina, my snake of a sister, texted that she was out here. Yet, she wasn't.

If she didn't show up soon, I'd give up on her. There were a thousand different ways to get the information I wanted. I'd simply have to take the time to flush all of them out.

Someone, somewhere in the organization knew where Grace Black was.

Heels tapped quietly on the stone and I turned around. The woman coming around the side of the building was perfection according to society's accepted beauty standards. She was also the female version of me. Between Andre, Valentina, and myself, Vicente’s genes had run strong.

And her eyes were sharp and frigid. Just like Vicente's. I'd always known she was a psychopath, like him, and the eyes gave it away.

"I didn't think you were coming." I raised a brow.

"You have something you want to ask, and I have something I need." She waved her hand as she stopped a few feet from me. Her anger was palpable. It was a wonder the guard creeping up behind her didn't shy away from fear of being burned.

"What happened to Amorette's sister?" I dove right into the meat of why I wanted to see her.

One side of her lips curled up as she glanced at me out of the corner of her eyes. "Trying to slide between that whore's legs? It's not enough that she's fucking every illegitimate child Vicente had?"

Had...because Valentina had him killed. I'd never guessed I'd be living in a world where my sister was a bigger threat than my father.

"Don't start with that fucking shit." I glared at her. I'd entertained the idea of Amorette for a span of ten seconds. But it didn't take long to figure out it was what she represented that drew me in. It wasn't actually her .

That tiny woman was the spoke in the wheel of my brothers, and it seemed like an easy way to join them.

Still, just because I didn't want her didn't mean I didn't care for her. She was the sister I wished I'd been given. Not this viper in front of me.

And when she was taken by my father's people, so was her identical twin sister. Only we couldn't find any proof of where she was or where she'd been. Even though our hierarchy had been shaken up since Vicente's death, I still had sway, and I could help in ways my brothers couldn't .

I wanted to find Grace for Amorette, and my brothers.

"You know it's true. And it's disgusting. We're better than taking sloppy-seconds. Or thirds, or fourths, or in your case, fifths." She wrinkled her nose.

"If you say another word like that, I'll fuck you up." It didn't matter to me that she was a woman. In our world, that meant nothing.

I didn't hold the same values, and this bitch? She'd deserve it and I couldn't find it in myself to believe otherwise.

She smirked and faced me. "You wouldn't dare. Anyway, I might have the information you want. But there's something I want in return."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. She was every inch as manipulative as Vicente. Whatever she wanted would not be good for me. Hell, she'd already had too much fun whipping me in the basement.

All for giggles.

"What do you want?" I asked, but I already knew this was pointless. I might as well walk away now, except my feet stayed glued to the stone. Information was power.

"Turns out there are some holdouts who feel a woman shouldn't lead." She shrugged. "I could kill them. Or you could come to my side and show support."

Valentina didn't care either way, that was clear. But what she did want was the quickest path to ultimate power. For whatever reason, she thought that was getting me to her side.

"There's no fucking way that I would ever do that, you psycho bitch. But you do know where Grace is. If you tell me, I'll make sure your death is quick. No torturing like our brothers want to do."

"Your brothers maybe, not mine."

"Tell me where she is." I pulled myself up to my tallest height and did my fucking best to intimidate her .

"Come to my side," she returned.

"Hell will swallow us first," I growled, losing my patience.

Multiple sets of footsteps were coming our way. Fuck, my brothers found me. With Valentina. They were going to think I was a traitor.

All because of this cunt.

"Tell me where Grace Degas Black is."

Valentina turned to look at her guard. "Plan B."

"You fucking cunt! What is your game? What's your goal? To kill us all? It's never going to happen."

"Matt?...Matt?" Henry's face wavered back into view. "You okay, man?"

The world rocked as I fought to hold my balance. I was close to passing out. "Yeah," I gasped, working hard to find my breath.

"What's wrong? You look like you saw a ghost."

Not a ghost. Only the shock and betrayal on my family's faces before I was shot and kicked over a cliff. That they could think I was conspiring against them had hurt more than the bullet-shaped hole ripping through my body.