"Life isn't all about luxury. Sometimes we get our hands dirty to get the things we want." —Ethan
The moon was still out when they entered the bustling streets together. It was late, but the city was still alive—people didn't care that it was past midnight.
"So, what's with you and that white chick, huh? I thought you decided to lay off," Dre Nixon asked his best friend as they made their way toward their street.
Ethan stared at his friend, then looked away. If anyone knew him better than his mom, it was definitely Dre.
"I don't know. Definitely some rich girl trying to mess around," Ethan replied, and Dre chuckled.
"Hey, chill. It's normal for people to stare at you and even stalk you. Maybe she was just curious," Dre teased. Ethan didn't respond.
"Well, if she had my kind of life, she wouldn't have the chance to tease me, would she?" he asked Dre, who fell silent immediately.
They arrived at the house, and Dre shook hands with Ethan before heading to his room.
"Mom," Ethan called, throwing his bag onto the worn-out couch. Life wasn't easy. With bills piling up and his mom struggling to afford her medication, things seemed like they could spiral out of control at any moment.
"Hey, honey, you're back," Lilian said, kissing both sides of her son's cheeks. Ethan wasn't the type to show affection, but he stared at his mother, trying to read what was on her mind.
"You're late, Ethan. I don't want you ending up in jail again because of late-night adventures," Lilian scolded as their eyes met.
"The cops definitely had the wrong information when they arrested me. I wasn't even with the gang when it happened," Ethan revealed, placing his phone on the table.
"If only you had listened to me and stopped frolicking with the gang, maybe—just maybe—we could have had a normal life," Lilian said angrily, her voice breaking.
"Exactly, Mom. There's nothing normal about this life—struggling for even the simplest things. There's nothing normal about Reina's health, and definitely nothing normal about the way Dad died. I stayed away from the gang for too long, let them use us because I couldn't defend myself. We're done with that sh*t, especially with Mr. Markson using Dre for his stupid experiment!" Ethan burst out.
"So you wouldn't listen to your own mother. The path you're about to take isn't worth it. We already lost your dad, Ethan. Your sister and I couldn't survive losing you too—it would kill us," Lilian said. Ethan just stormed to his room in anger.
He lit a cigarette and heard the doorknob twist. It was his baby sister, Reina. He quickly put the cigarette out. Reina was only eight and had been in and out of hospitals for years.
She had beautiful eyes, curly hair, and brown skin to match. "Are you and Mom fighting again, Ethan?" she asked. He shook his head.
"No, it must have been the neighbors," he said. She blinked repeatedly.
"I heard it clearly. It was definitely you and Mom. Stop lying to me—liars go to hell," she said. Ethan laughed.
"Okay, Mother Theresa," he said, kissing her forehead as they laughed together.
His mind drifted back to the night his father was killed. They had been alone, it was raining, and he had returned home in his father's cop uniform.
"There's a case at the station, Lilian. It's really dangerous, and I don't want to be part of it anymore. It involves very influential people, and one of them might be out to get me. If I don't lay low, I feel like I already know too much," he remembered his father saying. Lilian pulled him into her arms.
"Levi, if you're scared of this case, maybe we should let it go. I don't want us involved with those rich folks, please," she had cried.
His dad agreed to let it go—or so they thought—until they received the news of his lifeless body on the streets of Los Angeles. The police said nothing conclusive, and the case was closed. No one did anything for the family Levi left behind.
"Ethan, I love you so much," Reina's voice reached him as she kissed his cheeks and snuggled close. He never moved on from his father's death; it left a lingering anger and bitterness in his heart—a feeling he would never let go of until justice was served.
His eyes moved to Reina, fast asleep on his bed. She loved it here more than anywhere else, and he wasn't going to stop her from being genuinely happy.
His phone pinged with a text from Dre:
"Emergency at the lounge."
Ethan took a deep breath, walked to his closet, and grabbed a hoodie before stepping out of the house. The lights were off; he was sure his mom was fast asleep.
"I didn't think he would call us tonight, brah! But when it came in, I knew it was d*mn important," Dre said as the car pulled up in front of them.
"Get in, sleepyheads," said the driver. Without hesitation, they got in. It was Vincent, the boss's right-hand man. If there was one person loyal to the Bl**d Reign, it was Vincent.
Dre and Ethan had only been part of the gang for a year. It was founded by a man named Salvatore La Rosa, known as "The Enforcer." He was a man in his late fifties, with an imposing presence, a withered face lined from years of experience, and eyes that carried nothing but coldness. Salvatore was ruthless but valued loyalty above all else.
The old man always wore designer suits, his silver hair slicked back. His rule was simple: serve the Bl**d Reign for a period, then undertake a big mission—a mission that could elevate your status if you survived. That's how Vincent gained his freedom and now handled one of the biggest projects in the city, counting millions thanks to the gang.
For some reason, Vincent believed Dre and Ethan had the potential to rise even higher. According to him, Salvatore had his eyes on them.
"Enforcer," Dre called, and Ethan stood at the opposite end, hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans.
"Dre Nixon, Ethan Pierce," Salvatore called, throwing files on the table. Dre raised his eyebrows in curiosity, but Ethan was speechless.
He stared at the print on his envelope: "Blackwood Academy."
"You're sending me to college?" Ethan asked in shock.
Dre looked surprised. He was heading to a military school and rubbed his face in disbelief. He didn't understand the twisted mind game Salvatore was playing, but something told him it was going to be brutal.
"Yes, I'm sending both of you to school. But it's a big package. Your sister's medical bills will be taken care of, and a few months into the program, I'll send you your first millions—enough to change the life you desperately want to change," he commented.
"Why does this feel like a deal with the devil? I didn't say I want to go to college," Ethan said, smirking.
"What if you are?" Salvatore asked, standing up from his chair.
"I can't be away from my family for long," Ethan replied. Salvatore stepped closer.
"You don't have to. You're both going to the school as sons of Salvatore Morano. The details of your mission are in those documents. Give my regards to Lilian. And yes, the car will pick you up first thing tomorrow morning—be presentable," Salvatore ordered. Ethan said nothing; after all, they weren't allowed to.
⸻
BLACKWOOD
Marlene looked out of her Ferrari, trying to think of ways to burn time. She was certain the school bloggers would make this week all about her. It was days like this she hated being a Blackwood.
"Are you ready to come out now, Lady Blackwood? Or should I drive you back home?" the driver asked.
"What? No! Dad would have my head if I did that," she replied, rubbing her face and taking a deep breath before stepping out after the driver opened her door. Men in suits flanked her as they walked her to class. Marlene hated the attention that came with being Mr. Blackwood's daughter.
The reputation of her siblings didn't help matters. Flashes of cameras went off, and Marlene kept a straight face as they walked.
"You look like you want to throw up, Marlene," Ruby said, raising her eyebrows.
"What if I tell you I really do want to throw up? People have had their eyes on me since I stepped out of the car, and I can't even blame them. My dad has eight bodyguards escorting me through the doors of Blackwood Academy—I feel like drowning," Marlene muttered, her voice breaking at the edge.
"Darling…my love, I missed you. I've been trying to call you, but you wouldn't pick up," Sean Becket said dramatically, holding a bouquet of roses. Marlene gave him a stoic look, unmoved by his fake sweetness.
"Babe…" he called again as students raised their phones to record videos.
"I'm not your babe, Sean! You should have thought of that before turning your reputation into that of a p*rn star," Marlene snapped. The hall went completely silent.