Page 1 of Savage Empire
Chapter One
Apollo
There has never been a Moretti wedding where I didn’t need to solve some sort of crisis. As the eldest of nine sons, three of whom are married, I’ve become an expert at discretely handling conflict for sacred events.
At Leon’s wedding, the Priest showed up drunk. He was mindlessly slurring his words as I had him dealt with and replaced. My brother and his wifestilldon’t know that it happened. They’ve been married for years, now sharing two kids together.
At Emilio’s wedding, I killed two guards who were attempting to peek in on his bride in her suite while she dressed. I did so without spilling a drop of blood, or alerting a single soul. They share two children now as well, but unlike Leon and his wife Cleo, they also share a bond built from mutual love and admiration. They’re a classic example that not all arranged marriages are doomed.
Born right after me and Leon, our brother Cassio has been wed twice, each time requiring my assistance. For the firstwedding, there was a thunderstorm the night before that led to three windows in the church breaking wide open. I had them all replaced and every drop of rain cleaned up before my brother even arrived on sight. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do to keep his wife and infant from perishing in childbirth five years later.
At his second wedding, I stood in as officiant. I performed the Moretti Blood Marriage ritual, and though it wasn’t a crisis per se, the entire event was thrown together in a matter of days. I can count on one hand the amount of hours I slept in the days leading up to his ceremony. Keeping his new bride safe, and making sure he was in the right state of mind, was a full time job in and of itself.
Given my family’s less than stellar history surrounding weddings, I’ve been waiting for something to go wrong all evening. Jade, my little sister, has just married her husband—yes, her husband—hours ago. Dmitri Morozov has been her husband through contract for over a year now. I signed the papers myself following their unexpected pregnancy. Because of my sister’s condition, the pair chose to wait to share a proper ceremony until their twins could be a more present part of it.
And so far, nothing has gone wrong. I almost expected there to be a shoot out moments ago, when my youngestdumbasslittle brother approached Dmitri’s little sister. The eighteen-year-old was flanked by both her uncles, and her Pakhan father as Matteo strolled right up to their table. Apparently, his charm and ridiculous idea to handcuff himself in order to dance with the girl worked. Matteo has a way with people that both irks and impresses me. I, of course, would never admit to the latter.
Anya Morozov was the victim of one of the most heinous crimes three years ago. She was only fifteen when a group of men, led and instructed by her own mother, tore her apart from the inside out. According to everything I’ve heard, the onceelusive and talented ballerina hasn’t danced, nor left her house, since. That is, until tonight.
She’s also known to be averse to male attention and touch, hence my brother’s brilliant idea to shackle himself in her pretense. Whether it was his charm, or the fact that she’s surrounded with enough family to make her feel safe, the girl seemed excited to share an unconventional dance with Matteo. Though his plan hasn’t backfired and he’s slowly beginning to dance with the Russian princess, I’m not convinced something else isn’t going to go terribly wrong soon.
I almost expected this wedding in particular to have themostissues arise. It’s the furthest event we’ve held from our home—from the safety of our territory. Jade insisted on being wed in the place where she fell in love, and of course, our father couldn’t deny her. The secluded island we currently occupy is home to Empire Academy, the premium college for mafias, syndicates, gangs, and criminal organizations alike to send their new generations. Nearly everyone in attendance tonight is familiar with the island, having graduated from the program themselves.
Jade and Dmitri decided to hold their celebration in the ruins section of this sacred ground. The area is surrounded by hundred year old trees and crumbling historic buildings. Empire Academy is meant to be a safe place, the grounds and school coming with a set of laws to ensure it remains as such. Even so, I don’t put my faith in the laws of men. Deterrents are meant to discourage, but there’s no such thing as preventing criminals from being criminals. Not entirely.
Given the celebrations have about an hour left, I’m tempted to believe no issues will arise. But the thought comes too soon, as a prickling awareness creeps up the back of my neck. Unwelcomed sound sprinkles into the air, and I’m immediately on alert. My shoulders straighten and my senses switch into a hyper-focused state.
The sound of a struggle is faint but nearby. All of my family is currently within my line of sight, reassuring me that whatever conflict is occurring doesn’t involve any of those I care for most. I could ignore my ears twitching and my heckles rising. I could disregard my suspicions and my gut feeling that something is going terribly wrong.
I could…but I won’t.
Turning my gaze from the reception, I slowly move away from the area, scanning every sight carefully as I go. It’s subtle, but as my feet leave the mossy grass and dip into the black sand of Empire Academy’s beach, I hear the distinct sound of a confrontation.
I’m not the only one who hears it; my brother Cassio is hot on my heels, following me in the same direction. The further our stride takes us from the wedding, the more unmistakable the sound of yelling becomes.
We don’t need to say a word to each other to act, both of our steps picking up pace. When the situation comes into sight, fury bubbles up in my chest, a hot blaze of rage that burns the back of my throat.
One of the caterers, a woman working for The Casa Nostra family, is struggling to maneuver around a large teenage boy while a grown man crowds the pair of them, shouting and shoving the boy backwards.
The Casa Nostra is an Italian syndicate, known for being particularly ruthless due to their current Capo and his son, Abramo. Our alliance with them was forged when Emilio married Melani, a daughter to one of the group’s most well-known Underbosses.
Their catering company is a business they run, employing younger men and women in their territory to work events for other mafias. They aren’t civilians, and therefore, won’t report any illegal activities they may catch sight of while working.
None of that explains why this unacceptable behavior is happening only yards away from my little sister’s reception. Why any man would be dumb enough to attack a woman near the Moretti famiglia is beyond me.
“I swear to God, Federico, don’t you put your hands on him,” the woman threatens, voice raspy as she struggles to get between them. Her long dark hair has sections of bright blonde weaved in, the waves mixing colors and swaying harshly as she fights to break the men up without harming the teenager in the process.
“You can hit me all you want, but if you touch my little brother even once, I will poison you in your sleep! Wives get away with that kind of thing all the time, and I won’t be the exception.”
He’s hit her before.
It’s alarmingly clear by the way she offers herself to be abused so casually. A part of me is impressed by her desire to protect her sibling, the other part of me is simply pissed off and disgusted. Casa Nostra property or not, she’s at a Moretti event, and that means she falls under our protection.
I don’t stop to listen for a second longer, meeting the confrontation in three large strides. My arm cocks back and snaps forward, my fist cracking against the side of thatstronzoFederico’s face. He drops like a corpse, body collapsing into the black sand. Ocean waves crash into the beach mere feet away from us, a sound that should be relaxing but only fuels the furious blood rushing through my veins.
A primal desire to inflict as much pain as I can calls to me, the kind of bloodlust I’d typically attribute to my brother Nico.
“Piece of shit,” I curse, swiftly kicking him in the ribs.
