CHAPTER 46: LOYALTIES AND DOUBTS

Chapter 46

JACE MARINO

The room was quiet after the call ended. I could still hear my father’s voice echoing in my head, the same calm tone that always carried the weight of a threat underneath. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. He said enough with just one sentence.

"Come home. All of you."

He hung up after that, leaving the silence to do the rest.

Marco was pacing near the window, arms folded tight. Mateo sat on the couch, his hand pressed against his jaw like he was holding in every word he wanted to throw at me. The lamp between us flickered buzzing low. The air felt heavy.

"He’s not going to stop digging," Marco finally said. His voice came out rough, like he’d been swallowing glass. "He already knows something’s off. We haven’t slept at home for two weeks now. You think he’s just going to sit back and let it go?"

"Let him dig," Mateo said. He leaned back and crossed his legs. "We’ve covered for worse."

Marco turned sharply. "Not like this. He’s onto that innocent boy. He’s not saying it out loud yet, but he knows. That’s why he’s keeping you in check with that footage bullshit."

I rubbed my hands over my face and leaned forward, elbows on my knees. I could feel both of them looking at me, waiting for me to say something. Anything.

"He dare not touch him," I said quietly. "And I have men watching him. He’s safe."

Marco laughed, but it wasn’t a nice sound. "Safe? You think that word even means anything anymore? He’s disrupting father’s business. The old man doesn’t take that, that’s why he labeled him as a variable that needs to be put out. And you think if he finds out that you sent a ring to the guy you’re screwing who’s connected to nothing but bad press and the police, he’s just gonna forgive and forget?"

Mateo shot him a look. "Watch your mouth."

"What? I’m telling the truth." Marco threw his hands out. "We’ve been covering his tracks since the day this whole thing started, and now we’re deeper than ever. Dad’s starting to suspect us too."

I didn’t argue. He was right.

The guilt sat like a stone in my stomach. My brothers didn’t sign up for this part. They were supposed to have their own lives, their own paths. Instead, they were stuck here, protecting me and Julian from the same man who raised us.

"He told us to come home," Mateo said after a pause. His tone was steady, but I could see the tension in his jaw. "And he meant it. You know what happens if we don’t."

"I’m not going back," I said." I will answer to him from here"

Marco turned toward me again, his eyes hard. "You think you get to decide that?"

"Yes." But I’m not one hundred percent certain.

The word came out before I even thought about it. Maybe it was stupid, but I was tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of running. Tired of the way everything we touched turned to chaos.

Mateo stood up slowly. "Then what’s your plan? You stay here, keep playing house with your secrets while he burns everything down looking for you?"

"I’m working on it."

"Working on it?" Marco repeated, stepping closer. "That’s all you’ve been saying. You can’t fight him, big brother. Not like this."

I stood too. "You think I don’t know that?"

We stared at each other. For a second, I thought he might actually hit me. Which I think I deserve . Instead, he turned away, hands in his hair. "You don’t get it," he muttered. "You’re not the only one he’ll destroy."

I stayed quiet. There wasn’t anything I could say to make it better.

Mateo sighed, breaking the tension. "Enough. Both of you." He looked at me. "You said you were working on something. What does that mean?"

I hesitated. Then I told them.

About the safe houses. The backups. The money I’d been moving quietly through channels our father didn’t know existed. About the contacts I’d reactivated, the people who owed me favors, the new routes I was setting up. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

Marco was the first to react. "You’ve been planning to cut him off."

"Yes."

He nodded slowly, like it finally made sense. "That’s why he’s losing it. He feels it."

"Let him," I said. "He can feel it all he wants. As long as what’s mine stays safe."

Mateo studied me. "And what about us?"

I looked at both of them. "You can walk away if you want. I won’t blame you."

Marco scoffed. "Don’t start with that bullshit. You know we’re not leaving."

Mateo nodded. "You’re stuck with us, whether you like it or not."

For a moment, the weight lifted just a little. Then Marco said quietly, "You know this doesn’t end well, right?"

I met his eyes. "I know."

We didn’t talk much after that. The night stretched long and heavy. Mateo disappeared into one of the bedrooms, probably pretending to sleep. Marco stayed up with me, both of us sitting near the window with the blinds half open. The moon lights bled in through the cracks.

"Do you think he knows where we are?" Marco asked.

"I don’t think so," I said. "But he will, eventually."

"Then what?"

I looked out the window. "Then we move again." "He doesn’t get a chance to know where we feel free. He only gets the chance to talk to us, set up meetings and carry out one of his absurd orders."

He didn’t argue. He just nodded. We’d done this before. Pack up and change location. It was becoming too normal.

"You called him yet?"I didn’t have to ask to know who he’s talking about.

"Yes"

"What the hell were you even thinking when you sent him that ring?"

"I don’t know" and that’s the truth, but damnit I’m I smiling like a creep"

He sighs.

"I just want all of this to blow away but by tomorrow we’ll be facing another problem that we don’t even know about."

I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know what to say to that. Because it was true. Chaos is basically our second name.

Around three in the morning, he finally went to bed. I stayed where I was, staring at the faint outline of the skyline. My mind kept drifting to Julian’s laugh, his voice when he called me by name, the small way he tilted his head when he was thinking too hard. It hurts to think about him, but not thinking about him hurts more.

At some point, I must’ve fallen asleep.

The dream came like it always did. Soft at first, then sharp.

I was standing in the old house, the one we grew up in before the money and the guards and the power. The air smelled like laundry soap and lemon polish. I heard footsteps in the hall and turned.

It was her.

My mother stood there, wearing the same cream sweater she always used to wear. Her hair was tied back loosely, and her hands were folded in front of her. She smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes.

"Jace," she said softly.

"Mom."

I tried to step forward, but my legs wouldn’t move. The floor felt like it was glued to my feet.

"You can’t save them both," she said.

My throat tightened. "What do you mean?"

She just looked at me, her expression calm, almost kind. "You already know."

"No. I don’t—"

She came closer, reaching out like she used to when I was a kid. Her fingers brushed the side of my face. "One will destroy the other. You can’t save them both."

Her voice was gentle, but it hit like a knife.

"Who?" I asked. "Who are you talking about?"

But she was already fading, her form breaking apart like smoke.

"Mom, wait—"

I jolted awake, breathing hard. The clock said 4:57 AM. Sweat clung to the back of my neck, and my chest felt tight.

I sat there for a while, trying to calm down. The dream wasn’t new, but the words were. You can’t save them both.

I didn’t know if she meant Julian and my father, or Julian and my brothers, or something worse. But either way, she was right about one thing. I was running out of time.

When the first light of morning started to show, I went to the kitchen. Mateo was already there, pouring coffee like he hadn’t slept either. He looked at me once, then back at his cup.

"Bad night?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah."

He didn’t ask for details. He didn’t need to.

"Dad texted again," Mateo said after a moment. "He said if we don’t come back by tomorrow, he’s sending people."

"Let him send them." "I’m important to him, he won’t do shit."

Mateo gave me a long look. "You really think you can win this?"

"I’m not trying to win," I said quietly. "I’m just trying to survive it."

He didn’t answer. He just handed me a cup of coffee, and we stood there in silence.

For now, that was enough.