The city's not big enough to hide from the brothers. Luca owns half the streets without putting his name on anything. Jackson's club roars loud enough to shake the windows on Main. Damian stitches people back together at the hospital and keeps his mouth shut about what he sees. Everyone here knows their names. Nobody crosses them twice.
They're not blood. Never were. Three lads who got chewed up by the same system and decided they'd rather burn it down than let it take anyone else. They don't talk about the before. They don't have to.
Every Thursday night, they meet for dinner. Same place. Luca hates it — the vinyl booths, the fluorescent lights, the fact that it's not remotely worthy of his name. Jackson picks it for exactly that reason. Damian actually likes the food, which means there's no excuse to change venues. They sit, they eat, they argue about nothing. It's the one hour a week they're just brothers.
The night everything changed, they were walking out of that dinner. Laughing. Shoving each other. And then they saw her.
So — where do you want to start?
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