Prologue
I am a black sheep. I refuse to exist when I can live. I refuse to follow when I can lead. I will seek and embrace my true purpose. I will live life on my own terms. I will leave footprints that change the world. And fingerprints that change history.
~ Amanda Louise
Crina
Christmas Day . . .
“What is wrong with you, Crina?” My eldest half-brother, Mircea, snarls at me from across the table while my mother weeps dramatically. Father simply runs his hand across his face, as he always does when he’s displeased with me.
I can’t believe he has the audacity to ask me this question. Sorin, my other half-brother, glares at Mircea in disgust. “I’m not a piece of meat to be sold to the highest bidder, unlike what you think.” I shift my focus to my father, to the man my mother had the stupidity to sleep with— her boss.
“You are a Romanian woman of a high bloodline. Mircea will be inducted into the Clans very shortly and you don’t wish to maximize on where our family is headed?” Father speaks, though it’s more like a question.
I inhale sharply, trying not to lose it. Whenever I do, it only upsets my mother. And even though she’s made poor choices in the past, I do love her. Hell, I even love my brothers. I’d say I love my father, but that would be a stretch. He’s only ever viewed me as less than. He’s a product of the man who raised him, ensuring him the world would always be a man’s world. I bet my dear grandfather never expected women to unite together and get pissed about things like equal pay, being treated fairly, and the plethora of other things we’re realizing in this day and age.
“You have never once given a damn about me. I’m sorry, brothers, but you’ve never given a damn about me in the way you do for Sorin and Mircea. I’m not jealous in the least bit, so don’t even attempt to spin it that way.”
“Things are changing, Crina.” My father tells me with a growl.
“I want no part in the change coming to our family. Don’t you see?” He only wishes to put a collar around my neck and hand my leash to a prominent Romanian man so I can do something positive in his eyes. So, I won’t simply be the product of his affair. I’ve been the black sheep my entire life and I’ll never be anything less than that.
I rise from the plush cushioned dining room chair and stare into his callous eyes. “What is it you’re doing, Crina?” He questions, still with the same frustration he’s had from a few moments before.
“Weren’t you listening? I said I wanted no part of this.” I state, pushing the chair under the table.
“Crina, please don’t leave . . . your—” my mother begs of me.
“If you leave today, you’d best not ever come back to this table again.” My father sneers, balling his fists.
As if it would even matter. “You’ve only just invited me here.” I walk over in the direction of the foyer when the sound of glass breaking against the ground causes me to stop right in my tracks.
“Crina, I mean it. If you walk out of that door, I will never welcome you back into this family.” He goes on with his threats.
Turning around, I look to my dysfunctional family. Mircea seems just as furious as our father does, while Sorin seems plagued by the events that’re going down. “I’m not a cow you can sell off to another rancher for him to brand and use me as he wants. Things might’ve been done that way hundreds of years ago, but now there’s something called consent, and I sure as hell don’t give it to you.”
“You are dead to me.” He grumbles.
I can’t help but allow what he’s said to hit me right in the heart, and the only way I know to hurt him, is to hurt the only person he’s ever given a damn about. My mother. “I don’t know how you ever fell for such a vile man.” It’s the last thing I say before I head to the front door. One of my father’s household staff members already has my duster coat and purse. As my purse is being given to me, heated footsteps come in heavily behind me.
I slide my hand into my purse to get my keys and just as I’m pulling them out, they’re ripped from my hands. My father glares at me with flaring nostrils in what must be his ten-thousand-dollar suit. “This is mine,” he dangles my keys in front of my face.
“Oh, really? I thought you gave me the BMW for my birthday.”
“I own it. My name is on the car.” He completely ignores what I’ve said.
I see what he’s doing here. “Okay.” Digging into my purse, I take out my wallet and pull the black cards that’re connected to the family accounts, and anything that might have something to do with money he’s given me. I throw them all on the floor. “You’re trying to intimidate me into doing what you want? Fuck that and fuck you.”
Before my very eyes he rips his hand back and starts to bring it toward me when Sorin comes in the middle and shoves him back a few feet. If it weren’t for him, our father would’ve struck me. “I think I’ve had enough of our typical melodramatic Christmas.” He states, glaring in the direction of our father.
Though, Mircea . . . he’s probably sitting at the table like the prodigal son he always is.
“C’mon, you need a ride?”
“Yes, please.” I state lowly.
“No problem.” Sorin replies, wrapping his arm around my waist he walks me out of our father’s Las Vegas mansion.
We’re to his car and speeding out of the driveway in no time. “Thank you,” I mutter to Sorin, slinking down in the seat beside him.
“You don’t need to thank me for anything. Dad’s a dick. I think we’re all aware of that fact.”
“Everyone except Mircea.” I point out.
“Yeah, well, Mircea has more on the line than any of us.”
“Why do you always make excuses for him?” I question, watching as Sorin’s dark chocolate eyes land on mine.
“I’m not excusing his behavior, Crina. I’m only saying things are different for all of us. I’m your frate. It’s my job to defend you both.” He speaks in Roman-lish again, which is my personal slang for Romanian-English. If it weren’t for Sorin, I wouldn’t know a bit of it. Our father never had the patience to explain things to me. “You going to stay with me tonight, considering father has probably disabled your keycodes?”
Shit. I didn’t even think of it. “Yeah.”
“I have an extra room, so you can stay as long as you need.”
I appreciate his offer, but I won’t put him out. Sorin is going to die a bachelor and I know it. He has quite the reputation around Las Vegas for throwing the best parties. With his condo overlooking the Strip, he’s in the prime location.
“Just give me a couple of days. I’ll sort something out. Okay?” I only have one option, or one that is realistic at least.
“What’re you going to do, Crina?” Sorin knows me better than anyone else.
“Whatever I need to. I’m not going to live off his money or look to you. I’ll sort this out, okay? I know people.”
He grips the steering wheel a bit harder. “I don’t like the way you said that.”