Saints of the Syndicate by Natalie Nicole

Chapter 35

Declan

 

As Sin, G, and I walk in the doors of our building here on campus after an exhausting day dealing with our fathers for our ‘Christmas’ celebration, an unsettling thought runs through me.

"You guys heard from Bethani at all?"

Our fathers dragged today out like no other. We got to my family estate at 8 am dressed in Armani suits ready for breakfast. Then we all sat at the formal dining table for three fucking hours talking about current events with our grandparents and fathers. My mother was on another of her ‘wellness trips’ but sent me her regards. Then we had a ‘pre-lunch snack’ before spending two hours in the ‘family room’ to open gifts. After that was lunch, again in the formal dining room, before we were all finally released from the fresh hell at 4 pm.

The whole day was a bunch of fake cheeriness that has had me on edge since the moment we walked through the doors.

We never heard a negative remark about the gala. There were no glasses being thrown at us. No violent threats to our lives. Not. A. Fucking. Thing.

We hit the elevator as Gio pushes the 'up' button and looks at his phone.

"Haven't heard anything from her yet. Her phone is showing its upstairs..." his voice drifts off, making my gut fucking churn with unease.

"What the fuck is going on Giovanni?" Sinclair demands as we go inside, and I violently smash the 'penthouse' button like it's going to fucking change the fucking speed of this slow-ass elevator.

Giovanni looks up as we are about a third of the way up, face grim as shit. "Her phone hasn't moved from the end table by the bed since this morning. Not a fucking inch."

Ice runs through my veins as I lean back against the wall.

Sinclair's fist slams into the wall beside me. "Cameras, Gio. Check. The. Cameras. If this is a sick fucking joke she is playing, so fucking help me her ass is gonna be sore for the next week."

The elevator stops with a ding, and we all jump, clearly zoned the fuck out as we try to figure this shit out. All three of us grab our guns and have them ready to shoot as the doors open torturously slow. When we step out into the foyer area, nothing looks amiss as we make our way slowly down the small hall that opens up to the living room and kitchen area. As we step fully into it, my hands fall to the sides, and I almost drop my gun trying to process the chaos in front of me.

Our house is absolutely and utterly obliterated. All the throw pillows on the couch are demolished; feathers, stuffing, what-the-fuck-ever you want to call the shit, is strewn as far as I can see. The sectional has slashes throughout it and is covered in...paint? Fuck if I even know. The TV has a golf club hanging out of it. The gaming systems had a baseball bat taken to them along with the shelving units the games and DVDs were all on. Pieces of it are thrown everywhere amongst the wreckage. Coffee and end tables are torn to fucking hell.

As I turn to the kitchen, it looks even worse. Every single food item is opened and thrown all over. And I mean...Every. Single. Fucking. Item. It looks like a fucking horror movie the way shit is just thrown all over the cabinets, walls, ceiling, floor, and even the appliances. Some of the cabinet doors are ripped off. Fuck, someone dismantled the fridge, freezer, and stove and turned them into a junkyard’s finest pieces of shit.

We spent all day yesterday cleaning this fucking place from top to bottom after one of the best nights of sleep. While it sucked cleaning up Christmas chaos, Bethani made it a blast. I’ve never laughed so much in my damn life. Then after everything was done, we finally made our way to bed and fucked our girl into a coma. Sinclair demanded we ‘christen the bed’, and we all happily obliged. Then we all took a shower, where Bethani took the time to suck us off individually. She deep-dicked us like champs. Then we got her to the bed, and ate her out like she was our final meal. After that, we all took turns fucking our girl in as many positions as we could before blowing our loads in her and filling her sweet pussy until she was literally dripping with our cum. It was some of the hottest shit I’ve ever seen.

I don't even want to think about the rest of the house. I literally can't fathom it. I'm ready to murder someone with my bare hands as the infuriation sets in. "What. The. Fuck!" I scream damn near at the top of my lungs as panic starts setting in. "Bethani, where the fuck are you!"

My outburst has finally brought the other two out of their daze over the fucking shit storm that is our house, and they start moving. Giovanni goes towards the one end of the house where our service elevator is, and Sinclair heads towards the bedrooms as they yell for Bethani also. Me? I'm just fucking stuck. I can't get my mind to get my body to process the concept of moving. It's on a fucking exotic fuck fest vacation while I stand here like a useless dumb ass.

Giovanni comes back from the one hallway, sees me still stuck like a jolly dumb shit giant, walks up, and smacks me across the face. Hard. I shake my head for a second as the impact from his hand brings my shit back together.

"Thanks," I mumble.

He shrugs like a smart ass. "Figured you were in shock. Come on. Let's go see why Sinclair hasn't said shit."

We reach the first bedroom, mine, and I cautiously open the door with Giovanni right behind me. My room is untouched. Not a damn thing out of place from a glance. I'm fucking puzzled. Looking back at G, he is equally stumped.

"Let's check your room, dude."

It’s the same process when we reach his room, only the roles are reversed. His room is completely untouched also. Almost as if the vandalism started in the main area, but something interrupted the process. My eyes go wide, as does Gio's as we put two and two together.

Bethani.

Instead of words, we turn and run straight to the end of the hall where Sinclair's room, really it’s all of ours now, is and we bust open the doors the rest of the way. Sinclair is just staring at the bed, unmoving, almost sentry-like while holding something in his hand.

"Sinclair? Where's Bethani?" I ask.

He turns towards us and his expression rocks me. His eyes are bloodshot, a cold dead lifeless look in them, and he has tears streaming down his face. His hair is completely fucked from his hand running through it. I'm so focused on his facial features and the distress they show, I almost miss the one word he utters just above a whisper, "Gone."

"What in the fresh hell are you talking about? Gone? Where? Why?" I'm rambling. Demanding. That one word scrambling any coherent thoughts.

He doesn't say anything, just holds out his hand with the letter towards us. Giovanni steps forward to grab it. Then he starts reading. Reading words that slice through every fiber of my being. Destroying me. Slicing my stomach open to gut myself would be more pleasurable than the broken words coming out of Giovanni's mouth.

"You think you have all the power? The mighty Saints of the Syndicate. Never to be broken. Never to be tarnished. Well...how do you feel now? Your precious little whore is gone. Find her? You will not. You took what was rightfully mine and I have reclaimed possession. You have tainted her and she must repent for her sins. Punished for her harlot ways. Broken until I decide to piece her back together. She will never remember you three. Ever. And if she does, I will end her. So I ask again...how do the powerful Princes of the Trident Syndicate feel now? Knowing you will never see the orphan tramp again?" He pauses, taking a shaking breath, and I don't even want to know what's going to be said next. "But before I end this, I'll give you one last view of the dirty slut. Pull back the cover to know what's to come for her. I win. You lose. Ante Mortem Infidelitatis, gentlemen."

I’m just standing there. That's the only thing we can do. Gone? Fucking gone? The fucking love of my god damn life is gone?

What a shitty mother fucking time to come to that realization, brain and heart. Filthy fucking traitors.

I never told her I loved her.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkkkkk.

I slowly lift my head. My bullshit, un-feeling, body has tears running freely down my face.The guys are in a similar state as myself. We are all hitting the same sick and twisted thoughts together.

We are all in fucking mad, unfathomable, wreck-less, pure as sunshine and unicorn glitter bullshit love with our mouthy, sweet, personal superwoman, BethaniLarie Reece.

And she is fuckinggone.

I slowly make my way to the bed. For the first time in my life, I'm terrified. Truly terrified of what I am going to find. Closing my eyes, I grab the cover. I take in a deep breath, and as I'm exhaling, I rip the cover from the bed while slowly opening my eyes.

One Polaroid picture sits in the middle in her spot. I can feel the guys beside me as we all steady ourselves for the potential horror we are going to endure.

As we look at it, we are all sharing equally unsure looks. She is walking out of a building, but what building? I haven't a mother fucking flying donkey cock of a guess. The haunted look in her eyes brings more bullshit tears to my eyes as Giovanni's phone dings and dings.

"Will you get that already?" Sinclair barks.

I'm still looking at the picture of our other worldly gorgeous girl when Giovanni starts cursing. "We've got a fucking problem guys. A major fucking problem."

As our heads snap to him, he shows us his phone and we read the message from our PI guy.

"Oh fuck," I say.

"Oh fuck is right," Gio echoes.

Another ding comes from his phone as an app pops up with a reminder.

I go to tap it, bringing up the app full screen to read the notification when the sickest of all dreads known to man assaults me. A lead fucking weight drops into my stomach as I glance between the picture and Giovanni's phone.

Oh...shit.

I drop the photo and head to the bathroom as my body revolts against the fucking world, and I retch up the contents of my stomach.

When I finally finish exercising the demons, I glance up to see them at the door as I flush the toilet. The same soul crushing realization is wrecking them too. I steel myself for the words that need to come out. The words that are going to change everything from here on out. 

"I don't fucking care. I repeat, I do not fucking care what we have to give up here. What we have to sacrifice. What alliances need to be made with whatever devils they are. We will get her fucking back. And we are going to mother fucking destroy anyone and everyone that gets in our fucking way in the process." I stand as my body shuts down, retreating to the vindictive, ruthless, death dealing, dead-heart bastard I was before Bethani turned my universe around on its axis.

I crack my neck as I'm adjusting my suit back into position, welcoming the deathly venom of darkness that lurks in my veins back to life.

I smirk at the guys as we settle back into our old ways. 

"Let's show them what kind of Saints we really are boys. Ten minutes. Pack some bags boys. We know where we need to fucking go."

They both nod, then turn off into their respective directions as I stalk out towards my room.

It'sshow time mother fuckers.

They wanted the Saints of the Syndicate, the devils of Blackwell University on their knees?

Not. Fucking. Happening.

Continue reading in book 2: Revenge of the Syndicate