Page 8 of Light in Your Eyes (Romero Brothers #1)

"You and your friends might think that using our leaders' names—Cole, or even Jaxon—would save you and make it less suspicious. But..." She tsks. "You're fucking wrong. If you don't understand how things work here, you'll be in big trouble."

"No, it won't be just trouble,” Gio says to me. “It will cost your life. The people here won't hesitate to put a bullet in your head, and it will be the most generous way to end your life here besides the other things we can do to you."

My mouth drops open. I don't want to believe them, but the things I saw and experienced today—especially my conversation with Cole and what happened with the guards outside—make me think that they’re not lying.

"Tell me, how much will your friends pay you for getting out of here alive?" Her face draws closer, causing me to be cornered against the wall under the stairs. "How much are they willing to pay for you to sneak into the home of Black Wings?"

I almost freeze like a statue.

What did she just say? The Black Wings?

Still hearing nothing from me, she squints.

I can only say the truth. "I'm not here because of a bet or a dare."

She rolls her eyes.

"Are you saying that you are one of us?" Gio asks, but his tone doesn't sound genuine. It sounds like he's testing me.

"I don't know if being hired by your leader will make me one," I say. "Honestly, I don't care about that. I just want to see Kel—"

"Show me your tattoo," Brea interrupts .

I stare at her cluelessly. "My what?"

"Your tattoo," Gio repeats, sounding annoyed. "Your identity. It will confirm that you are indeed one of us. Here, the tattoo is proof that you're a part of Black Wings."

Of course, I don't have that. I never plan to be a part of Black Wings or whatever gang it is.

"Like this." Brea shows me a tattoo on her upper arm. It's a pair of black wings, but unlike Cole's tattoo, which has red streaks on the feathers, this one has none. "Show me yours."

I'm at a loss for words. How can I show her if I don't even have a tattoo?

"You can't be serious,” she mutters. “You couldn't just sneak here without even preparing your tattoo."

Gio snorts. "Even if she did, we would notice that it's fake, so it doesn't matter."

Brea nods, agreeing with her boyfriend.

Gio chuckles. "Your lies have been caught, Layla."

Their accusation makes me feel offended. "I'm not lying. I didn't say that I was one of you. I'm not interested in joining your gang, Black Wings, or whatever it is. I'm here because I was hired by Jaxon Romero. Cole brought me here—"

"Whoa." Brea raises her hands, staring at me in utter disbelief. "You're going too far right there."

"I don't have time to deal with people who don't even want to believe me," I say firmly. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"

"Wait." Gio grabs my arm before I can escape. He looks slightly angry. "What you were trying to say didn't make fucking sense. We were about to let you slip without harm, but now you're being feisty and thinking about leaving just like that?" The threat in his voice makes me shudder.

"Easy, babe. You're scaring her," Brea whispers to him, giving him a sweet smile.

"She's doing her best to survive. I like that spirit in her.

Who knows? We might convince Fenrir to make her one of us.

She might be useful." She turns her head toward me.

"Now, where were we? You said that you were hired by Jaxon. "

The three of us turn silent. I'm waiting for her to say more, trying to block the noise from the party.

I hate parties.

But then, Brea laughs boisterously. Gio chuckles again, shaking his head. "You can do better, little liar."

"I'm not lying," I say, raising my tone.

"That's impossible," Brea says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Jaxon couldn't have hired you. If he had, you would have had your Black Wings tattoo with red streaks on it.

There are only three people in this fucking world who have it.

So far, you have none." She pauses, raising her eyebrows. "Unless you can show me."

"Dream on." Gio smirks. "That's why little liars like you never survive this place. They always come here with zero clues about how things work here."

"I'm a caregiver—"

"Your lies have been exposed, Layla." Brea corners me again, and my back is pushed against the wall. "Did you actually think that it would make sense to create that kind of story so that you could step into this place?" She then urges her boyfriend, "Show her yours, babe."

Gio flips his left arm, showing me a tattoo of black wings on the inside of his upper arm .

"This is mine," he says. "My identity. You can't be here without it. The punishment is death. You can't fake it either. Same punishment—death. I wonder how the fuck you could pass the guards outside. I'll make a note to tell Fenrir about that. The guys have been pretty lazy nowadays."

I don't have any idea about this man named Fenrir. It seems like he's one of their leaders.

Now that I'm staring closely at Gio's tattoo, it indeed has the same effect as the one I saw on Cole's wrist. It's hypnotizing. The tattoo is very detailed and well-crafted, it makes me feel like I'm seeing the real thing—a pair of black wings.

Panic starts to build up inside me. Cole didn't tell me anything about the tattoo. He only warned me to stay close to Kellan so that everything would be alright.

What am I supposed to do?

"The black wings tattoo is the identity for all the regular members," Brea says matter-of-factly. "You just stepped into our base. Not only you didn't have your identity, but you were trying to fool us with some ridiculous made-up story."

Gio steps toward me, and his voice is filled with thrill and excitement when he says, "Now, the question is..." he pauses, eyeing me with interest. "What should we do with an intruder like you?"

I brace myself, straightening up. "Just bring me to Kel—"

Before I can finish my sentence, a loud voice echoes in the air.

"Boxing ring! Now! "

Then it all happens so fast. Someone shouts from upstairs. The music abruptly stops. Whispers of excitement fill the air. Footsteps pound on the ground. People are suddenly rushing in the same direction.

I can only watch what's happening around me in shock.

Now what?

I snap my head around while some people bump into me. While I'm trying to make my way out through the people, a guy collides with me. I can't help but ask, "What's happening?"

"Kellan is challenging the fighters in a duel, and you don't want to miss it." He glances back at me just for a second before rushing to the basement where everyone is heading.

So, Kellan is fighting in the basement.

With that thought in mind, I bring my legs toward where everyone is going. I push myself through the crowd, following the people who are way too excited to see what's about to happen.

When I finally arrive, I manage to secure a nice spot, just a few steps away from the ring—thanks to my petite figure slipping easily between these bodies of strangers.

The moment my eyes are glued to the person standing on the ring, my heart skips a beat.

There, standing in the middle of it, is Kellan Romero. His chest heaves up and down, as though he just finished running even though the fight hasn't even begun.

He's taller than I expected, so tall. His hair is dark and messy, almost jet black. And his eyes... My God , his eyes... they're the most captivating eyes I've ever seen. They are intense gray—misty and hold so much mystery .

He looks more masculine than I thought. His defined muscles look intimidating but also beautiful, like a piece of art —does that even make sense?

He's angry—I can see it from his expression—but there's also something else. Sadness? Grief? Pain?

He's very expressive, I almost can feel his emotions myself. Am I the only one who notice it? I don't know, but I can't take my eyes off him.

When Kellan turns the other way, I see the massive black wings tattooed all over his shoulders and back.

The tattoo is nothing compared to the other black wings tattoo I saw today.

His is enormous, magnificent. It even looks like he has actual wings, which makes him look like an angel—not like the stereotype angel, but more like a dark angel. A dark, lethal angel.

I don't know how long I've been staring at him until our eyes suddenly meet. He frowns in my direction, and my heart thumps. It's impossible that he notices me—he's blind. But I swear, he does, somehow.

Those beautiful gray eyes can't see me—he doesn't meet my gaze—but he looks in my direction with such curiosity that I wonder if my intense gaze has been affecting him.

His opponent steps onto the ring, catching his attention. The crowd cheers, but I notice some people shaking their heads, as though they have already predicted what's about to happen. Some of them even have pity written on their faces, as if they expect one fighter to be beaten into a pulp.

It seems that Kellan's opponent is around the same age. His body is also well built with broad shoulders, but he doesn't look as intimidating as Kellan. His nostrils flare while Kellan's chest heaves up. Kellan takes a deep breath, a sign that he's trying to calm his temper before the fight begins.

"I don't understand why they never learn from their mistakes," a girl watching beside me is talking to her friend. "How are they supposed to complete Fenrir's task if they can't even defeat a blind man?"

Her friend laughs. "I don't care. We get to enjoy their practice session. We're lucky Kellan is the trainer for our fighters, and it seems that he always enjoys giving them a hard time."

When another guy in the ring gives the sign to start the fight with his hand, my heart starts to race. Kellan is blind—I don't know how he's going to win this fight.

The other guy attacks first. I almost gasp as Kellan dodges his punch. When he tries to land a kick, Kellan blocks it, whirls to lift his opponent's body, and then throws him harshly onto the ground.