They were already seated when I walked into the restaurant. Of course they were. And of course they looked like that.


    Luca ck shirt was unbuttoned showing his tattooed chest that went up his throat. The silver chain, the rings on his fingers that I could already feel against my skin.


    Bastion sat across from him, ck sleeves rolled to his forearms. The tattoos running from his arms to his fingers.


    I wondered for a moment if they even realised how many people were staring at them in this room. Because I wasn’t the only one looking. Three different women in the room had already turned their heads.


    It still left me wondering, if they could have anyone, why me? Why keep circling back to me, when they could have any woman they wanted?


    My chest tightened when Luca finally spotted me. He smirked as he slid out of the booth.


    For a moment the nerves kept me still. Then I walked towards them. By the time I reached them Luca was out of the booth.


    Luca hand rested on my back, as he leaned closer. “I’d kiss you, but too many eyes. Unless you want me to.”


    I smiled instead, because if I spoke it would give too much away.


    He waited until I was settled before sliding in beside me. And then Bastion mirrored him. Boxing me in. I was in the middle. Exactly where they wanted me.


    It shouldn’t make my blood rush as hot as it did.


    The restaurant was low-lit, marble polished to a shine, every table haloed by candlelight. A ce meant for quiet wealth. A ce where smoking wasn’t allowed, which was why Bastion lit his cigarette first thing.


    “Busy day, baby?” he asked.


    “There’s no smoking in here,” I murmured.


    He exhaled smoke anyway. Luca leaned close to my ear. “It’s fine, sweetie. We won’t get in trouble.” His chin tipped toward the far wall. I followed, and saw it. Etched into the marble near the kitchen door.


    Obsidian Development Group


    Of course it was theirs.


    “Couldn’t have someone else owning our girl’s favorite restaurant.” Bastion said, so casually as if what he said wasmon knowledge.


    My throat tightened. Not at the words, but at how easily he said our. And worse—how I didn’t correct him.


    The waiter appeared,ying three sses of wine, one lighter, mine and then the tes. Exactly what I would have ordered. Except I hadn’t.


    “You already ordered for me?” I asked.


    Bastion didn’t look even a little sorry. “You hate menus.”


    “I hate being controlled.”


    “And yet,” Luca said, smirking as he gestured to the food, “we got it right.”


    I wanted to be angry. But they weren’t wrong. It was perfect. Still, I lifted my fork with a steady hand. “You could’ve let me pretend I had a choice.”


    Bastion flicked ash into the tray. “You did. When you said yes to dinner.”


    Luca’s hand slid over mine, thumb dragging once across my knuckles, steadying.


    “Don’t shake,” he murmured. “You’re allowed to be nervous.”


    “I’m not.”


    I was. I was incredibly nervous and it was stupid.


    Bastion’s lowugh told me he didn’t believe it. “Lying already, baby? We just sat down.”


    I took a sip of my drinking, hiding my reaction barely. “So,” I picked my fork up, “What do you even do all day?”


    Luca leaned back slightly, as if debating whether to indulge me. “This morning I gged three security risks in Viin. Two syndicates. After that, I handled logistics for the Obsidian Crown deal. Moved capital through sshouse. Laundering updates.”


    “That’s…” I shook my head. “I don’t even know what that means.”


    “It means money moved clean,” he said, it in a way that wasn’t mocking me for not understanding.


    Bastion exhaled smoke slow. “I shot a man in the stomach at noon.”


    “What?”


    “Left him alive. Barely. He’s in a freezer until we decide what to do with him.”


    “He lied about a shipment manifest.” Luca added.


    “Oh my God?—”


    “The rest are in concrete. And after that,” Bastion took a mouthful of his whiskey, “we raided Lorne Street warehouse.”


    “Raided,” Luca echoed, lips twitched. “Six bodies. One surviving informant. Missing a thumb now.”


    “And after that,” Bastion went on, like he was listing off errands, “we brokered a ck-market trade deal for lithium stock futures. Luca’s team secured the assets.”


    I blinked. “Are you running a cartel?”


    “No,” Luca said mildly. “We run the infrastructure that supports three.”


    Bastion hummed. “Four, if you countst months deal, but we’re still restructuring the funnel.”


    My fork was frozen halfway to my mouth.


    They kept going.


    “I shut down an FBI probe before dinner. Waste of money. They never build a case.” Luca added.


    “I buried a dead courier,” Bastion followed, “and paid off his mother so she could leave the country before she started asking questions.”


    “Oh, and we bought out the private security firm your brother was negotiating with.” Luca added gently stroking my wrist, “Made them ours before his signature dried.”


    I blinked. “You’re joking.”


    They weren’t.


    Luca hummed. “We own the name on your travel clearance now. Every time you cross a border, it pings us first.”


    My throat tightened. “Why would you?—”


    “You’re too important to leave unmonitored.” Bastion took another drag.


    “You’re too theirs,” Luca corrected, tone sharp. “And they don’t deserve you.”


    I tried to sit back. Tried to breathe.


    That’s when I felt Luca’s hand.Sliding over the inside of my thigh resting it there.


    Bastion’s traced my shoulder where my dress dipped, with his fingers


    My jaw tightened. “You could’ve lied. I wouldn’t have known.”


    “But you’d feel it,” Bastion said simply.


    Luca rested his hand on my thigh under the table. “We don’t lie to you. Even when it would make you sleep easier.”


    I took a slow inhale. “I guess I just thought you two red at people all day. Probably in a casino. Or a nightclub. Maybe smoked a cigar. Bribed a few judges. Mafia movie basics.”


    Bastion smirked, “You think we’re that scary, baby?”


    My stomach dipped.


    Luca leaned closer, “We could control a whole city with our eyes.”


    I didn’t doubt it. They’d already controlled me with a single look. More than once.


    I didn’t say it out loud—but something in my face must’ve given me away. Because they both stared at me.


    “What about you, how was your day?” Bastion brushed my hair back.


    I gave them the curated answer: prep, photos, meetings. Brunch with Vivienne and Charlotte. But to be honest with them, I had to tell them the reason why we had brunch to begin with.


    “And then I had a spa appointment.” I added.


    Bastion’s fingers traced my shoulder. “Good. You need to rx.”


    “It wasn’t rxing. Not the way you think.”


    They had been honest with me. I reminded myself before I was about to change the topic.


    “It’s scheduled quarterly. A medical review. They call it a wellness check, but it’s not. It’s a quality assessment. Higher-tier dynasty advisors meet us there. One-on-one appointments.”


    My voice didn’t shake. It didn’t even soften.


    “They draw blood. Check nutrient levels. Map hormone cycles. Full pelvic exam. Bone density, skin sticity, vein response. They run a vocal stress test while you’re undressed to monitor neural patterns and spike response.”


    Luca’s hand flexed on my thigh under the table.


    “They check for internal bruising,” I added, tone matter-of-fact. “External too. They measure hip spread ratios against your predicted birth window.”


    I looked down at my fork, still resting on them edge of my te.


    “They keep records.”


    The silence that followed wasn’t normal silence. For once, they were the ones stunned.


    So I shrugged. “You didn’t lie to me,” I said, still not looking up. “So I figured…”


    I trailed off. Not because I was emotional. There was no emotion left in it. Just policy. Just my life.


    “I figured I’d tell you.”


    “You let them run diagnostics on you.” Bastion asked, his voice low.


    I nodded. “It’s normal.”


    Luca looked like he wanted to argue. But he didn’t. Because somewhere deep down, they knew.


    They had told me about shootings, syndicate raids, cartel funnels—and they hadn’t blinked.


    This was my version. Different battlefield. So I sipped my water. I wasn’t sure I could handle the wine tonight.


    “Why do they even need that information?” Luca asked.


    “They need it because it’s all relevant,” I turned slightly to met his eyes, “It’s how they n legacy.”


    Luca said nothing, but I could feel the tension. His fingers stayed still on my thigh.


    “They track my cycles,” I continued. “Hormones. Ovtion windows. Stress levels. All of it is mapped.”


    Bastion stared at me. Luca looked like at me as if I spoke a differentnguage.


    “When a wedding contract is drafted, they use that information to n the date around my fertility. That way, if the use includes a firstborn within twelve months, they can guarantee it.” I said tly, “They align the wedding date with the projected conception week.”


    Suddenly, I wished for the conversation to go back to more criminal topics. Finally, I broke the silence. “But how do you not know this?”


    Both of them looked at me.


    “You’re Crows,” I said quietly. “You’re born into this. I assumed your family would’ve been involved. The vetting. The reviews. All of it. Especially before scheduling a match.”


    Bastion leaned back, cigarette burning low between his fingers. “We don’t vet brides the way other dynasties do.”


    Luca’s eyes locked on mine, cold. “We don’t merge. We absorb.”


    The wordnded wrong, I didn’t understand.


    “Absorb?” I repeated. “You make it sound like extinction.”


    “It is,” Luca said simply. “Her bloodline is marked as absorbed in the central registry. Her holdings rerouted. Her familypensated, yes, but they no longer hold any rights over her.”


    “No more dual surnames. No open bloodline ess. No use that allows another dynasty to challenge the im,” Bastion leaned closer, his fingers holding over my pulse for a moment. “She doesn’t belong to both. She belongs to us.”


    “That’s why they hate us,” Luca added, thumb moving small circles on my thigh. “Because marriage to us doesn’t create unity. It creates extinction.”


    “Crow marriages don’t follow dynasty customs. They vite them.”


    Luca leaned in slightly. “There are rules, a ritualized path that every dynasty daughter walks. From the testing centers to the vetting interviews to the staged engagements. Everything is choreographed to preserve appearances. Purity. Bloodline and politics.”


    “But the Crows don’t care about appearances,” Bastion said. “We care about possession.”


    I frowned. “So you ignore the process?”


    “We dismantle it,” Luca said.


    “Then rewrite it,” Bastion added.


    He tapped ash into the tray again, watching me like he was studying how much I could take.


    “Our family’s rituals don’t appear in the dynasty codex. They were banned generations ago.”


    “Why?”


    “Because they’re final,” Luca said simply. “Once the vow is made, the bride is sealed to the bloodline.”


    “And the iming rite,” Bastion added, “is done publicly. In front of every living Crow. Because it’s not just a wedding.”


    “They watch?” I asked.


    Bastion’s eyes met mine. “They witness.”


    “The entire dynasty?”


    “Our dynasty,” Luca corrected. “You think the others don’t know? They talk about us like we’re savages. Like we’re unstable. Dangerous.” He leaned in. “And they’re right.”


    “Because we don’t perform power,” Bastion said. “We own it.”


    I stared at him.


    “You’re not afraid of the Sovereign Codex at all, are you?”


    Bastion’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.


    “They’re afraid of us.”


    He wasn’t wrong. I felt it every time someone whispered Crow like it meant something darker.


    Luca’s hand was still resting on my thigh, warm and steady.


    “You asked why our family doesn’t follow the protocols,” he said softly. “It’s because we don’t need to.”<fn232e> ???? ????s? ???????s ?? FιndNovel</fn232e>


    “We don’t borrow. We brand.”


    And I knew he wasn’t just talking about business. Or dynastyw. He was talking about the bride.


    “I’m probably going to regret this,” I said, sliding my wine ss forward, “but what does branding actually look like?”


    “For us or?—“


    “Both,” I asked.


    Luca answered first. “You’re branded with the dynasty crest when you turn sixteen. But only if you take the Oath.”


    “What happens if you don’t?”


    “You don’t get the brand. You don’t get the family. You’re out.”


    “They carve it into your back. Not just ink—carve. Every line filled with blood first. The pain is part of it.”


    “Four hours,” Bastion added. “You’re not allowed to move or speak once the needle touches skin.”


    “You say your vows first,” Luca said. “Then silence. And after that…”


    “You belong,” Bastion finished.


    Belong. That word hit harder than I expected.


    “And wives?” I asked softly.


    “They get marked differently. But yes. Just as permanent.”


    “The full crest goes across her back,” Luca added. “During the wedding, the husband’s name is tattooed shoulder to shoulder over it. The space is intentionally left nk until then.”


    Bastion finger traced my shoulder, causing my blood to rush.


    “And the lock-in,” Bastion said, voice lower now. “Five days in istion. Training his pet.”


    My spine stiffened. “You’re joking.”


    “We’re not.”


    “The thigh seal is applied during the lock in. That’s only for Crow Dynasty wives. Invisible to the public, only the husband sees it.”


    I swallowed. “Like a brand?”


    “A vow mark,” he said. “Kissed. Then tattooed. ced where he chooses.”


    Where he chooses. I was too shocked even shake my head.


    “The lock in is also when the wife is cored.” Luca added, just as Bastion traced my neck.


    “What?” I couldn’t even hide my shock.


    “You wear a cor,” Luca exined. “Ne. Ring. Bracelet. It doesn’te off.”


    All this time I thought their Codex was just rumoured to be different.


    “It doesn’te off?” I repeated. The words slipped out before I could stop them.


    I could’ve left it there. I should have.


    But something bitter crept through me and the weight of the way they spoke about wives like they were roles, not people<span>.


    “So that’s what they are to your family?” I added quietly. “Wives. Pets.”


    Our whole life we are told that Crows im, but hearing it from them, it hit differently.


    “No,” Bastion said finally. “They’re not pets.”


    He leaned in slightly. “A pet can be reced. A wife can’t.”


    Luca’s voice followed, “When we cor her, it’s not to own her body.”


    My jaw clenched.


    He saw it—of course he did—and added, “It’s to mark that she owns ours.”


    I nearly rolled my eyes,“I don’t?—”


    “You asked how long it stays on,” Bastion cut in, eyes dark. “The answer’s forever.”


    “But—”


    “Our Dynasty does not divorce,” Luca said simply. “Ever. Not once the vow is made.”


    “That cor isn’t ornamental,” Bastion murmured. “It’s proof. Of loyalty, permanence.”


    “And love,” Luca said, quieter now. “It’s supposed to mean love.”


    I sat still, the words thick in my throat.


    Bastion’s hand grazed my shoulder, fingers brushing my skin like he was trying to anchor the weight of his own words.


    “There’s a reason the lock-in is five days,” he added. “It’s not about breaking her. It’s about binding us.”


    “Training,” I whispered. “That’s what you called it.”


    Luca nodded. “Training her to trust. To let go. To stop performing peace and start feeling it.”


    I didn’t speak. I just looked at them, trying to find the line where devotion ended and domination began.


    “So let me get this straight,” I moved slightly, “There are blood rituals. Crest tattoos. Blood tattoos. Cors. The lock-in. Training. A vow said over her thigh before you brand her skin.”


    Their silence was a kind of answer. I kept going.


    “She loses her name. Her clothes. Her home. Her passport. Her file gets sealed and her schedule rerouted through your security servers. She gets assigned a driver, a medic, and a digital handler who makes sure she posts the right things, smiles the right way, bleeds at the right time.”


    Neither of them corrected me.


    Bastion’s and Luca’s hand stayed resting against my thighs, perfectly still.


    “She’s not allowed to leave the lock-in house. She is naked and fucked in front of the whole dynasty Then she is cored.”


    Luca’s jaw flexed.


    “She gets tattooed before she even signs her name. And when the wedding is over, if she passes, she’s trained like an animal. Every instinct stripped out. Every emotion repatterned. Her old life extinct.”


    My throat tightened. ‘And that’s before the dynasty protocol starts.’


    I paused long enough, so they could feel it.


    “So what does she get?” I tilted my head. “What does her family get?”


    Because I’d been raised in dynasty circles. I knew the exchange rate. I knew the dance of value and cost and marriage as merger.


    “If everything’s erased and everything’s controlled,” I asked calmly, “what does the bride get in return?”


    Bastion’s eyes burned into mine.


    “Security.”


    “That’s not enough.”


    “Power,” Luca said.


    “Power you still control.”


    “Legacy,” Bastion offered.


    “Yours.”


    “And loyalty,” Luca finished.


    “To whom?” I asked. “To the dynasty? To her husband? Or to the version of herself you’ve written over?”


    “To us,” Bastion said. There was no hesitation in it. “To us. Not the dynasty. Not the family. Not thew.”


    He leaned forward, forearms resting on the table. “She gives us everything. And in return, we burn the world for her.”


    The silence that followed Bastion’s words felt scorched at the edges.


    Luca shifted his fingers moved from my thigh to my hand, lifting it gently, like it was something precious. Like I was something fragile. Not because I was weak, but because the truth unsettled me in a way he understood.


    “They’re not designed to hurt you,” he said, voice low. “Our rituals.”


    I looked at him, but he was staring at my hand in his—running his thumb slowly over the curve of my knuckle, memorizing it.


    “They’re not chains,” he added. “They’re anchors.”


    I didn’t answer.


    “That cor you asked about? It’s not about control. Not the way you think.” He paused, as if searching for the rightnguage to make it sound less like a cage. “It’s about recognition.”


    That word caught me off guard. “Recognition?”


    He nodded. “In our world, everything gets taken. Land. Names. Lovers. Legacies. There’s always someone waiting to strip you bare and call it business.”


    His thumb moved slower now. “So when we find someone—someone ours—we don’t let them vanish into the noise.”


    He finally looked up at me, gaze searing but soft.


    “We mark them.”


    I swallowed hard.


    “Because we need the world to know,” he added. “That she’s spoken for. That there’s a line no one crosses. That her pain, her joy, her blood—all of it—belongs somewhere.”


    His fingers threaded between mine.


    “She’s not erased,” he said. “She’s imed.”


    “She never has to look over her shoulder again,” Bastion said. “Because we’re already there.”


    “And if anyone ever forgets,” Luca said, brushing a loose strand of hair from my cheek, “the tattoos, the cor,—they’re just reminders.”


    “Reminders of what?”


    “That she’s not alone.”


    I let Luca’s words settle.


    Anchors. Not chains. Recognition. Not control. And maybe there was a part of me that wanted to believe it.


    That wanted to close my eyes and pretend the cor wasn’t symbolic of anything darker—that it was about protection, not power. But I wasn’t that girl anymore.


    I’d spent too long memorizing the fine print to confuse ritual for romance.


    So I drew my hand back slowly.


    And looked between them—these men who were raised on dominance and blood, who ruled like it was their birthright.


    “Crows don’t marry for love,” I said, voice even. “You marry for leverage. So why,” I asked, folding my hands calmly on the table, “would any Crow pledge that much of himself—rituals, tattoos, ownership, oaths—if it wasn’t for power?”


    The question wasn’t cruel. It was clinical. A truth we all knew, said out loud.


    “Because when a Crow gives his name, his blood, his vow…” His gaze dragged over me, slow and possessive. “It’s not for the contract. It’s not for the family.”


    “Then what?” I challenged.


    “It’s for the war we’re about to start.”He didn’t look away. “She bes the line we protect. The kingdom we burn everything else down to keep standing.”


    Luca picked up where Bastion left off. “Dynasty calls it power. We call it possession.”


    “You still didn’t answer,” I said. “Why would a Crow go all in?”


    Luca’s voice was quiet, but absolute.


    “Because sometimes, one woman is worth more than a thousand alliances.”


    “But all Crows marry to end wars?” I said it like it was nothing. Because it was. Common knowledge. Dynasty curriculum 101. “It’s standard practice. Everyone knows most Crow marriages are forged to smooth over conflict. To settle vendettas. The bride is a gesture, an offering to stop the bleeding.”


    Neither of them denied it.


    Bastion’s jaw ticked once. Luca leaned back.


    “Common,” Bastion agreed. “If not always the case.”


    “Right.” I nodded. “Because there’s always a war. And yet you two sit here. Act like it’s for love.”


    Their eyes didn’t move. Neither twin spoke.


    “So why,” I continued, “would a Crow—one of your family—willingly give up his power and swear to protect someone who’s nothing more than a peace g?”


    Bastion ran his knuckles across my shoulder. He traced a single line down my spine, right at the edge of my dress.


    “Baby,” he knuckles paused, “you’re forgetting the most important part.”


    I arched a brow. “Which is?”


    “A war,” Luca mouth was beside my ear, “has to start.”


    My breath stilled.


    “And most times,” he continued, his fingers sliding inside of my thigh, “it’s because a Crow wants something.”


    Heat flickered low in my stomach—but I kept my voice even.


    “And what… exactly… does a Crow want?”


    “You said it yourself,” Bastion voice was heavy against my other ear. “There’s nothing in a merger for the bride’s family.”


    “We take,” Luca lips brushed my ear. “Always have.”


    “And most families,” Bastion fingers moved under the back of my dress, “don’t take kindly to having an investment stolen.”


    I swallowed, pulse ticking.


    Because I knew what dynasty daughters were. I knew what we were groomed for. A bargaining chip dressed in expensive dress.


    “You start wars,” I said quietly, “to take who you want.”


    “Exactly,” Luca rings rested cold against the inside of my thigh.


    “And no one stops us,” Bastion finished.


    I could feel their breath, warm at my neck. The air between us tightened.


    “You look beautiful tonight,” Luca voice so low it made my thighs clench. “You always do. But right now… fuck, right now…” His fingers pressed in just slightly, reminding me he hadn’t let go.


    “You look flushed,” Bastion’s knuckles now at the curve of my neck. “Stay with us tonight. I made a promise, remember.” His mouth now against my ear, “This dress belongs on the floor. And you belong between us. Naked. Begging.”


    “I told you,” I turned my head slightly, “I mightn’t beg.”


    He took a rough inhale.


    Luca hand went up under my chin, his mouth grazing my cheek. “Eat your dinner. So we can leave and eat you.”


    I took a broken breath and nodded.


    “Good girl,” Bastion kissed my neck, at the same time Luca squeezed my thigh.


    And I didn’t say anything, because as per normal. I had lost my ability to think clearly with their hands on me.