The Salvatores Collection: A Steel Saviors MC Romance

by Ethan Egorov

  “Yes. I understand, Rachel. I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Just relax if you can do that. I’m certain it will help your wife too.”

  Rachel began to put some medication in an IV, and after a few short minutes, Lucille’s body relaxed as she fell back into a soft slumber.

  “I love you, my dear,” Saul said, kissing her one more time. Then he looked to Antonio and Trent. “Boys, let’s go. Let’s talk.”

  Saul, Trent, and Antonio left the room knowing full well they were not about to have a fun conversation. The fact that Saul had so quickly flipped from loving, doting husband to pissed off Salvatore said it all.

  “Merry Christmas, huh,” Antonio said.

  His eyes darkened and his jaw muscles clenched. He stared at Lucille’s hospital room, and his eyes were so heated with anger that if it were possible, he would have set the entire ward on fire.

  “Merry Christmas, indeed, Antonio,” Saul said grimly. “Whoever it was that stabbed her, wished her Merry Christmas. The bastards. We’re lucky we got to her in time.”

  Saul took a couple deep breaths, looked at Antonio and Trent, and focused his gaze so hard on the two of them that it actually instilled some fear in Trent.

  “You know, I’m not a man that is well-suited for revenge or vengeance. You know that I would much rather just make pasta, run my store, and make conversation with your family. But you have to understand, this is my wife. This is the woman who has kept me motivated and has inspired me to keep breathing for almost half of my life. I want you to find the person who stabbed her and bring them to justice in whatever way you see fit. And while I am not going to tell you how to inflict justice . . . you know what you need to do.”

  Antonio placed his hand on Saul’s shoulder.

  “That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d say. We’re going to find the person who stabbed Lucille and trust me, I think I have a pretty good idea where to start.”

  Trent didn’t change his expression, but he was surprised. What did Antonio know that he didn’t?

  “Come on, Trent,” his father said. “It’s time we took another stroll down memory lane. Saul, we’ll leave you here with Lucille.”

  “Understood,” Saul said. “Thanks for everything that you are doing.”

  “Thank us when we have her assailant in our hands,” Antonio said. “For now, take care of her.”

  With that, the two Salvatores left. Antonio and Trent sat in the back seat of their car after Antonio had given the driver orders to immediately take them back to the family estate so they could plan their strategy for retribution for Saul’s wife. Trent, for his part, mentally prepared himself to get more involved in the family business than he ever had.

  He had seen violence and retaliation for years, but there always seemed to be some sort of implied, understood boundary. You didn’t act against the women in the families. You didn’t attack the elderly. And you kept your strikes to those responsible for whatever had happened before.

  Sometimes, the attacks went outside those lines. But when they did, they barely jumped lines, and the attacks weren’t that frequent.

  This, though? This was so very different. This violated every norm possible, and if anything that didn’t affect him personally was going to get Trent more involved in the business, it was this.

  “I should have known at some point they’d return with a vengeance.”

  Trent had an idea what his father meant but gave him room to elaborate. For a few moments, Antonio did not. He just sighed, appearing to gather himself before he finally spoke.

  “You remember the day your mother explained to you that you were adopted, right?”

  How could I ever forget it? It’s something I think about all the time. Shit, I thought about it at dinner tonight and at every family gathering. I don’t feel excluded, but I can’t pretend I’m as much a Salvatore as Tommy or you, father.

  “She didn’t make it sound like a bad thing, and I don’t remember feeling bad about it,” Trent said, and that was the truth. It was not a lie meant to placate his father. “She never treated me differently than any other family member. You didn’t either. I was loved, and that was all that mattered.”

  That didn’t mean Trent didn’t have difficult moments, but on the whole, when he took an objective view on things, he had to admit that he had a pretty good life.

  “Absolutely, son. She didn’t tell you the circumstances behind your adoption, though, did she?”

  Trent shook his head. That was one of those topics that had just never been discussed, cementing the notion that just because people were family didn’t mean everyone spoke like so. He knew that his birth family hadn’t been great. He knew that his father kept telling him he had come into a much more loving family, one that would value him far more than his previous one.

  But as far as details? It was a foggy story. For as much as he knew bits and pieces about Alessandro and Roberto, he knew just as little about his own adoption.

  “Well, let’s just say it was under some grave circumstances.”

  Well, that sounds about right.

  “You see, when Alessandro started courting Charlotte, things changed, and the relationship between him and Roberto was broken beyond repair. Roberto, despite his own happiness, had already developed somewhat of a killer instinct in the business. You see, Alessandro was still his top competitor, and Roberto wanted nothing more than the whole pie. He wasn’t content with just his own little piece of heaven.”

  Naturally. Explains why we’ve been fighting all these years.

  “Roberto had a friend in the District Attorney’s office, so he put a bug in his ear that Alessandro had a sweet young thing he was fucking on the down-low. His mysterious friend in the DA’s office went directly to Charlotte’s husband, who already suspected her infidelity. Well, Alessandro didn’t find happily ever after. What he found in early November was Charlotte’s body stretched out in front of his apartment.”

  Jesus. What is it with the Mikkelsons attacking these innocent women?

  “Alessandro was beside himself with grief and failed to keep up with his businesses. He lost employees to Roberto’s promises of larger paychecks. He also lost some properties to a lack of paying taxes, which Roberto quickly scooped up. Roberto, though, couldn’t anticipate Alessandro recovering from the loss of his first love. He also couldn’t anticipate his meeting his future wife, Monica.”

  The woman who helped Alessandro found the family. Alessandro sure was something else.

  “Anyway, Alessandro knew Roberto was the person who had put him in his own hell. He made a vow to reopen all his businesses and also expand on the drug trade. He would put Roberto out of business once and for all. So, you see, he and Monica were starting to be really happy together and things were going well, but he was simply done playing nice with Roberto. He retaliated and killed a couple of Roberto’s uncles in a dive bar downtown. Alessandro was man enough to do it himself, though. He was never charged with the crime, and despite the fact he literally had blood on his hands, he was slick enough to get away with it.”

  Damn. That’s the family I got adopted into. I just hope I can live up to the standards.

  Trent knew he never could, not with him being detached for so long. Still, hearing this story as it was made him start to feel better about engaging with and being part of the family.

  “After Alessandro and Monica got married, they had a brief honeymoon. He’d had such heartbreak with his first love, he was scared to death of losing Monica. Because of that fear, he decided that for their honeymoon, they would travel back to the Old Country and spend some time with relatives still overseas. Roberto was advised by his inside sources that Alessandro decided to go home and visit some relatives, and he thought that his opportunity to be king of the mountain had arrived.”

  And it all comes to a head.

  “So, after the seasons changed, of course, Alessandro and Monica came back to the States, and Monica announced she
was pregnant. Things ran smoothly until one evening, Monica was coming back from the market. She carried a brown paper bag full of produce, meats, and bread from the store. She was focused on keeping all the items in the bag when out of nowhere, two men made a grab for her purse. She clawed at her attackers, promptly dropping the bag of groceries while not only continuing to fight for her purse but also screaming for help. The two grown men threw her to the ground and beat her until she was face-down in a puddle of water, barely able to move. By the time Alessandro realized she’d been missing and found her, it was too late. Monica would be okay, save for some torn muscles and lots of bruising, but the baby didn’t make it. She had a miscarriage before they even had a chance to paint the nursery or get a crib.”

  Antonio sighed. To Trent, it felt like this family was destined to be full of heartbreak and sorrow. He was feeling more compelled to get involved and more aware that the violence and the bloodshed were unlikely to change anytime soon.

  “Alessandro just couldn’t seem to catch a break. It was an eye for an eye at that point. Shortly thereafter, though, Monica became pregnant with your grandfather and his brothers soon after that. Briefly, it felt like we had a spell of peace. Still, Alessandro couldn’t forgive or forget all the pain Roberto caused his family. He declared that Roberto Mikkelson wouldn’t have any male heirs left to leave his estate or his lineage to. Which brings us to today.”

  Trent nervously leaned forward, eager for the payoff. He was also very curious to see how this all tied into the fact that he was adopted. Perhaps they had attacked an orphanage where he was being held? Perhaps one of the Mikkelsons knew him and had tried to kill him before the Salvatores rescued him?

  “After Alessandro started his own family and had a bit of a competitive edge on Roberto, he decided that he would attack Roberto’s family when they least expected it, but unfortunately, he was too old, and he had to have Pop take over. His dying wish was to see the Mikkelson clan have no future male heirs. And when Alessandro finally died, after a few days of mourning, Pops and I decided it was time to put a plan into action. It was time to end the Mikkelsons once and for all.”

  Trent nodded, his attention so focused that a gunshot could have gone off in the mansion, and he wouldn’t have broken concentration.

  “Now, you were far too young to recall the events, but I was a young man in my prime. It was a cold Christmas Eve when we did the unimaginable. The Mikkelsons have always been bad about letting their guard down when they think they’re ahead, so that cold and snowy evening we broke into their compound and started shooting . . . and we didn’t stop.”

  Trent knew what was coming. He knew what the family business entailed. And still, he was in disbelief every time he heard it.

  “We killed almost the entire staff . . . women, children, the old folks. We were fueled by our undying bloodlust. There needed to be retribution. And quite frankly, I wanted the war to be over for good, with us being victorious. I know this probably sounds heinous to you, but we were just doing what we thought was right. Alessandro needed some vengeance, and the rest of the family, they needed some peace from their legacy.”

  It was a reminder to Trent that though he believed he was on the righteous side, no side was ever pure. It was part of the reason he had stayed detached for so long. It was impossible to truly keep your hands washed and clean once you entered the war.

  “In our murderous spree, we spotted one last shred of the Mikkelson bloodline. There was an infant son who had been left unattended in a tiny crib. As soon as I saw the tiny face and small tightened fists, I just couldn’t look away. Somehow, the baby’s deep blue eyes and peaceful features brought me out of my rage . . . and all I could think about was keeping that baby safe.”

  Oh.

  Shit.

  Even before Antonio said another word, Trent knew immediately who that baby was. It was someone he knew.

  “Even after all these years, that’s what I still want. That’s the only thing a father wants, really.”

  That baby . . . was me.

  “I quickly packed you up and tucked you under my coat to keep you warm all the way back to our safe house. You didn’t hardly make any noise as I rocked you back and forth, waiting for daylight to break so we could get you here safely. And then, when daylight broke, it was Christmas. So, that’s what Merry Christmas is about, Trenton.”

  Trent sat there dumbfounded. He knew about the Mikkelson-Salvatore feud on some level, he knew about the family business on some level, and he knew he was adopted. But for it to be like this, for it to go so deep . . .

  Why didn’t I know this before? Why was I kept out of the loop like this?

  “They want payback for us taking you so many years ago. Now you’re a grown man, and you have every right to your own lineage and birthright, but son, you’re family to me. Ever since that night, you clutched my index finger in your tiny fist; you were my son. I hope that knowing your history doesn’t change that fact. But it’s up to you.”

  Trent took a deep, steadying breath and looked into his father’s clear, grey eyes. They looked both tired and haunted but showed no signs of anger, regret, or malice. Trent took a few sips of his scotch and stood up.

  He had every right to tell his father to fuck off for keeping this secret until now. He had every justification for walking away, never returning to the Salvatores or the Mikkelsons, and just making a life of his own. If he wanted to, he had the money and the means to escape, and frankly, his father probably would have helped him.

  But he didn’t.

  Instead, he knelt beside his father and pulled him into his arms for an embrace.

  Were the Salvatores angels? No. In fact, they were probably closer to demons than angels. But in terms of taking care of him and helping him, the Salvatores had truly been saviors. They had given Trent everything he needed, and not just materially. They had given him all of the emotional support and love he needed.

  The only other person in his life who had been so good to him as they had was . . . well, she was no longer in the picture, and she was unlikely to re-appear anytime soon. Trent knew Kristina wasn’t coming back, but he knew his family wasn’t about to go anywhere.

  “No, this doesn’t change anything,” Trent said, patting his father’s shoulders. “Family is more than bloodlines. True family is the people you can turn to during any situation and ask for help or even celebrate the smallest of moments with. I wish you had told me this sooner, but at the same time, I understand why you didn’t.”

  Trent knew this revelation would linger for some time. It would still take a bit for him to make sense of it all. And truth be told, he didn’t really understand why it had been hidden. Maybe in his teenage years, at the height of his immaturity, the family secret made sense. But after he and Kristina had broken up and he had grown up?

  Nevertheless, he wasn’t lying about how much the Salvatores meant to him. He really did see Antonio and the rest of the Salvatores as his family. He didn’t know how he would feel in the future, but for now, he was home, and there was no hesitation in believing that.

  “Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you, son.”

  Neither of them felt any odder describing the other as father or son. If anything, it felt even more natural now.

  Trent decided he would stay the night with his father. Starting with his birthday celebration, which he could scarcely believe had occurred given how much had transpired in the hours since he had been drinking quite a bit and didn’t feel like making the short drive home. His father wouldn’t have stopped him, but it just wasn’t something that interested Trent at the moment.

  He walked upstairs to the room he kept in the mansion and opened the door. He liked the space, but he just didn’t consider it his own. Even though he may have felt at home in the house and with the Salvatores, he felt as if the room was more a hotel room. That was one thing the Salvatores could never quite get out of him. His need for independence, even from the very family that had lo
ved and cherished him, was too strong. Only one person could make him want to give up his independence, and . . .

  I’ve thought of her enough tonight.

  Home was his tiny apartment where he kept his baseball pennants and old photographs of his family, the Salvatores. Home was where he had his collection of odd coffee cups and his favorite recliner. He would sink into its cushions at the end of a job and put his feet up, staring at whatever movie he threw in the DVD player.

  Home was where Trent Salvatore could be himself and not have to worry about keeping up appearances, being a Salvatore, or thinking about his future. He could just be.

  After undressing and laying on the bed, Trent stretched out his long legs, grateful that at least the bed in the mansion was long enough to compensate for his height. When he closed his eyes, though, instead of finding peace for the night, he thought about his father’s revelation.

  Trent knew for a long time he wasn’t part of the family by blood, but he didn’t know the exact circumstances were that of revenge. Trent knew, though, that his father had done the best he could through the years to protect him from the ugly side of the business. Even growing up, he didn’t have much contact with the public or the outside world. He didn’t know what his father did for many years. Antonio waited until Trent was a teenager to let him make the choice of how much he wanted to know about what he actually did for a living.

  Trent was still figuring that out. Even as an adult, he tended to run from problems, preferring to contemplate them in isolation and formulating a plan that he could implement to solve them. He liked to call it his independent streak, but if he was being honest, and if he allowed himself to think about what Rachelle and Kristina had told him, either directly or through hints, it was more of a self-isolation, avoidance streak.

  His thoughts drifted as his eyes grew heavy. Stretched out in the bed, he rolled over and reached out. It only then dawned on him that this was the first birthday he celebrated in a long, long time where he didn’t have someone by his side.