Taking Vega

  TERRI ANNE BROWNING

  Copyright © Terri Anne Browning/Anna Henson 2025

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Terri Anne Browning, except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976.

  Taking Vega

  Written by Terri Anne Browning

  All Rights Reserved ©Terri Anne Browning 2025

  Edited by Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Taking Vega is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical means, including storage or retrieval systems, without the express permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Contents

  Kane

  Vega

  Ryder

  1. Vega

  2. Vega

  3. Vega

  4. Ryder

  5. Kane

  6. Vega

  7. Ryder

  8. Kane

  9. Vega

  10. Vega

  11. Vega

  12. Vega

  13. Vega

  14. Kane

  15. Vega

  16. Ryder

  Epilogue

  Kane

  VEGA’S EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY

  Ryder drove us to a part of the city where his SUV was glaringly conspicuous. The rims on the damn thing cost more than the majority of the run-down houses. If my friend was slumming it with someone on this side of town, then he needed to get better at sneaking in and out. Not only because his prick of a father would lose his shit, but Aurelio Bianchi would be pissed.

  Bianchi didn’t care who Ryder or I fucked until we married his spoiled little princess daughters, but he demanded discretion. Can’t have the head of la famiglia being shamed because his future sons-in-law were hitting dirty pussy.

  “See that basketball court?” He tipped his chin toward where a dozen kids were playing ball. “Fractured my hand on an asshole’s face when I was sixteen. Couldn’t tell the home’s director. Already had two strikes against me, and they would have kicked me out, shipped me upstate to an all-male camp for violent juvies in the system. Vega wrapped my hand, told the old crone some compelling, bullshit story that explained why I had a splint on. Saved my ass, as always.”

  “Why’d you break your hand on some loser’s face, man?” I knew Ryder had been in the foster system until he was eighteen. Then when he aged out, Cullum O’Machain had reached out to his son. His only heir. I asked my old man why Cullum had left his kid in a group home if he knew he existed, letting him think he was a freaking orphan. Da had only shrugged and said the fucker probably didn’t want to have to deal with him until he absolutely had to.

  That sounded like Cullum. Bastard never took responsibility for anything, but he sure as fuck enjoyed the rewards for others’ hard work.

  Ryder’s face darkened, his blue eyes narrowing on the court before returning his attention to the road. “Motherfucker put his hands on Vega.”

  “Who the fuck is Vega? You’ve never talked about him before.”

  “Vega is my best friend, man. I wouldn’t have survived that hellhole if it weren’t for Vay.”

  “I’m your best friend now, dickhead,” I grumbled. “We’re gonna be family in a few years. Fucking brothers by marriage.”

  Whether we liked it or not, we’d be freaking trauma bonded. I was not looking forward to a lifetime of being Raffaella Bianchi’s husband. I couldn’t stand that cold-ass bitch. How did Da expect me to fuck an heir into her when my dick practically got frostbite simply standing beside her? It was going to have to be one of those artificial insemination things, because I couldn’t even get hard for that stuck-up cunt.

  No one expected us to have a real marriage, though. Just pretend. Produce an heir for the Brennan family, maybe a spare—which was pushing it. Attend the occasional event together, let her walk around holding my arm at charity galas or some other noble, supposedly worthwhile events that would tell the public we were respectable.

  What utter bullshit.

  Da didn’t give a fuck if I had someone on the side. He had more than one to warm his bed, and my ma didn’t care as long as her allowance kept coming and he didn’t embarrass her. His money kept her malleable. Making her look like the cuckquean she was, however, was the quickest way to get Dónal Brennan’s car set on fire.

  That’s what Ma had done when I was nine and his favorite mistress got upset that Dónal wasn’t showing her enough attention. The bitch sold a video of herself sucking his cock to some porn site and then forwarded the link to Ma.

  It wouldn’t have been nearly as messy if the mistress hadn’t been in the car at the time Ma had set it on fire. Da’s favorite mistress got cooked right in front of me, and he’d been extra diligent about his other women not repeating that mistake.

  I sure as hell wouldn’t be so reckless. Ma was a little unhinged when her temper took over. According to my man watching Bianchi’s daughters, Raffaella and Amadea were glorified mean girls, but they were too brain-dead to do more than stomp their feet and whine until Aurelio gave them their way.

  Which wasn’t anything Ryder and I weren’t aware of already. We’d had to show up to a few family dinners and play nice with our intendeds. Their scope of small-talk topics was shopping, favorite TikTok makeup influencers, and their yappy little designer dogs that they kept in their laps at all times. Including dinner.

  Aurelio’s daughters might have been nothing more than simpering little brats. Him, not so much.

  Not that he would be a problem for anyone once Ryder and I officially married his daughters. Since he had no male heirs, and he was smart enough not to turn over his power to either of his idiot daughters, we would merge all three territories. And then I would put a bullet in Aurelio’s head, make it look like he’d eaten the business end of his own gun, and drop Raffaella in some villa in Italy.

  Killing her would have been the better option in my opinion, but Ryder still had a little soul left. He wanted to lock our wives away in another country. Divorce wasn’t an option, but what did that matter? It wasn’t as if I ever wanted to tie myself to anyone else.

  If Cullum kept pissing me off, I’d shove a barrel down his throat as well. That fucking idiot didn’t know how to quit when he was ahead. If he kept fucking around with my best friend, I’d end him before this stupid wedding.

  Da wasn’t doing himself any favors either. He pushed me a little closer to committing patricide every time I heard him speak. If I lacked compassion, or any other human emotion, it was my father’s fault. Maybe a little of my ma’s as well. If nothing else, I’d inherited my temper from her—slow to ignite, but burned hotter than the core of the sun once it was sparked.

  What I knew was loyalty and trust, and the only person who deserved both from me was Ryder. Practically from the moment he’d been pulled into the “family business” by Cullum, we’d been thrown together. It had been my job to give Ryder a crash course in the darkest sides of mob life.

  Ryder was a natural, which wasn’t all that surprising, considering who he shared DNA with. He went from a few street smarts learned from his time in a group home to one of the most feared enforcers in our syndicate under my tutelage.

  Time after time, Ryder proved to me he had my back. He was a true friend, something I’d never had until him.

  Slowing when he came to a school zone, Ryder carefully drove into a back parking lot of a high school and stopped at the far side. We didn’t blend in with the older-model junkers parked around us, but no one who came out appeared to pay us much attention as we sat there.

  “You gonna tell me what we’re doing here?” I finally asked, slumped back in the passenger’s seat, ignoring the buzzing phone in my pocket.

  There was some bullshit dinner I was supposed to attend with Da and Ma. Raffaella and her sister would be there with their father. Cullum was going, which meant Ryder should be there as well. But if he wasn’t there, it was better for everyone that I wasn’t either. I didn’t have the patience to deal with any of them on my own. Lately, my temper had been closer to the surface than normal, easier to set off and leaving behind a larger blast zone.

  I constantly felt restless, as if I were waiting on something—someone.

  “It’s Vega’s birthday,” Ryder said with a shrug, his gaze on the double doors where people were coming out in clusters. Teachers and students left the school, none of them standing out past their cheap clothes and backpacks slung over their shoulders.

  “Great,” I muttered, slouching a little more, irritation climbing my spine. Now I was going to be stuck with some little sidekick all evening. If I’d wanted to babysit some idiot, I would have gone to dinner with my parents.

  Without taking his eyes off the exit, Ryder laughed low and deep. “It’s gonna be a good night, man. We’re going straight to dinner as soon as Vega comes out. I want tonight to be perfect.”

  “Only the best for your BFF,” I sneered.

  “Just wait. You’re gonna love Vay as much as I do,” he chortled.

  “Doubtful.”

  “Hundr
ed large, you’re hooked before we even make it to the restaurant.” He stuck out his hand, ready to shake on it, gaze still glued to the high school.

  “Easy money,” I groused, shaking.

  His hand barely fell away when he sucked in a sharp breath. Before I could figure out which of the new group of kids had left the building, he was out the driver’s door and sprinting. “Vega!”

  A feminine squeal hit my ears as I slowly opened my own door and stepped out in time to see a pair of legs wrap around Ryder’s waist. Golden-bronze hair was tossed around as he swung her in a circle, earning a happy giggle from the girl he’d just swept off her feet.

  Frowning, I scanned the other people walking around. A few teachers looking tired and fed up shifted paths to get around Ryder and the girl, but everyone else was headed in different directions, not sparing the couple more than rolled eyes and a huff. Where the fuck was this Vega dude that Ryder couldn’t stop talking about today?

  With the girl still wrapped around him, Ryder hugged her to his chest hard, rolling his forehead against hers. “Missed you, little star.”

  “Missed you, Ry,” she whispered back as I reached them.

  “Why the fuck did you let me think Vega was a guy all this time, asshole?” I grumbled.

  Arms tightening around the girl, Ryder shifted his head to grin at me. “Figured once you knew I had such a beautiful best friend, you’d try to steal her away. Couldn’t let that happen too soon. I was greedy for a little more time keeping her just for myself.”

  Adjusting his hold, he placed her on her feet then turned her to face me. A set of green-gold eyes lifted to my face, and I suddenly felt gut punched. Next to Ryder, who was a solid six-three, she was tiny. A heart-shaped face with a curved jaw; small, upturned nose; full lips that had a rounded, defined Cupid’s bow. Her eyes were large, with the thickest natural lashes I’d ever seen on anyone, the gold looking like an actual starburst in the middle of that magnetic green.

  Unconsciously, I found myself taking a step closer, needing to erase the distance separating us. Enchanted. Bewitched. Motherfucking enthralled. A booming sensation filled my chest, like a goddamn bomb detonated where my heart should have been. I almost pressed a hand to it but stopped myself before I could rub away the ache that settled there, not wanting it to fade.

  She stood before me, eyes widening, mouth agape, just as stunned as I was.

  Jesus Christ.

  Ryder had been hiding this perfect little angel away from me, denying me access to the girl he knew would be my heaven and hell. My bloody ruin. One look into those huge green-gold eyes and I knew she was it. That boom wasn’t just an explosion. She was a thief, stealing my heart straight from my chest with nothing but a flutter of her lashes.

  “Hello, mo réiltín,” I husked.

  “Vay, this is my buddy Kane. We work together.”

  I shot him a glance, his blue eyes shuttered, telling me without words that he was keeping more than a little about himself from her. Which meant I needed to as well. Fuck.

  Did she not know who he really was?

  Did she not know about Amadea?

  Double fuck.

  Thinking of Raffaella, my stomach soured. No, I didn’t want Vega to know about my fiancée either. I needed a new plan. There was no goddamn way I was going to be tied to another woman, not now that I’d found this beautiful little star. Keeping secrets from her felt wrong, but I knew instantly that telling her more would cost Ryder and me too much

  “Kane, this is Vega, my best friend and the birthday girl,” he finished the introduction.

  “Hi,” she breathed, offering her hand.

  Desperate for any reason to touch her, I clasped her hand, my heart—a fucking organ I hadn’t thought actually worked—suddenly in my throat. “Happy birthday, mo réiltín.”

  Vega

  SIX WEEKS LATER

  I wasn’t sure what hurt more, my head or my feet. After waking up at five that morning to study for a final, I then walked to work and pulled a double. My smile kept the tips flowing as I took orders and served up the greasy trash my boss called cuisine.

  All I wanted was three ibuprofen, a hot shower, and a meal that didn’t come from a to-go container or a ramen packet. Stepping out of Frank’s Diner, I slung my backpack over one shoulder and turned for the bus stop that was two blocks down.

  Before I made it a dozen steps, an expensive SUV pulled up beside me and honked. I glanced over, and my glare quickly faded when the window rolled down and I saw the darkly delicious man sitting in the driver’s seat.

  “How about a ride, mo réiltín?”

  “Kane!” I squealed, running over and opening the passenger’s door.

  Climbing in, I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him hard. His scent wrapped around me as he folded my body against his. My feet still hurt and my head was thumping, but it no longer mattered. I hadn’t seen him in four days, hadn’t seen Ryder in two, and I’d missed them both so badly it had become a physical ache.

  For several long moments, Kane didn’t move. He just sat there, his thickly muscled body stretched over the center console, his face buried in my neck. He skimmed his nose up and down my flesh, leaving a trail of goose bumps that morphed into a shiver along my spine. When he reached my shoulder, right above the collar of my work T-shirt, he pressed an openmouthed kiss there.

  Little sparks zapped along every nerve ending inside my body, and a gush of burning heat pooled in my core, soaking through my panties. Biting the inside of my cheek, I attempted to hold back the pleased little whine that wanted free.

  I hugged him tighter, a dozen scenarios playing out in my mind that should have made me feel ashamed. Kane was my friend. In the short time I’d known him, he had been nothing but kind to me, never once crossing that invisible line that stood between us. The one my heart had marked in the proverbial sand so I remembered that no matter how desperately my body ached for Kane—no matter how thoroughly invested my heart had already become with him—it was wrong to want my maybe-boyfriend’s coworker and friend.

  Ryder and I hadn’t discussed what we were to each other. Once, right after I’d left the group home for good and moved in to the small one-bedroom Ry had helped me lease, he had casually mentioned that when I was ready, we needed to have a chat about our relationship. I’d taken that to mean he was ready for us to go from best friends to acknowledging the fact that we were soul mates.

  Seven weeks ago, I would have been thrilled to have that talk with Ryder. Anytime, anyplace. It wouldn’t have even needed to be a full-on conversation. A simple, “You’re my girlfriend, I’m your boyfriend” statement from him would have been just fine.

  But now that I’d met Kane, I was reluctant to broach the topic. All the things I’d imagined a relationship being, what I’d hoped for when I was younger, were so much different from the reality of what I actually wanted. Not just with Ryder. I wanted him—there was no question of that. It was that I wanted Ry and Kane.

  Which was wrong. And unfair to both of the men I cared about. But…

  I was starting to wonder if it was possible to have two soul mates. My heart kept whispering, yes, it was one hundred percent possible because I was already in love with Kane.

  In that same, mind-twisting, body-melting, heart-racing way that I loved Ryder.

  It was hard to put a label on what Ry and I were to each other. Maybe-boyfriend was about as close to a description I could come up with for him. He texted me at least ten times a day. Always starting my morning with a “Have a good day, little star,” and ending it with “Sweet dreams, Vega. Shine bright for me tonight. Love and miss you.”

  He was forever finding reasons to touch me when we hung out. Holding my hand for no reason, brushing my hair back from my face, giving me a flirty tap on the ass when he walked behind me. But he hadn’t kissed me yet. I’d figured that once I’d turned eighteen and finally left the group home where the rules were military-strict, there would be nothing to hold him back. But if anything, he seemed more restrained in his caressing touches now than before I’d become a legal adult.