You watch as your friend parks the car, your other friends piling out quickly as you watch the manor you’d all pulled up to, packed with partiers.

Your friends, your sweet, clueless friends, were oblivious to the crime that ran the large college town. Oblivious to the war happening for the previous decade and a half. Oblivious, to the fact that they’d just brought the child of the biggest traitor right to their enemy’s doorstep.

Your father was the betrayer. He’d been the don’s right-hand man and best friend for decades, until he’d been infatuated by the power and attempted to take it for himself. You were young, when you’d split, but old enough to feel the sudden loss of the family you’d grown up beside, old enough to question if you were really on the right side of this war.

But you hadn’t spoken to your “cousins” or their parents in years, and a chill ran down your spine as you recognize the house you’d spent your childhood in.