Danny Torent's POV

"Not all of us are going to make it out of this mess alive," I say while looking away.

In this Empire, Death is as normal as rainfalls. When Death is near, Sam plays the part of the Grim Reaper.

I'm not ready to die, not before I get my answers.

"Well then," He smirked and turned back to look at the garden. "We better get ready."

Sam plays with the concept of Death as if he were a child with a new colouring set. I've always been fond of the colour red, but Sam thrives on its sight.

I've come in contact with many proud men, but Sam Griffin is the first I have seen that could back up his pride without needing firearms or an army.

It's a skill not many can acquire, but I want it. I need it.

I walk closer and stand next to him by the edge of the balcony, "What's the catch?"

He chuckled slightly, "What catch could there be, Daniel?"

"You have a thing for bloodshed, so I'm assuming that you have most of your cards planned out." I mumble, "So tell me, Sam, what is it that you plan to do?"

"You're going to be more descriptive with what you're getting at." He took a sip from his scotch, admiring the garden below us.

I scoff, "Well then, let's take a look at the list, shall we? We must catch your sister before she can bring us all to our knees. Caleb's mother wanders everywhere with your daughter's blood on her hands. Lastly, you have a granddaughter to train. Need I go on?"

He finishes his drink and slams the glass onto the handrails, "Let me let you in on a little secret. The reason that my predecessors gave the outlook of us being racists was beyond reasonable. The criminal list that I gave you and Peyton to view was the first generation of the Empire."

I had to grip the edge of the balcony to try and come to terms with what he was saying. So when they say that the British Empire is a nuisance to society and harbours criminals. They weren't being figurative. They were being practical.

"The first-ever Griffin and his band of friends were street fighters who wanted something more but a little less. They each had a bone to pick, be it with themselves, their families or society in general. They made a pact to protect their loved ones in the form of deals, taking in criminals and trying to turn them. When that didn't work, the one who was the bravest would kill them to make sure they didn't cause more havoc." He explained.

"I'm guessing the remaining people among that friend group had their last names as Reynolds and Wellington," I confirm what I read a few weeks ago.

The founding families were Griffin, Reynolds and Wellington.

He nodded, "The government noticed that the crime rate had dropped, and the streets were slowly becoming safer. They found the three vigilantes. Together they made a vow. The government would give them the resources they would need to keep the country safe when the security personnel couldn't. And that was how the British Empire came to be, three people trying to pick the pieces of their shattered lives together. After that, the trio made a bond, to ensure that they would rule and the rulers must be a direct descendant from them."

"Was there ever a time where one of them was a female?" I inquire.

"My father's mother was made to take over temporarily when his father got assassinated when he was in his mid-teens. The whole place was in chaos, but thanks to his comrades, the Empire survived that. I had no choice but to end the Reynold bloodline. A coup was set in place. If I have to sleep with both eyes open, I know it won't have to be under my roof." His tone took a rough edge.

"The only family I could trust was the Sandel. Which was why I agreed when Chole begged me to take care of her children. Admittedly, I don't trust Shane, but he has proven useful. Charlie has pulled her weight, therefore she is an asset."

A stiff silence came between the two of us to collect our thoughts

So many questions but no answers. The only people I knew that could answer them were standing right beside me, the other somewhere in Spain.

"So was it only because of Marcel's betrayal that you wiped off the Wellingtons?"

A sigh escapes his lips, "Yes." He pauses before raising his index finger, "I am a man that enjoys watching the life drain out of those that dare to defy me. My last killing spree was that night when I lost my greatest treasure. My daughter."

The wind picks up, and the trees around us move from side to side as the patrol teams walk underneath us. His eyes are once again trained onto the garden wall.

There it is. The Martyr bullshit that is pumping through the veins of all Griffins. They believe they can sacrifice everything to protect the ones they love safe. The sad part is that they turn themselves into monsters in the process, and I'd be dammed if I allowed Penny to become like that.

"So, how is your wife?" I bite the bullet.

Let me let you in on my little secret. Sam Griffin is a man that is hardly ever caught off guard; to say he was now sporting the deer caught in headlights look would be an understatement.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me well, Papa Griffin," I mocked.

I was going to enjoy this while it lasted.

"How is your wife, Rachael Griffin?" I asked again.

"Now, why would you ask that?" He countered.

I shrug, "As you said, we do this to protect the people we love. I feel Rachael hasn't returned the sentiment in a while now?"

He looked defeated but kept his gaze locked on the garden, "Your curiosity will get you killed before you get to knock Sandel's youngest spawn up."

Shifting the topic of conversation to something else is a smart move for a Griffin.

I follow his gaze to see a tall woman in the garden; her black hair is in a bun on her head as she picks some flowers.

When she gathered a bouquet, she turned to look in our direction, and like estranged lovers, l felt out of place intruding in their private conversation. It came to a swift end.

Penny walked into the garden from a door where she couldn't see Sam and me or Rachael. Charlie was by her side, holding a CD.

Rachael swiftly went into the cottage hidden behind the branches. Sam had a defeated look on his face when finally he looked at me.

"If I get Rachael to talk to you and Penny, do you promise to keep Charlie safe till I return from Spain?" I offer.

It's a long shot, but it's obvious that they are both hurting. It will take a miracle to get them to talk. Maybe after that, Charlie and I can start seeing eye to eye.

Sam smiled slightly; his piercing grey eyes twinkled as they scrunched at the edges.

"I'd be proud to call you my son one day." He remarked.

I smirk, "Who said we are not there yet?"

He extends his hand, and I shake it. "Deal."

I was surprised when he used that hand to pull me into a hug and clamp my back.

When we pull apart, I say, "I'm leaving for Spain in the morning. Anything else that I should know?"

"Give Charlie a kiss goodbye from me." Amusement coats his tone as he smirks.

"Here I was thinking, you weren't a cheater," I roll my eyes and fake gag.

"On a more serious note, trust Rae and be careful. They were our allies once, but one deal went south, and everything went down from there."

"Dare I ask why?"

He tsks, "Not my story to tell."

Just when I was starting to wrap my head around this, he came and confused me further.

This will be one interesting trip.

Does it all make sense now, or do I need to lose a few strings?

(Evil laughs)

Also, I apologise to my British readers, who may find it offensive, how I based the origin of the British Empire. I am well aware that is not how the Empire started, but this is a work of fiction.

Also, I didn't do my research correctly. So to clarify, Danny went to Spain, not Mexico. In case I miss it, please tell me.

Thoughts? Theories? Questions?