Unholy Devotion - Hosie

Chapter 1

The Saltzman name wasn't forged in the heat of battle or the shadow of an empire built by bloodshed. No, the Saltzmans had learned early on that power didn't have to come with noise. They became powerful the hard way by surviving everyone who thought they wouldn't. It was a slow, calculated rise, built on information, logistics, money, and clean, quiet channels. They played the long game. No spectacles. No massacres. Because violence, they'd learned, drew attention, and attention drew enemies stronger than you.

The Saltzmans had adapted. They traded brutality for intelligence, guns for leverage, and fear for favors owed. They didn't rule with an iron fist, but with a sharp mind, a steady hand, and an even steadier network. They controlled ports without owning them, politicians without threatening them, entire cities without ever firing a shot. Respect had been their weapon. Not fear. For years, it had worked.

But respect was fragile. And the world had changed.

By the time Josie Saltzman came of age, everything she knew was shifting. The new syndicates no longer wanted subtlety. They wanted blood. They wanted spectacle. They wanted to see who ruled by how many bodies they left behind. They had learned from the Mikaelsons, their ruthless, violent rise had taught everyone what power really looked like. Fear was the currency now, and the Saltzmans had begun to run out of it.

Josie was raised to understand the nuances of the business. By twenty five, she had already assumed control of half the family's operations. She handled negotiations, smoothed conflicts, and calculated risks with precision. But she did it quietly, never raising her voice, never threatening. Josie convinced. She didn't need brute force. She didn't need bloodshed.

But listening wasn't the same as fearing. And fear was the glue that kept families like hers alive.

That night, as the Saltzman family gathered around the long dining table, the weight of what had been unspoken for months hung heavy in the air. Josie sat still, hands folded neatly in front of her, listening as her parents circled around the truth they were too afraid to voice.

"We can't hold the southern routes much longer," Alaric said, his voice laced with the weight of inevitability. "Not without protection."

Lizzie, ever the skeptic, paced restlessly. "Protection from who? We built this network ourselves. We don't need anyone."

Alaric let out a frustrated sigh, eyes narrowing. "Yes, we built it. But now, everyone wants it. And everyone has power we don't."

The words fell into the silence like lead. Josie didn't need to look up to know what was coming.

"We need an alliance," Lizzie said quietly, but the tone of defeat was already creeping in.

Alaric's frown deepened. "Every family worth aligning with wants something we can't afford to give."

Another stretch of silence, thick with a reality none of them wanted to accept. Then Caroline's voice broke through, calm and composed as ever.

"There is one family," she said, her gaze turning toward Josie, "that doesn't need what you have."

Josie's stomach tightened, a chill running down her spine. The name hung in the air like a curse.

"The Mikaelsons," Caroline said, her voice tinged with something Josie couldn't quite place. Something that felt too much like fear.

The room was still. Silent.

The Mikaelsons didn't rise quietly. They took what they wanted with violence and decisiveness, leaving no room for hesitation. Where the Saltzmans had negotiated, the Mikaelsons had conquered. Where others had hesitated, Hope Mikaelson had ended wars in a blink, without warning or mercy.