Page 1 of No Greater Oblivion

1

A YEAR CHANGES EVERYTHING

Dahlia

New York City

The Present

Blood stains the pearlescent bed of freshly fallen snow beneath my feet.

Rian O’Neil disarms the man who’s been following us for the last several blocks and tosses the gun in my direction. I check the magazine while Corey and Owen, Rian’s security detail, catch up to us.

“One of Li’s guys?”

Rian lets out a ragged breath and drags his thumb across his bottom lip, smearing the blood there. “I thought you handled it?”

“I am handling it. And you know what, I’m a little offended Li sent a hitman after me. I thought we were better friends than that.”

He clenches his jaw at the bite of sarcasm in my voice. Keeping his knee between the man’s shoulder blades, Rian has the brunette in an difficult position limiting his mobility.

“Dead?” Rian asks. “Or alive?”

I sigh. I was so hoping we’d have a nice evening.

“Dead.”

The brunette barely manages a strangled cry before Rian breaks his neck.

“I’m starting to wonder if you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

“I’m worth more than you could ever amount to in a thousand lifetimes.” When Corey and Owen finally reach us I gesture toward the body. “Get rid of it. It’s too close to my house.”

When I made the decision to come home a year ago, it was supposed to be a new beginning for me. Far away from the dangers of Alejandro’s life style, the threat of the twelve families, and Sandro’s relentless assassination attempts but it seems the perils have followed me here from Barcelona. For a moment, I wonder if I should’ve ever left at all but I smother the thought almost as soon as it takes form. Another day in that house and I think I would’ve lost my mind completely. I may have saved myself but it meant leaving everything—and everyone—behind. Including Alejandro.

During the scuffle, Rian’s tie came undone so I reach out to adjust it and smooth my hands over his wrinkled lapels. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone to place a call.

“How far are you?” He pauses. “There’s been a change of plans, bring the car around.”

He ends the call just as I say, “And here I thought a romantic stroll through the park would take the edge off.”

Rian isn’t amused but he rarely is. I often wonder what I see in him but then I remember how good he is with his mouth and that usually dispels any previous doubts.

We leave Central Park and step out onto Fifth Avenue where a flurry of cars whizz past us. New Year’s Eve was always my favorite holiday—it’s why Karina and I used to take our trips at the end of the year. Most people find the idea of reinventing oneself every New Year silly, but to me, it’s hopeful. No one needs an excuse to start over, be better, or live differently. But it is encouraging to have one. New beginnings were once a source of joy for me but now they are a necessity of life.

In order to survive, I must constantly reinvent myself—shedding one skin and slipping into another. A year ago, that transformation nearly killed me. Today, it’s only made me stronger.

Killian arrives in a black Porsche and cuts off the M1 in the bus lane when it tries to make a drop off. The bus driver honks like a maniac but Rian ignores him as he opens the back door and waits for me to get in. Then he takes his time walking around the back of the car to enter through the other side. By the time Killian pulls out of the spot, the bus driver is flipping us the finger with both hands.

Rian says, “When we get there, let me do the talking.”

I frown. “Why? I’m the one with the gun.”

“A gun you should’ve never had possession of to begin with.”

“Let’s not get hung up on details, shall we?”

Rian cuts me a look but it’s difficult to take him seriously when his eyes are so sky blue. There isn’t an ounce of malice in them and they’re probably the only thing that loan an ounce of humanity to him. Otherwise, the brutality of his hard, masculine features complemented by the sheer size and build of his six-foot frame make him appear almost monstruous. A quality not at all helped by the ink on his skin.