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PROLOGUE

6 Months Ago

Alex

It was July twelfth, a little over six months ago, that I’d held my wife of seven hours in my arms…dead. Her lifeless eyes staring blankly beyond my gaze. Her white dress drenched in blood where she’d been shot through her heart and stomach. Rage like I’d never experienced had coursed through my veins, leaving room for nothing else.

Gideon, my boss, had captured two of Mila’s brothers and Benito Calvern, three men responsible for her murder. Lev had been killed by Gideon and while I wished he’d felt my wrath, I’d moved past it.

For six months I’d gone to the crate the three men had been held in, and I’d made them feel my loss with my fists, knives, hammers, saws—anything and everything at my disposal.

I’d listened to their pleas until I couldn’t bear it. I’d removed their tongues, put them into a blender, and fed the bloody mixture to them. I’d killed them in inches, keeping them alive and waiting for my blood lust to be sated. Gideon had repeatedly brought in medical teams to make sure none of them died before I was ready.

Day in and out, I saw how Toni and Danny watched me. Stone-cold men grimacing as I tore flesh from Benito’s body, flinching when I gouged out all of their eyes. Toni looking away as I used a cheese grater on their skin. Nothing was too much, and nothing extinguished the fire of hate that burned in my soul.

Last night I’d realized I had no more to give, and I’d ended it…them. I’d felt numb as I’d driven to Gideon’s home to tell him it was done. That numbness was better than the pain but as soon as he embraced me, it was as if the doors had opened, and it all came rushing back. I’d fallen apart, and he’d held me through it.

Now, as I stood in his shower, watching the flaking blood of Ivan, Mikhail, and Benito swirl down the drain, I nearly choked on my hate. Mila and her parents had been killed by the Bratva and Benito Calvern. The pakhan had given the order because rules had been broken. She wasn’t supposed to marry me, and the minute Mila had said, “I do,” the pakhan had ordered his soldiers and associates—or boyeviks and shestyorkas, as they referred to them—to turn my wedding into a massacre.

Seventy-two people killed or injured. Family, friends, and those there to celebrate love slaughtered because of a stupid rule. I pounded my head against the tiles. I didn’t understand. Why in all the time Mila and I had been together, had her brothers or parents never explained what would happen if we went through with the marriage? I was sure Gideon could’ve talked to the pakhan, brokered some deal, anything. This could have been avoided, and I could have been in bed with Mila in my arms instead of her in the ground.

I shut the water off, wrapped a towel around my waist, and stepped out of the shower. The bathroom was thick with steam, my skin flushed red from the hot water. There was nothing but anger. A fleeting thought whispered through my brain, and I wondered if this numbness was how Penn always felt since he wasn’t able to feel pain or fear. I shook that thought away and wiped my hand across the mirror.

A man stared back at me, but I didn’t recognize him beyond the monster that lurked behind his eyes. A monster who wanted the pakhan to hurt, beg, and die. Gideon had promised I’d have my vengeance, so I needed to be patient. I really hoped I could be.

I dressed in borrowed clothes of Penn’s—maybe Gideon’s, I didn’t know or care. As much as I didn’t want to leave the bathroom and face anyone I knew, I couldn’t stay in here all day. I reluctantly opened the door and padded downstairs, where voices echoed through the open-planned first floor.

Gideon, Penn, and Danny were all in the living area, coffees in hand, talking. I’d slept on the couch the night before, but there was no evidence of it. I must’ve made a noise, because all three men turned toward me in perfect unison.

The silence was uncomfortable, but I wasn’t sure what to say. They knew what I’d done to Benito, Ivan, and Mikhail, and I was sure they were disgusted with me.

“Coffee?” Penn offered as he made his way to the kitchen, not letting me respond.

My gaze flickered to Gideon, who was regarding me with a sympathetic expression. I’d cried and come apart last night, something I’d never wanted my boss to see. Unable to meet his eyes any longer, I moved to Danny.

His blue eyes were unreadable as he stared back at me. His curly blond hair wasn’t styled like it usually was, and his clothes were rumpled. I gathered he’d stayed here last night as well. He rarely left me alone—always close, watching, and for what? To make sure I didn’t off myself or do irreparable damage outside of the crate?

“Here you are.” Penn handed me a mug. I took a sip. Perfect, just how I liked it.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“How’d you sleep?” Gideon asked. I didn’t want to do this small talk.

“How long until the pakhan is in front of me?”

Gideon sighed. “Alex, I promised you he would be, but the timing has to be right. You don’t take out the head of the Bratva by waltzing into his home and shooting him. He’s well guarded. I also need to figure out what faction he’s a part of, which Toni is elbow-deep in finding out.” He took a step closer to me. “I need you to trust me.”

I did trust Gideon. He blamed himself for what happened, but it wasn’t his fault and I didn’t have the spoons to make him feel better about it.

“I want to be involved in everything.” I’d never made demands of Gideon, but this was different. My life had been over the moment Mila’s was, and the pakhan’s was now forfeit. Dead man walking, just needed to locate him.

“You will be.”

I sipped the coffee and nodded. “Great, what’s first?”

“Alex.” Danny rubbed the nape of his neck, something he did when he felt unsure about something.

“What?”