Page 15 of His to Break

That was all that Arkady needed to know about the situation. Ryker swallowed hard, unwilling to reveal that he'd had them in his grasp — and especially how Caleb had escaped with the boy.

"Fan-fucking-tastic!" Arkady replied, his voice lighting up. "You truly are the best in the business. I knew I could count on you."

The praise settled heavily on Ryker's broad shoulders. He pushed forward, his fingers tightening around the railing. "About Colby…" He hesitated for a moment before pressing on. "I need a clear answer. What do you want done with him?"

"Kill him," Arkady responded without missing a beat. "Obviously."

Ryker's blood ran cold. "That was fast."

"Any father would do the same. Any lion would protect his pride. He's my blood."

A lion would probably know he had a cub before it was up and running around...

With a deep breath, Ryker silenced his inner turmoil, allowing the cold steel of determination to wash over him.

After all, he was just a weapon. "Understood."

"Good," Arkady said, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. "I look forward to seeing you soon — both of you."

The line went dead, leaving Ryker alone with the crashing waves and the conflicted storm brewing within him.

The sun cast a golden glow over the boardwalk, its warmth caressing Ryker's face as he stood there, lost in thought. The laughter of children chasing seagulls mingled with the rhythmic lapping of waves against the shore, creating a symphony that both soothed and taunted him. Families strolled by, their fingers intertwined and eyes alight with joy. It was a vision of domestic bliss that seemed so foreign to his world of darkness and deceit.

"Blood, huh?" Ryker muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed on a young father hoisting his son onto his shoulders.

He recalled the sincerity in Caleb's eyes when he had sworn to protect Eli with his life, the raw intensity of his devotion unmistakable.

And yet, Arkady claimed ownership of the boy simply because they shared the same blood coursing through their veins.

What made a family into a family? Bond, or biology?

He watched a father bend down to scoop up his giggling child. They looked happy. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he leaned against the wooden railing.Is that what happiness looks like?

The scuffing of his worn boots on the wood provided a rhythmic accompaniment to his inner musings as he pushed himself upright, striding away from the picturesque scene.

Not for me.

I'm no hero, after all.

I'm just a goddamn tool.

He'd never fit into the picture-perfect world that seemed to surround him. The idea of a white picket fence and two-point-five kids seemed laughable when held up against the stark reality of his own existence.

At least I know my place.

But even as he thought the words, he couldn't suppress the gnawing ache deep within him — the quiet desperation that came from a lifetime spent on the fringes, always looking in, but never quite belonging.

"Time to get back to work," he told himself, shaking off the melancholy that threatened to engulf him.

He had a job to do, and it was one that he excelled at.

Even if it had left him with nothing.

Chapter eight

Calebcouldrun,buthe couldn't hide.

Not from him.

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