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PROLOGUE
ASH ROMINOV
JUNE - EARLY HOURS OF FRIDAY MORNING
Ipushed a shaky hand through my hair, took another deep breath, and tried not to notice the almost overpowering metallic smell of the blood saturating the floor. It had been a long night, and I was tired. I needed to get some sleep.
“I’m heading home, Marko,” I told my younger brother as I headed for the door.
“No worries, I’ll take out the trash,” he said, referring to the now-dead thief who lay at his feet wrapped in a body bag.
“I’m on clean up tonight,” Romi said as he prepared to hose the place down.
“Brill!” I raised my hand in a slight wave and left the room.
I showered, changed, and headed out to my car. Once inside, I pumped up the air con and the music. Heavy metal blared out at me along with the cool air as I drove down the long driveway towards the main road. This would keep me awake for the short drive to the city apartment, where I planned on crashing tonight.
My family owned a country estate on the outskirts of the small town of Harpenden in St. Albans, Hertfordshire. We lived there most of the time, but we kept a couple of apartments in the City for when we couldn’t manage the forty-minute commute or needed to entertain and wanted some privacy.
I needed to be up early for a meeting with the event coordinator in the morning to go over the final preparations for the opening of our new club on Saturday. After that, I had to check in with my friend Anton, who was providing extra security at the event, so I was staying in the City tonight.
Anton and I go way back. We went to school together. I was only nine when we moved to London from Russia, and I was nervous on my first day of primary school.
My dad had ensured we were given English lessons for almost a year before he decided to move to the UK, and while I was a quick learner, I hadn’t been quite fluent yet. My Russian accent was still pretty thick. I liked school when I was a kid, so I was worried about not understanding things and falling behind. I never expected to be bullied. That was a shock.
Back home, everyone knew who I was or, more importantly, who my family were, and nobody would have dared to bully me. In the UK, they didn’t know anything about me, so as the new guy in my year, the bullies figured they had found a new target.
Unlike now, I was small and slim for my age then. Shy and a bit nerdish, too, to be honest. So, getting pushed to the ground and having four larger boys looming over me demanding I give them money was unexpected.
I didn’t know what to do at first. I’d lain on the ground where I had fallen, looking up at my tormentor, my bottom lip trembling, fighting back the tears that threatened.
“Give it back,” I’d shouted as Peter fucking Johnson had torn my bag from my shoulder, and his red-haired friend tipped the contents all over the playground. The four boys just laughed and taunted me about my foreign accent. Peter kicked me when I tried to get up, and the red-head threw my empty bag at my head.
Then, an anger I hadn’t felt before grew from the pit of my stomach, and the shock of what was happening to me started to lift as another boy showed up. He was tall and blond, and he grabbed Peter by the back of his jacket and swung him around before slamming his fist into Peter’s stomach.
While the other three boys were momentarily distracted by the blond boy’s attack, I was spurred into action. I ran at the nearest one, the red-head, and shouldered him, took him down to the ground, and then hit him in the face as he fell.
When I looked up, I saw Peter on the ground also.
With their friends down, the other two bullies turned and ran off like the cowards they were. Peter and the red-head weren’t far behind as they struggled to their feet and ran off after them.
The boy who came to my rescue remained. He was a few inches taller and broader than me at that time. His dark blond hair was long on top with an unruly strand that fell into his blue eyes. I turned to look at him, and he smiled before we both burst into laughter.
“That was so much fun. We make a great team. I’m Anton, by the way,” he introduced himself, clapping me on the back and grinning; “Nice to meet you, newbie!”
“I’m Sashenka, but you can call me Ash,” I said. “Thanks for helping me out.”
“Anytime.” He smirked. “You are in my class, and I am supposed to be your class buddy, so I guess it is my job to help you and keep you out of trouble. Though I have a feeling you might end up getting me into plenty,” he chuckled.
From that day on, we were inseparable, and he’s been my best mate since. He was right. I did get him into plenty of trouble over the years, but he was not averse to getting me into plenty, too, that was for sure.
Even though he went away to fight in the military for a few years, we remained close. Now that he had come home and opened his own security firm, I knew I could rely on him to help keep my family safe. Anton wasn’t just a friend; he was one of my blood brothers, part of our Blood Brother pact, and one of the few people I could trust.
In a rare flash of emotion, I realised I was smiling at the memories. It felt strange. These days, I didn’t feel much of anything except rage and guilt. It must be the aftereffects of the adrenaline, I guessed. Still, feeling something else for a change was nice, even if I knew it wouldn’t last.
I sighed as I felt the darkness returning to encroach upon my brief moment of happiness. I tried to push it away by focusing on the road ahead and turned the music up even louder to drown out my inner demon as it reminded me of my failings.
I’d noticed my inner darkness taking over and leaving me spiralling out of control more often lately. It was getting more difficult to ignore and even harder to pull myself together when I was spiralling. But I kept trying. When I finally got my revenge, things would be better. I hoped.
