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Prologue

Lev

Death is a ruthless bastard.

No one can fight it. Not even a cold-blooded monster like me.

Once it sinks its cruel, cold claws into your soul and claims you, there is no coming back.

The thought settles in my mind like it always does when I’m here, visiting the place I used to call home.

Leaning against the rough bark of the oak tree, I take a long drag on my Cuban cigar, still keeping my gaze fixed on the old manor house ahead.

Looks exactly as I remember—a fortress of tall windows, sandstone walls, and dark secrets that never came to light.

In the silver glow of the moon, the long vines of ivy crawling along the walls and windows look like veins. Nature’s attempt to bury the past, perhaps. Or a warning to those who venture here to stay away.

No one has lived in this house since the incident. The manor has stood empty all these long years. Dead.

Father never had the heart to sell it.

Neither do I.

He never said it, but I think he believed the souls of my mother and sister still resided here. Part of me believes it, too. People say souls cling to places with which they shared a deep connection. My mother and sister made their lives here.

And they died here.

Murdered. Massacred.

I’d like to think that, when my father took his last breath a few months ago, his spirit returned straight here to be with them. My old man was a hard-ass motherfucker who would have fought through heaven and hell just to see my mother again.

Maybe that’s why I came by tonight. To feel closer to them all while I wait for confirmation of what may be the missing piece from the night my mother and sister were taken from us.

Vengeance has always belonged to me.

I was there that night. A helpless twelve-year-old boy.

I saw it all, and they tried to kill me, too. But they failed.

I’m not helpless now.

I have waited far too long for the blood of my enemies, and I will never stop until it’s dripping from my fingers and painting the streets crimson. Not even God will have mercy on their souls when I’m through with them.

The sudden beep of my phone in my back pocket tells me I might finally get that wish.

I retrieve it and stare at the message on the screen from my brother, Aleksandr.

It contains one lone word.

Match.

A cruel smile pulls at my mouth.

Finally.

Now I know who must pay.

And I intend to collect every last debt.