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Rinse, repeat. New day.
And I’m no better. Remember what I said about becoming what I hunt in order to take them down? If my handler knew about the shit I’ve done I would be ripped out of my deep undercover assignment and thrown under the prison for the crimes I’ve committed.
In my defense, I’ve never hurt an innocent so keep that in mind when it comes time for passing judgment.
I’m just biding my time to bury a bullet between Titan’s eyes and then I can walk away. When that day comes, I won’t flinch a muscle beyond my trigger finger.
You see, I’m not here because I have to be. I’ve tatted up and adopted the legend of John Hark to take down the scum of the earth to prevent him and his goons from creating more monsters like my father.
Depraved, murdering, abusive trash who rather beat on their families than sit down to a nice dinner.
I feel the burn of eyes boring into the back of my head as I make my way past the gathering room, library, and kitchen. All are filled with twitchy enforcers waiting for their master to bark his orders. Every last one of the armed men is wound tight over some new threat moving in on Titan’s territory. Random shootings and a few dead bodies are the extents of the encounters but it’s only a matter of time before the bloodshed cranks up and it’s an all-out war. Either way, the gray-haired old man is paranoid which makes everyone around him spooked.
I’m no fool and can read the signs. Before long New York City will fall to them—the Sons of Bratva Savages they call themselves.
I’ll have to move quickly and then those bastards can have the pickings I leave behind.
What has kept me here, lips zipped, doing Titan’s bidding for so long, you might ask?
The answer isn’t as simple as it seems. I pull the trigger too early; chaos and territory wars will break out. I’m not here to get innocent people killed.
One—When I reveal the real monster I’ve been hiding from everyone and kill Asena’s father it will ruin her. On that day she will find out who I truly am and revenge will consume her until she has my head on a pike. Call me soft but if it’s blood she’ll demand I want to make sure she’s old enough to understand the depths of the dark pit she’ll want to jump into.
Two—Before I take the head off the beast responsible for ruining my family and so many others, I want to make sure another head won’t regrow in its place. Asena is being trained to replace her father which makes her a prime target for a lot of people. Mainly Titan’s right-hand man. The Druid. Nasty fucker with far fewer morals than me. And that’s saying something. I need a plan to make sure he’s on the way out with Titan.
This leads me to number three.
Three—I have my orders. Secure a legal and justified kill. Same for the Druid. Then I can swoop Asena off to WitSec and kill her attempts at revenge if I’m lucky. And maybe even get lost along the way while all the big wig FEDs rip apart the Titan criminal empire.
Or so I can dream.
The burn Asena’s nails left across my back feed the beast in me and ground me to the here and now. I should turn around, throw her on the back of my bike and not kill the engine until the gas runs out.
But I’m not here to run away. I’m here to stop a killer. To ruin him the same way he did my family. With no remorse.
A mix of fury and rage creates a volatile pit of boiling poison in my gut. One wrong look from one asshole or another and I’ll start the war early. To hell with my orders and my handler.
At the core of my rage, the smiling face of Asena appears and the fumes of my hell settle.
Still wearing the scent of the princess, I pass under gracefully arched doorways and past priceless paintings featuring the work of artists who can only be bought off the black market. Pretty sure a few museums would love to get their hands on the stolen pieces.
Moving through the large, expansive rooms I come to a set of large wooden doors. Guards stand on either side dressed like they are either going to a funeral or having auditions for a remake of the Men in Black. Inside those neatly buttoned-up suit jackets are guns similar to mine. Only I’m a better shot and a quicker draw.
When they see me coming, one reaches up and gives the door a couple of hard raps.
“Enter.” The old man’s voice booms out, arrogant as ever. But there’s an underlying current of anger, too. Fuck. The tension between my shoulder blades doubles and both enforcers turn into my shadows as I step inside the king’s office.
The second my feet hit the black carpet, they reach in and grab my guns, disarming me.
I give them a cocky grin and let them have this round. Something is going on and if shit hits the fan, I won’t be long without a weapon in my hands. So I’m not worried. Let them think they have the upper hand. For now.
From across the room, two faces turn to watch, their eyes hard and cold.
I halt abruptly at the sight of a man with a familiar bald head and bulging gut sitting across from Titan. The clogging stench of his cheap cologne burns my nostrils.
I grunt.
“Keep moving,” one of the enforcers mutters behind me and I send him an icy look that has the man retreating. His buddy, feeling braver, puts a fat sausage-fingered hand on my shoulder and shoves me deeper into the large office.
