Prologue
Tristan
6 years ago …
I glance over my shoulder to check on Alyssa.
She’s in the living room taking off her shoes. She stands and looks around the little cabin like house we’ll be staying in tonight and lowers back to the sofa.
She’s scared.
I’m fucking scared too and that’s not going to help either of us.
Satisfied she’s not listening in on my conversation I continue talking to Gio, one of my head guards.
“Make sure the perimeters are secured.” I keep my voice low as I speak into the phone.
“Yes Boss. We’ve got men around keeping watch. They got here a few minutes before you arrived.”
“Good. I don’t want shit today. Not today of all days.” I can’t keep the strain out of my voice. It’s times like this when I remember as badass as I am, I’m human.
We all get the reminder we’re human when the shit hits the fan, and you realize there are some things you can’t control.
Like a mad man who’s after your wife, insisting he wants her body rather than the millions he was paid to release her from the debt her father owed.
I sigh and press the phone to my ear, releasing a shallow breath.
“I’ll be keeping watch Boss,” Gio replies.
I can hear it in his tone he knows how worried I am.
Weak.
Weakness and Tristan D’Agostino are words that should not be combined in the same sentence. They don’t fit together. I hate the word weakness with a vengeance. It reminds me of the other word no one from our world likes to feel.
Helpless.
“You call me at the first sign of trouble,” I order. “I mean it.”
“Yes Boss.”
I hang up the phone and shove it into my back pocket.
Gazing out to the night sky, I wonder if I did the right thing by coming here.
I rest my hands on the stone surface of the baroque balcony and look over the grounds of the cabin. I can’t see much. It’s pitch black and secluded. Perfect for hiding out.
It’s also close to where we need to be for tomorrow. Above anything else it’s supposed to be safe. That’s what I’m hoping for. Safety.
It’s just for tonight. I just don’t like to be out of my element when trouble’s on the horizon, brewing. I can feel it, sense it lacing through the fibers of reality.
The Circle of Shadows are a group of Bratva assassins led by the notorious devil Mortimer Viggo.
That is who wants my girl. Mortimer Viggo. I can’t even believe I’m thinking that man’s name. It’s synonymous with death.
He and his Circle of Shadows are like demons from hell who will stop at nothing to get what they want. Right now they’re on the hunt for my wife.
This shit shouldn’t be happening, not to my girl. She’s sweet and innocent and deserved a good day today. Not this.