Looking out the tinted window of my black SUV, I thumb over the corner of the tattered postcard. “I wish it was…дорогая.”
Speaking that name almost feels blasphemous as I haven’t allowed myself to think of her often. But beneath this expensive suit, this cold-blooded stare, lies a broken man, something I never considered myself capable of.
I’ve endured the consequences of the many choices I’ve made throughout my life. But when she made a choice, when she chose the better man and ripped out my heart, those consequences weren’t so easily accepted.
Someone who was meant to be my prisoner, in turn, made me hers.
As I focus on the postcard’s picturesque landscape, it seems Willow and Saint are lost in paradise. The postmark says it was sent from somewhere off the coast of Italy, but I know Saint—he doesn’t leave tracks.
That bastard was a thorn in my side, but now that he’s gone, I realize what he was, and that was a friend. In light of our circumstances, I understand how ridiculous that sounds, but I respected him, and in his own way, I think he respected me.
But none of that matters because they’re in the past.
Eighteen months have passed, and although it feels like only yesterday when I laid my eyes on a woman who set my entire world on fire, it’s not.
Things have changed.
I have changed.
I carefully fold the postcard in half as the worn crease threatens to tear if I don’t handle it with care. This is the only thing I have left of Willow, and unlike when she was with me, I will keep it safe.
A tap on my window reminds me that I am obsessing over a postcard like a lovestruck дурак. Quickly placing it into my inner jacket pocket, I open the door and greet Pavel. He’s the closest thing I have to a friend even though I know when he looks at me, he’s reminded of everything I’ve done.
“Ready?” Pavel asks, scoping out our surroundings.
This deserted neighborhood is no stranger to illegal dealings, which is why I chose this location. A tortured scream and a gunshot ringing out in the dead of night aren’t uncommon occurrences.
Once upon a time, I ruled this city, but now, I’m forced to hide in the shadows. My past has made me hated by all. The good, the bad, and the in-betweens all want me dead. I’ve been labeled a traitor, and that’s because I am.
I happily sacrificed the lives of my “friends” because their spilled blood granted her freedom. Everyone can hate me, and I don’t care. I only seek forgiveness from one person. But it’ll never come.
Pushing such sentiments aside, I focus on the task at hand and what’s important—violence and vengeance.
My Glocks sit snugly in my shoulder holster as I’m now the one responsible for taking out the trash. But honestly, I like it. It’s the only time I feel like I’m in control once again. Stepping from the SUV, I button my suit jacket and reach into my pocket for a Cuban cigar. This calls for a celebration, after all.
I was knocked from my throne, and I won’t lie, I don’t like sitting at the bottom of the food chain, especially when the new “king” of this town is a worthless son of a bitch.
Cupping my cigar, I light it slowly, savoring the tobacco hit. It’s the simple things in life that give me great pleasure—a neat scotch, a good Cuban, and slitting my half-brother’s throat.
That night, eighteen months ago, we all lost something. Lives were lost as was love. As I can’t do anything to rectify the deaths of Ingrid, Zoey, and Sara, I live with their deaths on my conscience every single day.
But the only way I can ensure their deaths aren’t in vain is to find Serg Ivanov and deliver him the same fate. I killed his father, my stepfather, and I plan on doing the same thing to him. Twirling my pinkie ring, the one which once belonged to Boris Ivanov, gives me great pleasure knowing that tonight brings me one step closer to achieving this.
Pavel and I commence a casual stroll toward the abandoned warehouse. Even if someone is watching, no one will dare get involved. Pavel reaches for his gun the moment we enter through the back door. I, however, continue smoking my cigar. It’s all about the simple pleasures, remember?
It’s a warm night, and the sun has just set. There is