Ace of Spades

For thirty-two years, I was his devoted right hand man. Until loyalty stopped being enough.

I built Algerone Caisse-Etremont’s mercenary empire from nothing. Cleaned up his messes, silenced his enemies, buried his secrets.
All except one.
The betrayal he never saw coming. The one that shattered everything.
Now he looks at me like I’m a stranger wearing a familiar face. Keeps me close because he needs me, distant because I haven’t earned forgiveness. I’d drop to my knees and beg if he gave me the chance.
He won’t. Not yet.
Then someone tries to buy me.
Our biggest rival thinks he can make the right offer. Like thirty-two years of loyalty has a price tag.
He’s wrong about the money.
But he’s right about one thing—I can break.
And the moment Algerone’s hands close around my throat, the moment he finally takes what we’ve spent decades pretending didn’t exist, I see it clearly:
I was never his employee.
I was always his.
And I’ll kill for the right to prove it.