Prologue 1
One Year Ago
I look at the bloodied man kneeling before me, his face swollen and grotesque, one eye bulging out of its socket. He tries to whimper out the answer to a question I’ve been repeating for the last twenty fucking minutes, but he can barely form words since I cut out his tongue.
Growing impatient because I have somewhere to be, I pull out my gun and shove it into his mouth, cracking and breaking a few of his teeth when I do.
“Let’s try this one more time,” I tell him, pushing the barrel down his throat until his gag reflex kicks in and he is forced to breathe through his nose, which he struggles to do because I broke that too. “Why were you following her?”
I only know this because I’ve been following her as well. Seems Alexandria Rossi has caught the attention of several interested parties, Declan Levine included. That’s why I’m here.
The guy moans something and I hold up a finger, telling him to wait. With brute force, I yank the gun out of his mouth, breaking more teeth. The man coughs and splutters as he drags in much-needed air. Two incisors dribble down his chin in a river of blood.
“I’m waiting,” I tell him, tapping my gun to my thigh.
The backroom we’re in at the club is dark and smells of cleaning supplies. It was the most secluded place I could find when I caught him creeping through the back entry door to the club. No one would be able to hear him scream back here over the loud bass of the music blasting throughout the place. I hate fucking nightclubs. But this is where she is. It’s also where I followed this asshole to. He’s been stalking her for about a day now.
“Mister… Rossi… sent… me,” he chokes out.
Shit. Declan isn’t going to like hearing about that.
I consider my next move while torquing the silencer for my gun. “Thank you,” I tell him and pull the trigger. A neat, round hole appears on his forehead, blood oozing out. His eyes roll just as his head lilts to the side.
Even though I’m wearing gloves, I wrap the dead man’s hands over the handle of my weapon just in case. There’s an air vent on the floor that I’m able to loosen and toss the gun inside. Nobody can shoot themselves in the head and then hide the weapon afterward. However, I’m always careful not to leave my prints behind. Call me paranoid. I have to be in my line of work.
And because I feel like it, I open a couple of bottles of concentrated bleach I find on the floor and pour their contents down his throat and over his face. I don’t envy whichever unlucky bastard happens to find him first.
Silently opening the door to the storage room, I make sure the coast is clear before exiting. After a quick check of my appearance in the men’s restroom, I take off and tuck my gloves into my pocket and make my way back to the main area where the bar and the dance floor are located.
Within seconds of sidling up to the end of the bar, one of the bartenders, a fuck-me brunette with voluptuous, ruby-stained lips, appears and takes my drink order. My eyes briefly travel over her pushed-up tits trying to escape the tank top she’s wearing before I tell her to bring me a Quöllfrisch.
While waiting for my beer, I scan the crowd forher. I know she’s close. I canfeelher.
Dance clubs aren’t my scene for many reasons. The mass of sweating bodies and the smell of cloying perfume mixed with sex pheromones. The godawful thump of techno dance music and strobing lights that are quickly giving me a fucking migraine. The glazed, euphoric faces of those high on whatever fad party drug is being passed around. But I didn’t come here for any of that.
The bartender places my drink on the bar top in front of me. I casually take a swallow while trying to find my quarry in the middle of the crowded dance floor. A white strobe of light flashes, illuminating everything for a brief second, and there she is. My attention locks onto Alexandria Rossi. The woman I was sent to Switzerland to find.
My eyes compulsively track Alexandria’s every movement. How her dress molds to her body. How she sensuously slides her hands up the column of her slender neck. How she lifts her mass of long, blonde hair damp with sweat, away from her heated skin. How she tips back her head and closes her eyes as her hips gyrate to the beat of the music. How her plush lips part slightly as she gets lost within the throngs of people. Alexandria Rossi is a fucking goddess, long-legged with luscious curves on a tight body made to sin.
Unfortunately, the woman, who became my instant obsession from the moment I saw her three days ago, is an assignment; a job I was sent to execute by my boss, Declan Levine. For the past several days, I’ve followed her, watched her, shadowed her every step. I know Alexandria keeps to herself. She loves to go for long hikes on the nature trails close to her boarding school. She recently graduated but is still residing in the school’s dormitory, and she has one friend, Tessa Goodwyn. I’ve already sent Declan information about Tessa. She has certain skills that I think he would be interested in.
I’ve also become familiar with Alexandria’s habits and routines. The husky, melodic sound of her voice. Every nuance of her facial expressions. You can learn so much about a person in just three days’ time. And right now, I know she’s hurting. I can see her pain and her anger seeping out of her pores with every sway of her hips. Her brother Kellan was buried today.
Yesterday, I listened in on the phone call she received from one of her father’s men, threatening her not to return home for her brother’s funeral. From my phone, I watched the feed from hidden cameras I placed around her room, as she destroyed every belonging and piece of furniture in a fit of rage. I heard her anguished cries and saw her tears. I listened to the words she spoke to her dead brother. Her promise for revenge. Alexandria didn’t come here tonight to have fun or to let loose; she came here to forget. And to plan.
My time with her is coming to an end. Declan wants me back tomorrow.
Finishing the rest of my beer, I place it on the bar on top of the modest cash tip I leave for the bartender. Never taking my eyes off Alexandria, I stroll onto the dance floor. Every synapse in my body is firing the closer I get to her. Her back is turned to me, and she doesn’t notice me at first. Not until she turns around and accidentally knocks into my chest.
“I’m so sorry,” she says loudly over the music.
Jesus, she’s fucking gorgeous as she gazes up at me with those light violet eyes.
“No need for apologies,” I assure her. Bending down to her ear, I let my breath skate across her flushed skin and notice how goose bumps erupt along her neck and shoulder. “I’m Liam.”
Alexandria seems to consider me for a long time. I wish I could crawl inside her head, see what she’s thinking. Can she tell I just tortured and killed a man mere moments ago? Does she see the blood that mars my soul and the scars that crisscross my hands? Does she sense that I’m the weapon that Declan Levine wields, her father’s enemy?
I watch Alexandria’s expressive face, and my heart rate kicks up when I see her make a decision.
