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I put my gun down and opened the folder. It contained a single blown-up photo of the tattoo in question: a black scythe with a hissing viper twisted around the handle.

My blood ran cold. There was only one organization whose members got inked with that specific tattoo.

The Brotherhood.

“Obviously, this complicates things,” Sean said. “At least now we know for sure the fire wasn’t an accident and that they’re after you. We understand their motive.”

I shut the folder and dropped it on the table.Do we?

My last bloody altercation with the Brotherhood happened almost thirteen years ago. We’d existed in uneasy mutual peace since then. They left me alone; I let them live.

So why the hell were they coming after me again after all this time?

“Not the exact motive,” Sean amended. He’d learned ASL after I hired him, so he understood me perfectly. “But we will figure it out. Have you received any unusual communication recently? Noticed anyone new or suspicious lurking around? Mail courier. Delivery person. Electrician. Anyone who fades into the background that could get temporary access to you.”

I shook my head. I was trained to look out for suspicious behavior. If I’d spotted something, I would’ve told Sean immediately.

“That’s what I thought, but I had to double-check.” Sean’s lips thinned. The Brotherhood wasn’t your average two-bit criminal operation. My head of security was worried, and I didn’t blame him. “I’ve already put together a plan to increase our security measures. Do you want me to put a detail on Willow too?”

Willow was my former right-hand woman and long-time assistant. She’d been my mother’s best friend, and after my parents died, she took care of me like I was her own son.

She’d retired earlier this year and moved to Oregon. Her health wasn’t so good anymore, and her daughter recently gave birth to her first grandchild. She wanted to spend more time with family. I’d respected her wishes and gave her a hefty severance package as a goodbye gift.

We still talked regularly, but we didn’t see each other as often as we used to. I hadn’t replaced her with a new assistant yet either; I didn’t trust anyone enough.

No. We don’t work together anymore, and she’s in Oregon. They won’t go after her.I paused, then added,Don’t change our hard security measures yet either. We don’t want to tip them off that I know.

Sean’s eyes widened. “We’ll be sitting ducks,” he argued. “Our current security is excellent, but against the Brotherhood…they could attack again at any minute.”

They could do a lot of things. But they haven’t.

Things had been ominously quiet since the fire. No attempted assassinations, no freak accidents. I’d started second guessing my instincts about the fire being intentional until Sean confirmed the Brotherhood’s involvement.

Knowing them, they were waiting for me to slide into complacency before they struck again. That gave me another month, perhaps more.

Like me, they were nothing if not patient.

Upgrade our soft security measures, including cyber and surveillance. We’ll play it off as part of our annual assessment. Also change our passcodes, locks, etc. But I do not want any visible additions to manpower.

Nothing would alert the Brotherhood more than additional guards around my house and offices.

“Understood.” Sean retreated to his lane, and we fired off another dozen rounds before we turned in our equipment.

No one blinked an eye when we entered the club’s main building. Sean only had access because he was my guest, but the other members were used to seeing him around. Even if they weren’t, they were smart enough not to question who I brought here and why.

The Valhalla Club was the most exclusive members-only society in the world. Some people were born into the privilege of membership; I’d fought and clawed my way in.

But I was here, and I’d landed the directorship of the club’s management committee. The position rotated between high-level members every five years, and I was nearing the end of my term. Nevertheless, I still had access to director perks including unlimited guest passes and near-free rein of the facilities.

I’ll find out what the Brotherhood wants.Sean and I passed a well-dressed trio on our way to the foyer. A visiting prince from Europe, the CEO of a telecommunications company, and an exorbitantly wealthy cosmetics heiress turned entrepreneur, respectively. They took one look at us and scurried down the hall.You deal with the suspect.

After Sean left, I took the elevator up to my office. Besides my extracurricular activities, I had my own company to run, as well as Valhalla business to take care of.

My head pounded as I poured myself a glass of Markovic vodka, neat. I tossed it back in one swallow.

It was only after I finished my third glass that I braved a look at the most hated part of my body.

Not the scars, not the burns, but the tattoo inked on my inner bicep: a black scythe with a viper curled around the handle.