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The man I've become bears little resemblance to the boy who made passionate promises in a moonlit garden.
But some things haven't changed.
I still protect what's mine. And Ava...Ava has always been mine.
The last PI I hired found nothing but old school records and a death certificate for her parents from seven years ago. Car accident. No foul play. No trace of Ava and her brother.
"Another whiskey, Boss?" Tomasso asks quietly.
I shake my head, exhaustion creeping in. "Clear my schedule for the morning," I tell Tomasso, rising from my seat. "I'll be with Angela."
He nods, already typing on his phone. "The Colombians wanted to meet about the dock situation?—"
"Push it to next week." I straighten my cuffs, a tic I display when I need to focus, to calm down. "Family first."
The irony of those words isn't lost on me. Family first—it's what my father always preached, and what got him killed in the end.
Now here I am, running an empire I never wanted, protecting a sister who deserves better than this life, and chasing the ghost of a girl who was never really mine to keep.
As I move through the club, my employees nod respectfully, their fear mixed with something like reverence. They know what I'm capable of—they've seen the monster I can be. But they also know I protect my own.
It's a delicate balance; one I've spent years perfecting.
In my office, I pour one final drink, standing at the window that overlooks Chicago's glittering skyline.
This city belongs to me now; every shadow and secret, every deal and death.
I've built something my father never could: an empire run on precision instead of passion, on strategy instead of strength alone.
But for what? Power means nothing when the one thing I truly want remains out of reach.
My reflection stares back at me in the dark glass—expensive suit, carefully styled hair, the mask of control I wear so well. I’m nothing like the wild boy who kissed a girl in a garden and promised her forever. But underneath this polished and controlled veneer, that boy still burns, still hungers, still dreams of dark eyes and defiant smiles.
I pick up a picture of Ava from all those years ago that I’ve always kept tucked in my wallet. I wonder what she looks like now, all grown.
"I told you I'd follow you to the ends of the earth, Ava," I whisper to the night. "Did you think I was lying?"
The monster in me stirs, awakening from its restless slumber. Soon, very soon, I'll find her. And this time, I won't let her disappear.
This time, she'll stay exactly where she belongs.
With me.
CHAPTERONE
Ava
The first thingthat everyone notices about me is that I'm beautiful. This is good, because it helps me to swindle them out of money and information.
I'm a con artist, by birth and trade, so being pretty is a very helpful addendum to my other skills. That doesn't mean, however, that I don't often wish that I was average-looking and from a normal family.
Standing in front of the dingy motel mirror, I line my eyes with practiced precision. Every stroke is deliberate—my makeup is another weapon in my arsenal. My hands don't shake anymore when I prep for a job. They haven't done that since I was seventeen.
Tonight's role: an aspiring exotic dancer.
It's not exactly a stretch. I actually worked as one in Miami last year, though the Fiori family doesn't know that particular detail about my past.
"You better not be bailing on me!" Tony shouts through the bathroom door, his teenage angst bleeding through the cheap wood. My little brother, perpetually pissed at the world. Can't really blame him.