<p><strong>Chapter 1</strong></p><p><br></p><p>Sixteen months ago. The greatest shock didn’t come from walking up to a building stained with blood and tears, but from the cold and stark weather as snow drifted over the frozen ground. Why did anyone insist on living in a place where the air hurt their face? And where the fuck was the sun? The warehouse loomed in front of us as we left the rich, comforting warmth of the Ferrari. The massive structure might have blended in with the other abandoned commercial properties in the area, had it not been surrounded by an eerie feeling of death. Even in a graveyard for buildings, nothing could disguise the ghosts that lurked around Bellandi's famed warehouse. I didn't know that I believed in spirits, despite my mother's belief in the afterlife, but even I felt all the tortured souls who clung to this place where they had drawn their final breaths. It certainly didn't help that they'd probably choked on their own blood as they fought for air. An ordinary person might have wondered how Matteo conducted his wet work in such an obvious location without fear of repercussions, too lost in their grand illusions of being safe in their first world country, where crime couldn't happen to them and bad things only happened to strangers in the night. Most people were naïve enough to believe the police could ever truly be a threat to men like us. Then again, most people were fucking idiots. At my side, Calix ran a hand through his hair, looking just as aggravated as I imagined he had to feel. While fighting in Matteo Bellandi's war was a necessary duty born out of allegiance, nothing could stop the impatience that came with knowing only a ticking clock stood between him and the girl he'd pledged to marry walking down the aisle to another man. His rumpled suit was a stark contrast to the smooth lines of mine. In other circumstances, I might have reprimanded him to remember that people were always watching us and judging any imperfections they found. It was unnecessary to give them any more ammunition to work with. After a long flight—even in the comfort of my jet—and knowing that he was mere hours away from his Thalia? I mostly couldn't fault him for it. "You could have at least changed before we got off the plane," I argued, quirking a brow up when he groaned at me in response. "Need I remind you, Matteo Bellandi is my ally. He needs to be yours. You will be far more directly affected by his friendship than I will, given the proximity of Philadelphia to Chicago. Ibiza is an entire world away."He scoffed in response. One of the few men who dared to show such impudence in my presence. But Calix had come to Ibiza when he wasn’t yet a man, his family banished from the city they called home in a violent uprising by the other families that had once been friends. He quickly became the closest thing I had to a brother. "Right, because you don't have world domination on the brain," he said, falling into place behind me. I touched my hands to the front doors of the warehouse, probably taking my life in my hand as I grasped the knob and turned it. The heavy steel door heaved open with a groan, and I stepped into the vast, open space of the main warehouse. "Doesn't look like they're here, after all," Calix grunted, glancing around the room. I pressed a finger to my lips before pointing down to the trail of blood splatter that led to the back hallway. Pulling my cell phone from my back pocket, I dialed Matteo's number one more time, hoping to alert him to our presence before it led to a bloody standoff. The line connected as he finally answered my calls. "You're as bad as one of Simon's one-night stands today. Won't take a fucking hint. What do you want?" Matteo grumbled into the phone. The sound of a man's pained whimpers filled the background noise. It seemed we hadn't arrived too late to enjoy the fun. "Well, I suppose if I'm not wanted, I can take my men back to Ibiza," I drawled. "You're early," Matteo returned. As if I didn't know that. "Lorenzo indicated things were progressing faster than expected, and you might need assistance sooner. I live to please. Now, where are you hiding in your blood-soaked warehouse? I suppose we could play a game of hide and seek, so long as Ryker promises not to throw a hatchet at me when I win." "Freezer at the back," Matteo grunted, disconnecting the call.“You’re no fun,” I chuckled, glancing to Calix, who studied me with a demented smile. "Wonderful. Like Chicago in February isn't cold enough, now we have to go inside a fucking freezer," Calix grumbled as I made my way for the hall at the back. With the worn edges covered in rust, the freezer door didn't look capable of functioning. But sure enough, Matteo stood outside the door with one of his men, waiting. My eyes met Matteo's first, his gaze as hardened as mine. "It's good to see you, Rafael," he said. The man at his side widened his eyes, staring at me in shock for a moment before he snapped his face back into an expressionless mask. Not yet broken. If the mask needed practice, then his training hadn't been as thorough as what Matteo and I had lived. "You mean it's good to know you have reinforcements," I said, my voice lacking all inflection. Matteo was perhaps one of the closest things I had to a friend, but that didn't mean we were warm and fuzzy. We had a mutual understanding. We stayed out of one another's way and only offered support or opinions when necessary. He hadn't called and invited me to his wedding by any means. Though I had heard about it through the grapevine and been shocked. In our lives, women were a weakness. I couldn't imagine any single woman ever being worth risking my life for. "Mostly that. Just make sure your men behave while they're in my city," Matteo ordered, but there was no animosity to his tone. Our rules were fairly similar, though he was slightly more strict on protecting women. I didn't allow human trafficking in my organization, but I didn't protect people who weren't my concern either. "They know the drill," I returned, making my way to the freezer door. "Ryker's inside with his latest toy. You know how he feels about being interrupted." Matteo laughed. Calix took a step back, avoiding the doorway as I wrenched the door open and stepped into the freezer. The sound of something cutting through the air filled the space, the slight and nearly imperceptible whisper of Ryker's hatchet as it traveled through the space between us. I lifted my hand, catching it by the handle before it could sink into my shoulder. The wooden handle I held in my palm was stained with blood that had soaked into the porous surface over years of use, but fresh blood coated it where Ryker had gripped it to throw it at me. Ryker grinned at me, his face twisting maniacally as my face split into a matching smile. "You missed," I said. "One of these days," he said, wiping his hands on a rag and glaring at the blood caked beneath his fingernails. Calix and Matteo strolled into the room, sensing the foolish game, that would only stop when one of us was dead, had ended. Men like Ryker and I needed a bit of senseless violence in our lives. It had been nearly a week since I'd watched the life bleed from someone's eyes. Considering there were only two ways to make a man like me feel alive, fucking and killing, I desperately needed a fix. How fortuitous for me that a lovely bloodied meatsack sat in a chair, waiting for Ryker to go back to his torture session. "Who is he?" I asked, stripping off my suit jacket. Folding it neatly, I handed it to Matteo's man lurking in the doorway. "If it crumples, so will you," I warned him. He swallowed, nodding and pushing the freezer door closed to lock the other five of us within it. "Perhaps you would be liked more here if you didn't threaten the men," Simon barked from the corner. He always kept his distance from me. There again, he'd never been a fan of mine. "I'm uncertain what gave you the impression I want people to like me," I said back, stretching my lips over my teeth in the bastardization of a smile. He scowled at me, rolling his eyes to the ceiling in a move I'd killed men for in the past. Matteo glared at his bodyguard, one harsh look making the other man straighten his posture and disguise his hatred. Men took it so personally when you fucked their sister.</p>