Prologue It’s the silence that sickens me. Enfolding me, choking me, threatening to end my life and free me from this madness. I can almost count every beat of my heart as I wait for it. The sense of a storm building that many will not survive. It’s always there, a twisted promise of damnation because of him. The scream shatters the silence as it always does. Piercing, terror filled and tortured. Logan raises his eyes to the heavens as if there is any help there. There is no one to help the poor unfortunate woman who has captured Wesley’s attention tonight. My nails pierce the skin on the palm of my hand as I try desperately to focus my mind on anything other than the horror unfolding behind the closed door. I wish I could help her. I want to set her free, but that is out of my control for now. A gunshot carries through the stone walls and Logan looks to the floor. My own eyes raise to the heavens in a silent prayer for her soul. She’s at peace now. I must be grateful for that, at least. Before I can catch my breath, a slight movement in the corridor catches me off-guard and on autopilot I draw my weapon. Logan is still looking at the floor and doesn’t react quickly enough, and as the shot rings out, I dive for cover as it hits the stone beside my head. More gunshots follow as I roll to the side and take aim. I can’t be certain how many gunmen there are and fire at will, covering Logan, who is flat on the floor. Has he been hit? Is he dead? I almost pray for that myself, but the will to survive kicks in and my bullets find their mark. As the gun smokes in my steely grasp, I pause and wait for more to follow. Nothing. Endless silence where death enters the room and admires a good day’s work. I crawl across to Logan and spin him on his back. The gaping wound in his chest tells me he doesn’t have long. The door remains closed as usual and as he gasps for air, I put pressure on the wound and whisper, “I’ve got you, Logan. Stay with me.” His hand reaches out and grasps my jacket in a surprisingly strong move and he pulls me down to his rasping lips.  “Promise me you will find Vivian Clark and Iris Young.” “What are you talking about?” I whisper my confusion and his eyes are wide and frantic as he gasps, “They will set you free.” “I’m sorry man, who are they?” I’m confused and wonder if he’s delirious and as he drags his final breath he whispers, “Your mother.” As his vacant eyes stare at me no more and he faces his sins, I am left with more questions than answers. My mother, he said. I never knew I had one. For a moment I stare at my uncle’s consigliere as if I’m dreaming. Then I glance past him and see the gunman on the floor, who appears to be fresh out of high school. Carefully, I lower Logan to the ground and close his eyes, whispering a prayer for God to have mercy on his soul. Despite everything, he was a good man and one of the few I admired. Then my attention reverts to the gunman and as I peer closer, my heart twists when I see the youthful face of a kid who was sent to do a man’s work. The door opens behind me and my uncle shouts, “What the fuck is going on? Is that Logan?” He sounds more angry than grieving and I snap, “The kid shot him.” Wesley heads across and kicks the corpse of the young man so it rolls on its back and spits in his face, saying cruelly, “Fucking amateur.” “I don’t think Logan would agree with that.” I glare at my uncle, who doesn’t even have the decency to pay his respects to his loyal consigliere, and he snaps, “Looks to be the girl’s boyfriend. I was warned she had one.” I stare at the dead body and my heart breaks for him. He tried to save her, not knowing it was a fool’s errand. “How do you know?” I’m curious about that and Wesley shrugs, “She told me he would come for me, right before I fucked her to death.” It would be so easy right now. I am almost tempted to finish the job and place a well-deserved bullet right between his eyes, but I’m aware it would only gain me a moment’s satisfaction before my own life was ended in a far more brutal way. Wesley Vasquez has the best protection there is courtesy of Massimo De Lauren. His best friend, brother from another mother, and his closest ally in the world. If I dispose of one, I will face the other and even though it’s certain that time will come, it’s not now. Wesley takes his own gun and delivers a parting shot through the kid’s skull and laughs as his brains redecorate the stone walls around us. Then he looks around and sighs. “Fucking Logan. He should have seen that coming. You sleep, you die.”  Then he says almost as an aside. “He should have been better than that.” I cast my eyes on the most loyal servant my uncle ever had and feel betrayed on his behalf. He doesn’t deserve to be dismissed as somehow at fault for this, and I say evenly. “Shall I call the clean-up crew?” “No need.” Wesley almost looks  irritated as he growls, “We’ll torch the place. Explain it as a freak accident. Nobody will ever discover we were here, anyway, and if they did…” He laughs wickedly, “They won’t live to ask their dumb questions.” As Wesley heads back down the hall to the boiler room, I am almost tempted to send him to hell in his own inferno, but Logan has rattled me. Two names. Why two and who are they? There’s something in the back of my mind that tells me I need Wesley alive until the mystery is solved and so I hold those names in my memory like the most precious cargo because one of them belongs to my mother and it’s a meeting that’s been a long time coming. * * * Later that night when the house sleeps, I pull out my cell and text the man I trust with the two names that are burning a hole in my sanity. If there is anything I need to know about them, I trust Baron to deliver the information to my eyes only. He is one of five men I trust with my life and the only ones who are in this madness with me. We are five brothers by choice and one by earning our respect. Baron always sat on the edge of our group in college and yet when it counted, pledged his loyalty to Club Mafia. For some reason, Baron knows shit and is the perfect man to trust with my newfound knowledge. I could go to Malik as we always do, but for some reason Baron’s was the first name to come to mind. There is something deliciously sinister about our tight-lipped friend and just for now, I want to keep this news from the others. As I wait, I wrap the shadows around me of the early hours and feed off them. This is the time I love the most. Alone and free, at least until the dawn breaks and hell wakes up for another hit on my soul. I’ve always loved solitude. It’s where I am most at peace and as I wash the grit of the day from my memory, only one word lingers like the purest sensation on my tongue. I have a mother. But which one is she? It could be an hour or even three, but the text returns quicker than expected. Does that man never sleep? A wry smile twists my lips as I sense an affinity with our secretive friend. Always there, watching from the shadows and offering words of advice when needed. However, only two words are contained in this text, and they create more questions than answers. Dimitri Sullivan I sigh and silently curse my enigmatic friend. Fuck Baron. Why can’t he speak in sentences like any normal person? Now I have three names and I’m none the wiser, so with a frustrated sigh, I turn to my preferred search engine to help me. As I read the information from the mighty web, I sense an excitement stirring deep in my core. It turns out that was the only name I needed, and my mission is set. First stop Club Mafia to check in with my brothers and then a plane bound for Seattle and a very interesting conversation at the home of Dimitri Sullivan.