"The darkness that surrounds us cannot hurt us. It is the darkness in your own heart you should fear."

  — Silvia Hartmann

  The Syndicator’s office. A fortress in the heart of a city that thrived on blood and sin. From the outside, it was sleek, modern—another high-end corporate building meant to fool the world. But step inside, and you’d see the truth.

  A kingdom built on suffering.

  I had walked these halls too many times to be surprised. The air reeked of expensive cigars and stale whiskey, the walls soaked in whispered deals and silent screams. I passed men in suits, their voices hushed as they traded power like currency. Women, empty-eyed and broken, clung to whatever sliver of survival they could grasp. And then there were the guards—cruel, smug, knowing they would never be the ones in chains.

  I kept walking.

  Xavier’s office was at the end of the hall. I knocked once before pushing the door open.

  What greeted me wasn’t shocking, but it was still disgusting.

  Xavier stood near his desk, zipping up his pants. A girl—sixteen, maybe seventeen—adjusted her dress with shaking hands. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  She didn’t have to. I already knew what I’d see.

  I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Seriously? Ten in the morning?”

  Xavier smirked. He always smirked. His balding head gleamed under the office lights, his thin lips stretching over crooked teeth. He had the face of a fox but the soul of a snake.

  He waved a dismissive hand, and the girl bolted.

  Once we were alone, he sank into his chair, looking at me like I was an amusing little thing that had wandered into his den. “How are you doing?”

  I gave him a flat look. “Just tell me about the mission. We both know you don’t give a shit about how I’m doing.”

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  His chuckle was pleased, as if my lack of pretense was entertaining. “That’s why you’re my favorite, Mira. You understand how this world works.”

  He reached into his drawer, pulled out a file, and slid it across the desk. “Your next target.”

  I picked up the file, flipping it open. And for the first time in years, my breath caught.

  A photograph. A dimly lit club. A gathering of powerful men, guns sitting casually beside glasses of whiskey. And at the center of it all—

  Theo.

  Bored, careless, lounging in his seat like he was born to rule over lesser men. The others looked serious, wary. But Theo? He looked like he owned the place.

  Nine years.

  It had been nine years since I last saw him. And now, he was back.

  I schooled my expression before looking up. “What do I have to do?”

  Xavier leaned back, studying me. “Theo Patrov. Russian mafia. The Bratva’s executioner. The most feared man in the underworld.”

  Like I didn’t already know.

  “They call him Dyavol,” Xavier continued. “The Devil.”

  My grip on the file tightened.

  “For the past year, he’s been getting in our way,” Xavier said, his tone sharp with irritation. “No one knows why, and we don’t want a war if we can avoid it. That’s where you come in.”

  I frowned. “Spy on him?”

  He nodded. “We need to know what he wants. Why he’s targeting us.”

  I scoffed. “Why not just kill him?”

  Xavier laughed dryly. “Did you not hear a word I just said? No one dares to make Theo Patrov their enemy. If you try to kill him, you don’t live long enough to regret it. He’s untouchable. But if he keeps interfering with us, we might have no choice. Until then, you’re going to get close to him. Learn what he’s after.”

  I exhaled slowly. “And how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

  Xavier smirked. “Easy. You’ll go to him as his slave.”

  My stomach twisted. “Excuse me?”

  “For the past eight years, he was one of our most loyal buyers at the auctions. Every time we arranged one, he showed up and bought slaves. No one knows what he does with them. Some say he kills them when he gets bored. But for the past year? He’s stopped coming.”

  Xavier’s eyes glinted with something sly. “And now, there’s a rumor he’ll be at the next auction. That’s in three days.”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “You will be presented as our most expensive and beautiful slave,” Xavier said, amusement dripping from his voice. “And I have no doubt—one look at you, and he’ll buy you.”

  Silence stretched between us.

  I forced my voice to stay even. “And what if he doesn’t?”

  Xavier chuckled darkly. “Oh, he will.”

  I snapped the file shut and tucked it under my arm. I didn’t have a choice. None of us ever did.

  Xavier leaned forward, his voice dipping into something almost mocking. “Be careful, Mira. They call him the Devil’s Nightmare for a reason. Pleasing him won’t be easy.”

  I didn’t answer. I turned on my heel and walked out.

  But my mind stayed locked on Theo.

  He was still the same. Still carrying that darkness like it was stitched into his skin. Still looking like a god carved from ice and fire. Still dangerous. Still lethal.

  And for the first time in years, I felt something close to fear.

  Not because he was a monster.

  But because he was the one monster I never wanted to face again.