It's been months since the day we stood above that empty grave that stunk of burnt flesh and secrets. All of us were dressed to the nines, one of us wearing a wedding dress, a day that was supposed to mark the beginning of a new adventure. It marked the bitter end of our vengeance. We have done things that have marked our souls for eternity. But before we get there, we have to go back. Back to where it all started. The place I could find in my sleep.

I caught the attention of a monster. I didn’t ask for it. Didn’t even see it coming. But the moment I do, it’s too late. Killian Carson is a predator wrapped in sophisticated charm. He’s cold-blooded, manipulative, and savage. The worst part is that no one sees his devil side. I do. And that will cost me everything. I run, but the thing about monsters? They always chase.

In the dark underbelly of the mob, Tristan Caine has been an anomaly. As the only non-blooded member in the high circle of the Tenebrae Outfit, he is an enigma to all. His skills are unparalleled, his morality is questionable, and his motives are unknown. He is lethal and he knows it. As does Morana Vitalio, the genius extraordinaire daughter of the rival family. What Caine does with weapons, Morana does with computers. When a twenty-year-old mystery resurfaces, Morana infiltrates Caine's house, intent on killing him, unaware of a tie that binds them together.

In the mafia world, women don’t reign. I’m the exception of that rule. I didn’t choose this life. It chose me. I have a legacy to protect, a power to snatch, and no one will stop me. If an arranged marriage is what it’ll take to lead, then so be it. What I don’t count on is that my chosen husband happens to be a ghost from my past. Kyle Hunter. He was once my guard, my protector. Now, he’s after my kingdom. The road to the throne is paved with thorns, blood, and casualties. To win, I’ll risk it all. My heart included.

In the beginning, there was Savannah Shaw. Teasing me with a mischievous, merciless grin by day. Crawling through my window with tear-stained cheeks by night. I was ordered to avoid her. Lectured on her misdeeds. Forbidden from seeing her. But my need to protect her was innate. So natural I never questioned it. So visceral I couldn’t fight it.

I loathe Alastor Shaw. The city of San Francisco thinks we’re rival artists. In truth, we’re predators battling for hunting ground. We never chased the same prey. Until the night we both laid eyes on Mara Eldritch. Shaw wants to use her as a pawn in his twisted game. I’m fixated on her for a different reason.

I have a simple plan. Finish Royal Elite School and get into my dream university. One glance from the school’s king blows my plan up in smoke. One glance and he suffocates my air. One glance and he issues his death sentence. His first words spiral my life into irreparable chaos. “I will destroy you.” Everything about Aiden King is black. Black mind. Black heart. Black soul. I should’ve remained quiet and endured the time I have left. I didn’t. I made the irrevocable mistake of provoking the king on his throne.

In my dreams, I never escaped the Oregon woods. Life after death isn't easy to accept, especially when I still feel like a ghost. Now, I live deep in the mountains of Montana—the paradigm of beauty. But they are also the home of horrors. Horrors that I only unleash at night. When my pigs are allowed to feast.

According to the FBI, I was considered a serial murderer after three kills. What do they call me after fifty-two? They call me the Silencer. One final bullet would have been all it took to stop me from taking another soul, and I would have been doing Meridian City a service by pulling that trigger. An angel crying for help stopped me, and that night, I took three lives for her. Then three turned into eight. Then eight turned into twenty. Twenty turned into twenty-one. Twenty-one turned into twenty-three.

Running away from home at 17 wasn't easy. Let's face it, though, nothing before or in the ten years since has ever been easy for me. And I'm doing okay—sorta. I just need to keep scraping by, living under the radar. Staying out of people's way, off people's minds. When a man walks through my open patio door, stepping boldly into my home and my life, I should be scared, frightened, terrified. I must be more broken than I realized because I'm none of those things. I'm intrigued—and I'm wondering if the way to take control of my life is by giving in to him.