Chapter 1

I leaned against the bar in the dimly lit club, nursing a whiskey and watching the crowd. My thoughts were a tangled mess, but they always circled back to one thing: loyalty. Loyalty to the men I served with in the Navy and loyalty to the outfit I currently worked for under Andre Scarpacci. He'd taken me in when my old man got whacked, showed me the ropes, and now I was his go-to guy, his number-one enforcer. I don't agree with some of his business dealings and tactics, but most of the guys I handle are low-life thugs who had it coming. Besides, I have other reasons keeping me on his payroll, biding my time until I can blow out of here. Andre wasn't a man you crossed and lived to talk about it. He commanded respect and fear in equal measure. His cold gray eyes could freeze your blood, and his decisions were final, no questions asked. You didn't question Andre Scarpacci if you valued your life.

The door creaked open, and Victor, Andre's son, walked in. His face twisted in a scowl when he saw me. We both knew why he hated me even though we'd been thick as thieves as kids. But now, I had Andre's ear more than he did and rose faster in the ranks. The fact that Victor claimed Gina, the only girl I ever loved, as his wife ten years ago wasn't enough to even the scales in his eyes. "Hunter," he spat, like the name itself was poison. I just nodded, taking another sip of my drink.
Victor sneered at me before disappearing into the back room where Andre waited. I followed shortly after, my steps heavy with purpose. The air thickened as I entered the room; the scent of cigars mingled with expensive cologne filled my nostrils. Andre sat behind his oak desk, flanked by two goons who looked like they'd enjoy snapping bones for breakfast. Andre wasn't a huge man, but he was thick, gangly, and solid, with hands like meaty sausages. He had a bulldog of a face, with jowls that shook when he was angry. "Hunter," Andre's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Boss," I replied. "Mason's daughter's secured, yeah?" he asked without looking up from his paperwork. "Yeah," I confirmed. "No one's getting near her." Andre finally glanced up, eyes as cold as a Siberian winter. "Good. Make sure it stays that way."

His ruthlessness never ceased to amaze me. He'd orchestrate kidnappings without blinking an eye if it meant tightening his grip on this city. But his latest victim was different - an innocent woman named Harper Mason. The daughter of a man who had a considerable debt to pay off. She was to be the payment... Life hadn't been easy for Harper Mason either. From what I'd gathered, she was a law student at NYU with a bright future ahead of her. She modeled part-time to make ends meet, all while keeping her grades up and flashing that dazzling smile of hers that could light up the darkest room. But life threw her a curveball when her mom died of cancer when she was just a kid. Her aunt raised her because her old man couldn't keep it together—PTSD and
alcohol had him in a chokehold. None of that mattered now. She was our leverage. Her father's debt had spiraled out of control, landing squarely on Andre's radar. A desperate man makes desperate choices, and now Harper was in our hands. As I walked out of that room, I couldn't help but think about Harper Mason -innocent yet caught in this web of power and deceit. But orders were orders, and I followed them to the letter because loyalty wasn't just expected; it was demanded
Andre's gaze bore into me, a silent demand for an answer.
"Who do you have on the girl?" he asked, his voice gravelly and caustic to the ears. "My best guys," I replied without hesitation. "They're loyal, reliable."

He scowled, the corners of his mouth turning down in disgust. "Those
jerkoffs? I wouldn't trust them alone with a fatted pig. I sure as hell don't want them slobbering over my future bride." He barked a scornful laugh. "A broad hot enough to grace the cover of those fashion magazines-Nah, I don't trust a single one of them." My mind raced. Future bride? Andre was serious about this? He leaned forward, the leather chair creaking under his weight. "I don't trust anyone but you to handle this personally, Cale." I swallowed hard. This was more than just a job now; it was personal for Andre. His penetrating hooded eyes didn't waver. "You'll watch over her yourself while I'm handling business abroad," he continued. "Four weeks, Cale. Then I want her delivered to me-untouched if you know what I mean." The weight of his words settled over me like a suffocating blanket. Four weeks with Harper Mason under my watchful eye. Four weeks to ensure she remained untouched and ready for Andre's twisted plans. "Understood," I said, my voice steady even as my thoughts churned "Good," he replied, leaning back and lighting a cigar. The scent of tobacco filled the room, mingling with the tension that lingered like a thick fog. I turned and left the room, my mind grappling with the reality of what lay ahead. Watching over Harper Mason wasn't just a task—it was a test of loyalty and control in ways I hadn't anticipated. As I stepped back into the club's dim light, I couldn't shake the image of Harper's bright smile from my mind. She had no idea what kind of storm

was about to hit her life. And now, it was my job to make sure she survived it intact. Loyalty to Andre demanded nothing less.