|Ace's POV| Guilt rides heavy on my shoulders as I push in the button for the penthouse after entering the lift. My suit jacket is hanging limply in my hand while there is blood splattered against the fabric of my white shirt, my skin, my hair. I cannot even meet my own eyes, looking like death incarnate, as the events of the night continue to flash through my head.Serena had demanded that I help Viktor Brullo— New York's crime lord— with whatever he might require, and today, I had to go and pull an odd job of being his fucking handler. And the job required me to torture a man in front of the eyes of his very pregnant wife because he had stolen some petty amount from Viktor Brullo and the asinine crime lord wanted revenge on the poor man. Drenched in their blood, I want nothing but to succumb to the darkness of my room right now, in hopes of perhaps forgetting all the heinous crimes I have committed ever since the day that I became a pawn at the hands of the Van Dykes. There wa

|Flashback, 4 Years Ago| |Meera's POV|"One more." I tell the bartender who nods his head and pours another glass of Irish whiskey in my glass before going away to attend to other customers. My phone lays in front of me on the bar-top, flashing with Ace's name for the thousandth time tonight but I could really not give a fuck about him right now. I returned from Paris a few hours ago and the only place I could think of going is this nightclub that I am currently sitting in. It is past midnight already and I don't know how many drinks I have had by now. But clearly not enough if I can still feel my chest aching and my heart pounding with pathetic hope every time that my phone rings and it says that it is my darling husband calling me. The entirety of the last month was a fucking whirlwind and right now, I am so fucking exhausted that I could just sleep for a week straight. The first two weeks were hectic with the wedding shopping and making sure that everything went in accordance