1

Chapter 1

Aviana 

Prologue

Aviana 

FEW YEARS BACK. 

The Darkness beneath the bed had been suffocating but it was nothing compared to the silence that followed, a silence so thick, it brought me to my knees.

I was only eight years old when I watched my mother die in front of me.

 I still remembered the gunshot, the way her body crumpled, lifeless to the floor and how helplessly I watched the men that had done this walk away without any remorse.

I remember the shadows of the men who did it, their voices sharp with a foreign accent, their laughter like blades slicing through my ears.

I still remember my cries … my mind could never distinguish it if it had been me at that time or someone else.

But most of all, I remember the growl. Low. Guttural. Something that didn't belong in this world.

For years I wondered if I imagined it and if trauma had twisted my memory or if it had been real… 

And now, as I stood in a dark alley fifteen years later, face to face with one of the men that had taken my life away and I couldn't help but remember the way my mom had begged and the way they had laughed or the way the gunshot shattered my world.

I never saw his face until 5 years after my mother's death. I had seen him at a bus station smoking, when I noticed a black scorpion tattoo inked onto his foot but that wasn't what gave him away. His accent had been what gave it away… I instantly knew that I had found one of my mother's killers. I followed him for years after and eventually joined the police force. I had found out everything that I needed to know.

And now, standing in the dark alley, rain soaking through my clothes, I was staring at the same scorpion tattoo.

He hadn't even noticed me yet 

He was too busy checking over his shoulder his breath ragged. He was running away from something but he wouldn't be running much longer. I had come to be his absolute nightmare.

I lifted my gun, stepping into the dim light. "You look like you've seen a ghost," I smirked.

His head snapped up, eyes wild. "Who the hell are you?" He questioned, visibly distressed as he looked between me and over his shoulders.

I chuckled darkly. "You don't remember me, do you?" I took a slow step forward, the gun trained in his chest.

"That night, the woman you murdered, I am her daughter. I look just like her, don't you think?" I asked, my voice menacing and my steps intimidating.

His face twisted, "You're…"

"Good, you remember me…" my plastic smile dropped only to be replaced by hatred.

For a moment, he just stared, Then he laughed, low and dark. "And what¿ You think you're gonna get revenge for? You don't even know what you are dealing with."

A familiar sound rumbled from deep in his chest– a growl, guttural and inhuman. Just like that night.

A warning shot cracked through the air, the bullet grazing his shoulder. "Shut up,"

He grunted, clutching his wound. But instead of fear, amusement danced in his eyes.

"Killing me will only be doing me a favor," he stared.

"Hmmm…"

 "You think you're ready for this, little girl?"

I stepped closer, pressing the barrel against his forehead. "I've been ready for fifteen years."

I pulled the trigger.

His body slumped to the ground. Blood pooled around him, mixing with the rain.

I exhaled, lowering my gun, my heart steady.

One down. Three to go.

DREAM

The darkness under the bed did nothing to stop the shaking in my bones or the relentless pounding in my chest, pressing so hard I could barely breathe

"Don't move. Don't make a sound.' That's what Mom had told me before shoving me beneath the bed. But no matter how hard I tried to be still, I couldn't for the life of me silence the frantic and panicked rhythm of my heart beat.

From my hiding place, I watched the tension in the room thicken like a stormy day.

Shadows moved across the floor—men I had seen before. Once or twice. Mom called them friends, but I never believed her. They were not the type of people she hung out with.

They were angry tonight. Their voices thick with an accent i couldn't place grew sharper, harsher, until every word felt like a s knife. Mom was pleading, her voice raw with desperation, but they didn't care. Whatever she had done, it had sealed her fate.

I contemplated going to her to protect her but she'd explicitly warned me to stay out and that no matter what happened, I should remain under the bed or something bad was going to happen.

I swallowed, hoping they'd leave her alone and we could go back to dinner but there was no such luck because the next moment, the men began to yell in intelligible words that sounded like threats.

I shrunk deeper into the darkness, my tiny hands clamping down on my ears.

I couldn't see their faces but I could see their shifting shadows move around the bedroom.

Suddenly the noise died instantly and Silence fell.

My hands fell away from my ears automatically. Maybe they'd solved the issue.

A deep, guttural growl—low and menacing, almost inhuman—rumbled through the air. My stomach twisted. The sound didn't belong in this world.

Then, a gunshot shattered the silence. I sucked in a breath sharply, my body frozen in place as I watched the horrified scene in slow motion as my mom crumpled to the floor, her body hitting the hardwood with a sickening thud, Blood spreading beneath her head, forming a pool.

A scream erupted from deep within but no sound came out. It was like my throat was locked up and there was something closing up my voice box.

I tried to move, to crawl to her, but I couldn't. I couldn't move. It was like an invisible force had me trapped, pinning me in place.

Mom! My mind screamed, but my voice was gone. Then, the ringing started—loud, deafening—swallowing everything.

And then—darkness.

Present day 

I jolted up right from my bed, gasping for air as my chest rose and fell in rapid succession.

My body was slick with sweat as I shook from the claustrophobic effect of my dream, no not a dream--- A memory.

It had been seventeen years, almost two decades since that night, and it was still as clear as if it had happened only yesterday.

The sharp, annoying beeping sound of my alarm clock drilled into my thoughts and head, intensifying the migraine forming behind my eyes.

Lack of sleep.

 Annoyed by the sound, I reached out blindly for it and slammed the button, silencing the device.

4:40am

It was early for most people but for me, it was the beginning of my day. Sleep was a luxury I couldn't afford and that I had given up on affording ages ago.

My mother's killers were still out there and I was not going to sleep until I had every last one of them dead!

Without another moment's thought, I swung my legs off the bed, pressing my feet against the cold hardwood of my bedroom floor. The chill grounded me, reminded me that I wasn't that helpless little girl anymore. I wasn't trapped under a bed, watching my mother die as I screamed helplessly.

I was a detective now and soon enough I was going to avenge her death--- I was going to make them pay. Every last one of them was going to feel my wrath ten folds 

Vitæ de Inferno. The Iron Vine.

I was coming for them.

*****

It was around midnight that I made my way to the famous Ductal hotel, I held my folder in my hand and my fake ID.

Today was the day I was going to get into the Iron Vine group and I already had everything planned out.

I took a quick peek at my reflection in the mirror as I entered the hotel lobby and grinned. I looked just the part

Brown straight pinned hair and a nice blazer.

I looked just like the real Anna Reed except I was a lot curvier but Duncan Romano didn't know that. All he knew was that I was coming in as his new accountant that was recommended by someone he trusted.

"Anna Reed?" A tall man with curly brown hair that reached his shoulders and brown eyes called my name from beside me.

"Uh, yes."

I smiled, taking in the tall man. He was hot, my type but I wasn't here for that.

"Follow me," he gestured and I nodded and followed closely behind him.

We got to the elevator and he punched the button for the penthouse..

As soon as we reached the hallway of the penthouse., the man suddenly stopped and turned around.

"I'll have to search you, it's protocol," he said, his tone almost robotic.

"Of course," I smiled slyly even though what I felt inside was rage.

I dropped my bag on the floor and he began to search me, surprisingly respectful about it.

Once he was convinced I didn't have any weapon on me and that I wasn't wired, he nodded curtly and handed me my bag.

He opened the door and walked in behind me.

"Wait here, I will get the boss,"

He said and I nodded and watched as he disappeared through one of the doors.

I took that time to look around, trying to gather any information I could use but this was a hotel room and there wasn't much that alluded to the personality of the boss.

All I knew was that he was ruthless and had a dark secret about him... Every detective that had worked on this case had either been found dead or mutilated in an animalistic way. No detective had ever lived to tell the tale but I was going to be the exception because I had the experience of seventeen years that they didn't.

 The penthouse smelled of leather, faint cologne, and something else—something musky and primal that made my senses tingle.

A heavy clock on the wall ticked, filling the silence as I waited. My fingers curled around my folder, feigning nonchalance, but inside, my nerves twisted like a coiled snake. It was finally time.

A door creaked open.

Footsteps. Measured, deliberate, controlled.

Then, he stepped into the room.

Duncan Romano.

The man I had spent years studying, hunting, preparing for.

He was taller than I expected—towering, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell just past his ears. His sharp jawline was lined with the shadow of a beard, his olive skin smooth, but his presence… It was suffocating.

His eyes—piercing, silver like moonlight—locked onto mine, and for a split second, I felt something unnatural slither over my skin. A chill. A whisper of something beyond comprehension.

Predatory.

I swallowed, forcing myself to remain composed as I stepped forward, extending my hand.

"Anna Reed," I introduced myself, my voice steady. "Your new accountant."

He didn't move. He just stood there, staring.

The seconds stretched unbearably, and then—

A low, deep growl rumbled through the room.

I stiffened.

The sound shook me to the core.

His nostrils flared slightly, his chest rising and falling asleep if he was scenting the air or just nervous which didn't seem plausible to me.

His lips parted , and he exhaled one word. One single word that made my blood turn to ice.

"Mate."