The gates of the Volkov mansion swung open with an ominous groan, the kind that preceded storms. Nikolai stepped out of the bulletproof black SUV, dressed in a pristine suit that masked the fury boiling beneath his calm exterior. His face was unreadable, but the glint in his eyes was cold, calculated. Revenge had become his only gospel.

Vladivostok met him at the front steps with Alyona's mother, Margaret , standing protectively by his side. He hadn’t wanted her there. But she insisted. She ...