Chapter 1

The extraction in Eastern Europe went south fast, real fast.

Derek Vance, the boss's son, thought he knew better than a seasoned team.

He broke protocol, went off on his own, and the asset we were there to retrieve, a high-value scientist, ended up dead.

My team lost two good men because of his arrogance.

Back at the PMC forward base, I didn't mince words.

"Derek Vance needs to be held accountable for this," I told the regional director, my voice tight.

"His actions directly led to mission failure and the deaths of our operatives."

The director, a corporate suit named Henderson, just nodded, his face unreadable.

"Your report will be noted, Mason."

That was it. Noted.

The next morning, my world imploded.

My encrypted comm crackled with a message from Mac, my old Green Beret buddy.

"Alex, you're blown. All of it. Your entire operational profile, every safe house, your real SIN, everything."

I felt a cold knot in my stomach. "How?"

"Dark web auction," Mac said, his voice grim. "Starting bid? Nine dollars and ninety-nine cents."

Humiliation was a bitter pill, but the immediate threat was worse.

They weren't just trying to ruin me, they were painting a target on my back for every two-bit gun-for-hire.

The first attack came less than an hour later.

A black SUV tried to run me off the road as I was heading to what I thought was a secure location.

I managed to ditch the car and escape into the alleys, but not before taking a piece of shrapnel to my left shoulder.

Bleeding and on the run, my first thought was Sophia. My fiancée.

Her father, CEO of a massive defense contractor, the kind that owned the PMC I worked for.

She had to know something, had to help.

I made my way to her Georgetown townhouse, sticking to the shadows.

The pain in my shoulder was a dull, throbbing fire.

As I approached her front steps, I heard voices from her walled garden. Sophia's.

I pressed myself against the cool brick, listening.

"He's a liability now, darling," Sophia said, her voice light, almost amused. "Completely compromised."

A friend, someone I didn't recognize, giggled. "So, what are you going to do? Cut him loose?"

"Oh, please," Sophia scoffed. "He'll come crawling, begging for daddy to clean up his mess. Like a stray dog."

My breath hitched. Stray dog.

Then her next words hit me like a physical blow.

"I've already put his real-time GPS coordinates up for sale, a little side hustle. Six sixty-six. A bargain, right?"

The friend gasped. "Sophia, you didn't!"

"And his known weaknesses? Psychological profile, old injuries, combat tells? Three thirty-three. Even the amateurs can get a piece of him before the big fish claim the main bounty."

My blood ran cold.

She wasn't just abandoning me, she was actively selling me out, piece by piece, for pocket change.

The woman I was going to marry.

The betrayal was so profound, so absolute, it almost stopped my heart.

The pain in my shoulder was nothing compared to this.