Page 1 of A Monster Is Coming

Prologue

Niamh

I always knew I was going to die. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it was going to be like this. Staring at the man I thought I’d fallen in love with while my father pointed the barrel of a gun at the back of my head, the last thing I want to do was cry. Tears were signs of weakness. Even though throughout my life there have been many times I’ve wanted to succumb to tears, I’ve always stopped myself. If it wasn’t the memory of my mother, it certainly was the memory of my father.

I thought I’d gotten away from all of this, but that was the illusion. There is no getting away from the past.

The urge to scream was so strong, because of the pain in my body. It had been a long time since I took a beating like this. I didn’t know what was worse—the fact that I hoped I’d get something out of this, or the pain of looking at the man I thought I loved. There was nothing good about any of this. There was only pain and suffering.

Anyone would think I’d be used to being lied to. Nope. It would seem I’m still a sucker for lies, for the falseness of people. Look at what trust and love did to people.

I was forced to my knees on a dirty floor. The scent of dirt, shit, and piss filled every one of my senses. I had to control the urge to vomit. The gag they’d tied across my mouth dug into either side, and I was pretty sure blood dripped from my nose. One of my eyes was swollen shut. I think that came from the first punch, courtesy of my father.

In the last twenty-four hours, I’d been hit, kicked, spat on, called every single curse name in the book. I was pretty sure my wrist was broken, possibly a few ribs, my heart, and if I was completely honest, my entire soul was a shattered mess on the floor.

There was simply no way back from this.

It didn’t matter that the man before me held a gun, and it was unwavering. This was new, I was used to men being terrified of my father. Not Peter. No, he wasn’t afraid of anyone.

According to my father, this man was a monster, and nearly rivaled that of his boss, Ivan Volkov.

I didn’t know who Peter really was. I thought his name was Peter Shadows. I should have known it was a fake name. It was ironic, because I couldn’t criticize him for using a different name. My own was indeed fake.

Niamh was real. I was not Niamh Long. No, I was Niamh Byrne, daughter of Finn Byrne, who happened to be the head of the Irish Mafia. I’d not kept up-to-date with all the lingo.

For as long as I could remember, I’d wanted out of this life. I’d wanted far away from it.

I’d tasted freedom for just a short time, but I knew what life away from death, pain, and chaos was like. One thing was certain: I would never have that taste again. Death was a guarantee for me. There was no way I would see tomorrow.

The saddest truth to date, after everything I’d learned, was I didn’t want to see tomorrow. There was nothing worth living for.

Chapter One

Peter

Six Months Earlier

I’d tried to come up with a million different reasons why Ivan didn’t need to meet with me. Even though shit had seriously hit the fan, Ivan asking for me personally, and alone, was never good. The secret location also wasn’t good. So far, I’d made it out into the middle of fucking nowhere. My soldiers hadn’t been allowed to join me.

There wasn’t even a chance for me to write a goodbye note. I didn’t know if this was Ivan going off the deep end and killing his Brigadiers. My loyalty was without question. In the last few years, he did have a change of heart. At one point I was engaged to a horrible heiress slut, who I couldn’t stand. It wasn’t long after a meal with Slavik and his wife Aurora that all engagement and ties changed. This was a relief to me.

I couldn’t stand the wife that had been chosen for me. She was a giant slut, which wasn’t the problem. No, it was her nastiness and deep-seated evilness. I did happen to understand her, but I didn’t like her. Fucking her had been easy. Sex always was, even if I didn’t like the woman. Whenever Ivan needed information and it came from a woman, I was more than happy to provide. Sex was the easy part in helping Ivan become number one.

I’d do anything for that man. There was no limit, because I knew Ivan was a great man. Someone worthy of dying for.

The fog didn’t help the horror about to unfold. It was no secret to me and Victor that Ivan was marrying off his Brigadiers. First Slavik, then Andrei, and the last one to fall was Ive.

There was only Victor and myself left. For the sixth Brigadier, the title was up for grabs with two people known as The Butcher and The Beast. You’d think it was two men, but Ivan had surprised me by revealing The Butcher was indeed a woman. I still didn’t know her name, but I had seen her. The Beast, a man, also lived up to his reputation. Either one would prove to be one hell of a Brigadier, but I had no idea who Ivan would crown the victor.

Bringing my car to a stop, I already saw Ivan up ahead, standing at a gate overlooking the city.

He always liked the dramatics. Ivan considered himself an expert scene setter. He knew exactly how he liked things to play out. So far, I don’t think anything had gone against his plan.

Again, the man knew what he was doing. Nothing had failed him, which was why the Volkov Bratva hadn’t been torn apart. There were many times we could have crumbled, and Ivan kept it together. Even during that time when I thought he was dead. That seemed like a lifetime ago, but was probably only a few years, possibly more. So much shit had happened.

Ivan had known it was coming. No one could be in power for long without someone trying to take it away. I didn’t know if Slavik, Andrei, Ive, and Victor remembered our warnings. That the job of a Brigadier wouldn’t come without a steep cost.

Either way, I remembered, which is why I haven’t given up. I wouldn’t.

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