Page 1 of Raven

PROLOGUE

When a hundred elite students partied on Zion Island in the middle of the Atlantic for spring break, the rest of the world exploded into a nuclear war.

Many lost their homes, families, and their wealth. While they cried on each other’s shoulders, I watched calmly.

When the world tells you since the day you were born that you are worthless, you make peace with that thought. When that very world starts sinking while you thrive, you think that maybe it was wrong.

It’s a common truth that while some live through their worst times, others have their best ones.

Two years have passed since the Change. It will take decades to repair the damage from the war and a lifetime to heal the scars. But mine were inflicted before the war. The Change made me a rich man. The party island for the wealthy became my kryptonite.

I want to thank the former Secretary of Defense, who, unbeknownst to him, saved my life when I eavesdropped on his conversation. RIP, sir.

His son, Archer Crone, now runs the show. Me, I protect him, his company, and Zion Island. The Elites pay me big bucks to ensure their safety.

But there are other forces at play.

Aleksei Tsariuk, the wealthiest and most powerful man in the Northern Hemisphere, has been flipping the world upside down looking for his daughter since that fateful spring break two years ago.

And here’s a little secret—she is on Zion, and I just found her.

I don’t care about her all-powerful father. Or her past. Or what consequences come with what I’m about to do.

I have it all, but I want her more than I’ve ever wanted money or power.

Zion Island is crumbling. The dark end is inevitable. And she will be my last meal.

Welcome to paradise.

1

RAVEN

TWO YEARS AGO / FOUR DAYS BEFORE SPRING BREAK

The moment the mansion gate opens, I know this day is going to change my life.

A courtyard full of government cars and CIA security is not exactly a great scenario for a person who feeds the darkest cravings of the richest students in the country—me, of course.

My body tenses as I cruise my BMW toward the fountain roundabout of Archer Crone’s mansion. Archer is the golden child of Deene University. His friends’ lavish indulgences are the reason for my six-figure savings. My perfectly tailored suit and a Rolex are my permanent attire. Despite being a darknet and black-market dealer, my clients are not street thugs and junkies anymore. I deal to a sophisticated crowd.

The front of the mansion is lined with government cars. Security in black suits and earpieces dot the courtyard.

Interesting.

Archer never schedules meetings with me when his father, the Secretary of Defense, visits. This is out of the ordinary and might be an emergency.

Archer’s bodyguard directs me away from the main entrance to the east side of the mansion, which is lined with luxury cars.

So, Archer is having a party. And his father is visiting? Something doesn’t click.

In my line of work, I learned to always keep my eyes and ears open, noticing every detail. So, when I roll down the window and the guard says, “Wait here until you get clearance to enter,” I keep my windows open and my eyes on the entrance.

There you are.

A tall man hurries out of the mansion. Suit and tie, glasses, a phone pressed to his ear. Meet Secretary Crone, the devil of the US government.

“You are not listening,” the secretary barks into the phone as he stomps to one of the black SUVs. “You don’t need details. When I tell you to get out of the country before this weekend, you listen. Pack your bags and wife, get your kids by the scruff, and pick any country north or south of the US. The farther, the better. I am not repeating?—”

---