Page 1 of Stone

Prologue

Stone

The mind-numbing beeping and the muffled voices contribute to the pain radiating through my head. Taking a deep breath, I try but fail to open my eyes, feeling trapped in my broken body. I don’t know what happened, when, or how. I have accepted my being trapped in hell and am no longer even sure of my own existence. A bystander in a world I can’t see or participate in.

There are snippets of conversations I remember, but nothing else.

It’s simply blank.

Nothing.

A world of emptiness.

“Do you think he will get his memory back?” a gruff yet familiar voice rumbles. My mind swims as I try to place a face to the tone, but fail.

“No. He was starved of oxygen for too long. I doubt he will make a recovery at all.”

“But if he does, will he remember what happened?”

“Sir, I’ve never seen anyone recover from these types of injuries. Ever.”

I want to scream I can hear them, that my brain works enough to understand every damn word they’re saying despite not having a clue of who I even am, and I can still feel. The fear of not knowing is overtaking my soul, and I know with no doubt that I’ve never felt this terror before.

Never.

My memories are lost, but my soul lives on. It’s made of stone. I know it. I just need them to see it too.

Chapter One

Stone

Present Day

I’m conflicted when I’m summoned to my father’s home, Casa Forte. The place makes my fucking skin crawl and stomach churn, but then there’s her—Sienna, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on.

The one woman I can’t have.

My sister.

Her green eyes are unlike our brothers’ dark ones and unlike my bright-blue ones. When I asked my oldest brother, Azrael, about our differences, he scoffed and told me it’s because our lineage isn’t pure, that our father fucked so many women we’re all different, but not them. Azrael and Czar are a mirror image of one another, and Sienna is pretty fucking close, with her straight pitch-black hair and bronze skin. Only, her sparkling green eyes match her mother’s photos that adorn the foyer walls like prized possessions.

Azrael once told me our father has a multitude of bastard children, and I’m the only fortunate one he allows into his life, so I should be grateful.

I don’t feel very grateful, but without the recognition, I wouldn’t have her. I would have nothing.

My trainers, Vector and Don, were sadistic bastards who taught me how to be heartless, merciless, and cruel. They said I was weak and an embarrassment to the Carrera name. That’s why they pushed me so hard. To test my limits and redeem myself. That’s why I welcomed their forms of torture like therapy. They allowed me to repent my sins and bask in my downfalls so I could become deserving of my family, deserving of her.

They created the man I am today.

A man who embraces torture, cares for no one, delivers savagery at its rawest, and delights in it.

They created someone made of stone.

Sienna

I chew on my fingernail as I pace my bedroom for the hundredth time. My bare feet leave marks in the fluffy cream carpet, but I don’t have it in me to care.

Not today, at least.

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