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Prologue

"Lou! Lou." The familiar voice keeps echoing in his head.

He is drenched in sweat, jerking wildly on the bed, trying hard not to go to where his subconsciousness is leading him to. But like always...he failed.

LuCaS

No! I don't want to experience this tonight. Just for this night let me have a restful sleep. My pleas fall on deaf ears as usual and I see my eight-year-old self in that familiar car filled with the aroma of mom's pasta which my sister, Lauren is eating. But instead of laughing with her, trying to steal some from her like that day, I'm yelling at dad to stop the car. Begging desperately not to go through this torture again. It's coming, I can feel it but I'm trapped in my seat. I can see the flashlight, it's blinding, and the loud horn of the truck, it's terrifying. No! No!

...

I jerk awake with a gasp, my heart pounding in my chest. I scan my surrounding in panic, only relaxing when it clicked that I'm in my room. And like always, I remember everything vividly. So vivid it feels like it happened minutes ago. Glancing at it time, I see that it's just a few minutes to 3am. I yank my blanket off me with an angry huff before heading to the adjoining bathroom in my room.

Standing in front of the washbasin, I stare at my reflection in the mirror with my fist tightening around the basin. Ever since I lost my parents to a car accident nineteen years ago, I haven't had a restful night once. That accident took everything from me. I never slept without being tortured by the nightmare.

There is no way I can go back to sleep so there is only one thing to do now. I pick up my headphone and make my way to the gym at the third floor. Not bothering with the hand wraps, I started with the punching bag. Damn! This is so frustrating. Why does this nightmare hunt me every single time I close my eyes? Why?! I punched till my hands are bleeding, venting my frustration on the poor punching bag. After a while, I moved to the pull up bar, later the bench press and finally the treadmill.

By the time I'm doing venting out my frustration and anger, it's already dawn. My muscles are aching but it's nothing new. I walk to the refrigerator just at the corner of the room, pick up a bottle of water drank some and poured the rest on my head. I take off my vest using it as a towel to clean off the water and sweat on my body.

I feel my phone vibrating in my back pocket, I pick it up and it's a text from Vaughan, my uncle.

‘To my study. Now.’

I am already pissed up as I'm and seeing my ass—ole uncle now will only make me more pissed but there is nothing I can do about it, I learned the hard way to do what he wants or Lauren takes the brunt. Not anymore though. It's time to start over again.

Lauren is my twin sister, the accident made her cripple and there is no hope she can ever walk again. I promised to take care of her and damn right I'm going to...with all my might. She is my weakness, Vaughan knows and he uses her as a leash to keep me under his control. But like I said...not anymore.

....~....

I walk into my uncle's study-more like his home office-with a blank look on my face like always, I'm an expert in masking my emotions all thanks to him.

"What do you want Vaughan?" I spit in despise immediately not bothering to waste time. He has his new toy on his lap, both eating out each other's tongues.

My jaw clenches and unclenches, my heart filled with hatred for my uncle who made me what I am. A monster. A heartless monster.

After the death of our parents, Vaughan became our guardian and he brought us to Italy. He made acquaintance with some members of the Italian mafia who trained me, he made me do his dirty work by using my sister as bait. I never kill for him though, just some horrible things I'm not proud of.

"Guarda chi abbiamo qui è il mio ragazzo. (Look who we have here. It's my boy)." He smirks pulling away from his toy.

I fist my palm, trying to mask my annoyance. I hate being called his boy and he knows it but he keeps on calling me that just to irritate me. I am no one's but his father's boy.

He gives his toy a look and she scrambles away.

"Ho qualcosa per te. (I have something for you)." He smirks, trying to retrieve something from his drawer.

"I also have something for you."

"Really?" He pauses. "Okay, you go first."

"Oggi sono esattamente dieci anni. (It is exactly ten years today)." Ten years since I started doing horrible things for him. Hell, I have been counting, waiting desperately for the tenth year. "Ricordi il nostro accordo? (You remember our deal?)" The deal was to let me and my sister go after ten years. I know better than to trust Vaughan's word but I'm prepared.

"Yes." He grins and I can't help but to narrow my eyes in suspicion. "Here." He throws a file on the desk.

"What's this?" I inquire picking it up.

"Questo è l'ultimo incarico che ti ho riservato, ragazzo. Sei libero di partire con tua sorella ogni volta che completi questo incarico. (That is the last assignment I have reserved for you, boy. You are free to leave with your sister whenever you complete this assignment)." He explains smugly sitting upright. "This right here is the most important of all the assignments you been given."

Inside the file are some pictures, the first one is that of a man possibly in his forties carrying a briefcase and there is a younger man in shades behind him.

"That is our main target, Damien Monroe, behind him is his head of bodyguards, Zachary Stawarski. Damien is the CEO of a popular construction company in the USA, Luacas Construction, and a food manufacturing company, Luacas Foods Inc. while Zachary handles all issues concerning the Monroes' safety." Vaughan explains with venom dripping from his voice. He must have a deep grudge against these people.

The next picture is that of a woman presumably in her forties also.

"His wife, Pamela Jones Monroe."

On getting to the last picture, my eyes land on a lady with wavy honey-brown hair staring back at me. It looks like she's getting out of a car and I can see about three men in suite around her-probably her bodyguards. Something about her slim, fragile figure captivates me. Damn, she's stunning. It's not like it matters though, I shrug mentally.

‘Doesn't it?’ My inner voice says and I roll my eyes mentally.

"And that is his most prized possession, Nathalie Monroe. His only child, heiress to his fortune."

Nathalie. The name swirls in my mind and I'm tempted to call it out just to hear how it will sound coming from me but I held back. I can hear Vaughan muttering something about a privileged bitch in the background but my mind is filled with thoughts of her. Don't get me started on that those eyes of hers, even though I can't make out the colour, it is enticing and the innocent look on her face...

"You're going to New York." I snap out of it when I suddenly hear him say.

"What?"

"You heard me. You're going to New York for this assignment, that is where our targets are. You don't have to do you much, all you have to do is to be the girl's bodyguard for a while while I sort out things here. When things are sorted out, I'll tell you what next to do."

"How many weeks is this going to take?"

"About four weeks."

"I'm not killing anyone for you Vaughan."

"And I'm not asking you to, not that there is anything you can do if I ask you to but I'm not asking you to...for now." He adds smugly.

I have a bad feeling about this.

"Just be his daughter's f—cking bodyguard." He snaps probably seeing the hesitation on my face.

"Fine. But I'm not leaving Lauren here, I'm taking her with me." I state firmly.

"Sicuro. Lauren starà in una delle mie case sicure a New York e non le sarà permesso di uscire di casa fino a quando non avrai finito con il tuo incarico. (Sure. Lauren will stay in one of my safe houses in New York and she won't be allowed to step a foot outside the house until you are done with your assignment)."

I nod in agreement knowing that's as far as I can get from him. New York, here I come.