Chapter 1

Muse’s POV.

Fear slithers down my spine the minute I alight from the cab and see that our house front door is open. The door is barely hanging on its hinge, and that tells me all I need to know.

There’s been a break-in, probably by burglars. No wonder mother texted me, demanding I rush home. She’s never done that before, especially when I’m working to gather money before the summer break ends.

Though I didn’t hear her voice in the text, I noticed the urgency underneath it. Hence, I asked my boss for permission and hurried home.

Now that I’ve realized there’s a break-in in our house, my worry has increased. I wonder if mama is okay. Even Nila, my younger sister.

I dart toward the door with a burst of nerves, heart hammering over my ribcage because I’m concerned about their safety. The door groans weakly when I push it backward and step into the foyer.

My first instinct is to hurry upstairs, but I rethink that when I see blood stains on the floor. Bile immediately crowds my mouth, my stomach revolting. Did they hurt mama? Nila?

I push the growing fear down, my eyes flitting around in search of a weapon I can use to protect them. However, the muffled whimpers coming from the kitchen draw my attention.

I abandon the search for a weapon, take the door to my right, and enter the living room, which overlooks our kitchen.

My heart drops to my feet; an intense fear crashes through me like a boulder.

There are men in our house. Big, muscular men with ink drawn across their faces and arms. And sitting tied to a chair like a feast are my mother and Nila.

A whimper tears out of my mouth at the sight of blood trickling down from Nila’s nose.

“Mama! Nila!” I scream, rushing forward to help them, but two strong hands restrain me.

“There you are.” A strange, gruff voice echoes, sending a barrage of chills down my spine. The man behind me reeks of stale perfume and alcohol. The stench makes me want to puke.

I struggle against his grip as something wet soaks my cheeks. It takes a moment for me to realize I’m crying like mama and Nila. Nila is just thirteen. A minor. She doesn’t deserve to be bound to a chair like that. My sister and mother want to talk, but the duct tape sealing their lips robs them of their powers of speech.

My mother is hyperventilating, whimpering in her little prison while tears draw ugly marks on her face.

Who are these people? What did we do?

Most importantly, where’s dad?

So many questions run through my head just as fear tightens its wicked grip around my neck like a noose. I try to be strong for them. I do. But that can only go so far.

I count the number of men in our midst, and they’re six. Six killers that’ve come to waste our lives.

“I almost thought you’d keep us waiting for too long. If you did that, you’d have found their corpse when you returned.” The man holding me says in a thick accent.

So they’re not from here.

We live in a small town on an island off the coast of British Columbia, Canada, and as far as I know, this is the most peaceful town I have ever lived in after years of moving from one home to another due to the harsh foster care system.

I’ve gotten firsthand experience living with crazy people who only took me in to make money off the system. As long as I can remember, I was their money-making machine, and it sucked living like that.

In the past, I plotted so many ways to escape from that harsh reality, but none worked. Until my previous foster parents, two drug addicts, took an overdose and died. That was when I found myself with the Whitneys.

They welcomed me, my mother, and her husband, James Whitney. They enrolled me in a school and gave me the life I’ve always desired. The peaceful family every thirteen-year-old girl like me would have wanted. That was seven years ago.

Now, these strange men want to shatter that peace. Hatred courses through my blood for them, but beyond that, I’m scared of losing everything I’ve come to love.

“What do you want?” The words spill from my mouth with fear, but I conceal it with effort.

“You’re just about to find out.”

A groove forms on my forehead at the man’s words, and just as I’m still mulling over those words, the sound of boots clomping over the floor reaches my ears. I jerk in the man’s arms, my blood curdling at the new company.

Soon, another not-so-strange man works in. He’s outfitted in a black coat and hat that covers half his face. But I know it’s him even before he removes his hat.

James’s boss.

My mother squirms where she’s seated at the sight of the blood coating the man’s face and the white shirt he’s wearing.

He looks at us with cold eyes before removing the cigar from between his lips.

“James’s family, eh?” He drawls, watching us with hawk-like focus. “You see the blood coating my body?” My body wobbles the more he talks. Mum whimpers, her feet tapping over the wooden floor. “That’s James’s blood.”

Oh, no. That can’t be true. Tears prickle my eyes then, trying to force their way down my cheeks more than they already are.

“He told me about his beautiful plans of stealing my money and relocating his family to Jamaica or the Dominican Republic. Where you all won’t be seen again.” He chuckles, the sound sickening to my ears. “I was impressed. Seeing the head of my clean-up crew trying to run after swearing an oath to be loyal until his last day?”

His men laugh hard as if he’s jesting. I suppress the urge to punch them in the face. I blink rapidly, focusing them on the man.

He’s Newman Ravenholm, a man rumored to own a vast empire of assets spanning continents. Here in Canada, he has several chains of restaurants, hotels, and hospitals. People respect him, but only my father knows he’s not who he portrays himself to be. Newman RavenHolm is a killer.

A man who has been battling to take out his top two rivals, who equally have the same resources, wealth, and name across several continents– the Islanders and Liskaheights.

I do not know about the Islanders and Liskaheights. All I know is that they’re just as powerful as the Ravenholms. Their name and reputation precede them.

“James disappointed me. He knows no one can steal from me, and yet he tried, only it sent him to an early grave. Stupid man just wasted his talent.” He pinches the bridge of his nose as if he feels a tinge of remorse for killing my father.

I flick a look over at Mom, and it just dawns on me that she’s now a widow. Her gray eyes suddenly become distant. Memories of the last time she saw father must be running through her mind.

My breath shudders as I stare back at Newman.

“Now, I’ve come to finish what I started.” He shrugs, looking at each of us. When his eyes land on mine, they glint with something different. “But when I saw you, girl, I realized that I can use you for something important. I mean, just like James, you look like you have the potential to carry out an assignment.”

The groove in my forehead deepens at his words. Mom looks at me, concern laced in her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” I croak against the invincible noose tightening around my neck.

“I need you to kill someone for me. Someone my hand can’t easily reach.”

The blood rushes through my veins in a frenzy, roaring in my ears.

I won’t do that. I’m not going to kill anybody.

Newman beams as if he can read the thoughts circling through my head. “Oh, yes, you will, girl.” He fishes out a gun from his holster and points it at mum. “You definitely will if your precious mother’s and sister’s lives are at stake.”

“No, don’t hurt them, please,” I beg, my face contorted.

“Girl, I don’t make promises.” As if to emphasize his point, he squeezes out a bullet that goes straight into my mother’s right knee.

An ear-splitting sound rips through the air, and I know it’s coming from me and my mother and sister. Despite the duct tape wrapped around their lips, they yell. Nila thrashes against her restraints, tears soaking her face as she looks at mom’s bleeding leg.

Blood spills over the floor, painting my vision black. My harsh breaths rasp over my ears.

“Mom! Mom!” I call, but she’s dazed and in pain.

Newman doesn’t flinch. He watches us with cold, detached eyes.

“How could you?” I rasp, head lowering.

“I can do more than that or have her treated if you agree to do what I asked, girl.”

I look at my mother, bleeding profusely, crying, and then at Nila, looking harried and scared about her life and mother’s, and I know that they need my help. Their survival depends on whatever decision I make.

Memories of how mother and her husband took me in the day the social workers brought me here resurface. They accepted me like theirs, loved me, and cherished me. They are not financially buoyant, but they made sure I had the basic things. That I’m in my second year in college is because of them.

Maybe it’s time I repay them for their kindness. Time to show them how grateful I am to them.

Looking away from them, I rest my hard gaze on Newman. “I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

“Aha! Now we’re talking.” Newman’s grin widens, haunting me. “You have a lot to learn, girl.” He hums and snaps his fingers. His men untie mom and Nila from the chair, but they don’t release them.

Instead, they drag them outside, ignoring their screams and the blood following my mom’s wake.

Panic surges inside me; I strain against the arms holding me, pain spreading through my body. I look at Newman, brows furrowed.

“Where are you taking them? Where?” I’m damn near hysterical at this point.

“Somewhere they’ll be under my watch until you do what you’re told, girl. Your father has failed me once,” he scowls. “I hope you don’t.”

“No, please, leave them. I told you, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Newman narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t want words. I want action, girl.”

He signals the man holding me to bring me along as he exits the house, and the man obliges, taking me outside after placing a hood over my head, turning my entire vision black.