Chapter 2

Victor's training was brutal. Financial manipulation, firearms, hand-to-hand combat, psychological warfare, identity forgery.

He treated Evan like a raw diamond and carved him into shape with his own hands.

Evan learned at a terrifying pace. He took to the darkness as if he were born for it.

A month later, Victor brought him to meet Damien Graves, the man who controlled the underground exchange in Neon Harbour.

Damien was a sadist. He got off on watching people tear each other apart.

At the banquet that night, Damien raised his glass with a grin. "Mr Blackwell, is this little thing your newest pet?"

Evan stood behind Victor, his gaze cold enough to cut.

Victor answered without inflection, "He is."

Damien reached out to touch Evan's face.

Evan's hand shot up in an instant. He locked around Damien's wrist with enough force to snap it.

The entire hall went silent.

Damien's expression darkened. "You insolent little bastard."

Victor just smiled. He kept his voice low and calm. "Evan."

Evan released his grip and stepped back behind Victor without a word.

But a split second later, a gunshot tore through the room. Someone had been lying in wait.

The bullet ripped straight toward Victor's temple. Evan didn't think. His body moved faster than his mind ever could, and he threw himself in front of Victor.

The shot punched into Evan's shoulder, and blood soaked through his white shirt in seconds.

Victor's eyes went wide.

He caught Evan in his arms and pressed his fingers hard against the wound. For the first time, his voice cracked. "Have you lost your bloody mind?"

Evan's face had gone pale, but he smiled like a child who'd just got away with something. "Mr Blackwell, you owe me a life now."

Victor's fingers were shaking. He looked down at Evan, and something behind his eyes split open, raw and exposed. "What do you want."

Evan lifted his gaze. His eyes were wet and dark, the kind that could pull a man straight down into the deep. "It's not money I'm after. And it's not a life, either."

He let out a small laugh. It was half mad, half innocent. "I want you."

The entire room seemed to lose its sound.

Victor's fingers tightened around him, gripping so hard it was as though he meant to lock Evan into his very bones.

He leaned down close to Evan's ear, and his voice came out rough and trembling. "Evan, you'd better not regret this."

Evan smiled, and it was sickeningly sweet, sweet like poison.

"Mr Blackwell." His voice was barely a whisper. "I never do."

*****

Evan spent two weeks recovering from his injuries, and Victor changed his bandages personally every single time.

Each time the gauze wrapped around his shoulder, Evan leaned in just a little closer than he needed to.

When Victor bent his head to focus on the wound, Evan would press a soft kiss to his earlobe.

When Victor turned away, Evan would catch him from behind, arms locked around his waist.

He was like a needy puppy and a calculating madman all at once.

One night, Evan wrapped his arms around Victor from behind and pressed his face against the broad plane of his back. "Mr Blackwell," he murmured.

Victor didn't move. "Go on."

Evan kept his voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you save me?"

A long silence stretched between them before Victor finally spoke. "Because you remind me of myself."

Evan froze.

Victor turned slowly and caught Evan's chin between his fingers. "You remind me of who I was when I was young. Back when I wanted to burn the whole world to the ground."

Evan stared up at him, his eyes rimmed red. "So will there come a day when you destroy me too?"

Victor let out a low laugh, then dipped his head and pressed his lips to Evan's. The kiss was cruel and tender all at once, like a brand seared into skin.

"No," he said against Evan's mouth. "I'd destroy myself first."

A violent tremor ran through Evan's body.

It was as though Victor had struck the softest, most buried part of him.

Evan surged forward and kissed him back with a fierce, bruising force.

He kissed him deep and hard, like he was trying to steal the breath from both their lungs, like he was swallowing three years of caged desire and bottled hatred straight down to the bone.

Victor pulled him close, his fingers threading through Evan's hair. He whispered against his skin, "Evan. You're the only thing I've never been able to control."

Something flickered behind Evan's eyes, burning bright and reckless. He pressed his lips to Victor's and smiled, his whole body trembling with it. "Then don't stop now."