The Letter

epilogue

Saint

One Year Later…

T he clock on my wall reads after midnight. The house is quiet, quieter than it has been in the year since Tiffany and I’ve been married. I hate the fucking silence. It’s a reminder of how bad I fucked up.

The day of our wedding, I never thought anything could change the way I saw my wife. I was a fool.

Glancing at the picture on my desk of Tiffany in that gorgeous white dress, her thick curly hair straightened and pinned back off her face. She looked so beautiful and bright that day. The last time I saw her, that light was nowhere in her eyes. I can admit, I’m the cause of it.

The letter on my desk catches my attention. Picking it up I read the scribbled letters once again.

Hello, Niccolo Basille or should I say Nicholas Roberts,

You don’t know me, but I promise, before it’s all said and done you will. For now, you can call me the Horseman. My sole purpose is to destroy everything you and your brothers created. Everything that was gained after the four of you destroyed William Bone’s school for boys.

You, and your brothers built your empires off the backs of those young boys you left behind in that hell hole. I’m here to claim their reparations.

The rapture is coming for you, Nicholas, starting with your pretty new wife.

Balling the letter up I toss it on my desk. Someone out there knew our secret. A secret, my brothers and I swore to take to our graves.

A soft knock comes to my office door grabbing my attention.

“Come in,” I call out.

Roc, Ghost, and Jake enter my office. Immediately, I can tell by the forlorn look on their faces that they don’t have good news for me.

“I’m sorry, Boss. We can’t find Tiff and little man anywhere. Mira has no idea where she is, and we’ve had people watching her house all day.

“What about Mr. Best?”

Roc shakes his head. “He has no clue. He’s still on that single’s cruise.”

Picking up the glass of scotch off my desk I take a sip as I allow the weight of what’s happened to lay on my shoulders. Not only do I have some fucker calling himself the Horseman, threatening to take down my empire, but my wife, the love of my life took my son this morning and left me.

The Horseman sent her a video of Marcus being killed. There was no audio, so she doesn’t know what was said, but she now knows I had something to do with his disappearance.

The fury I’ve been keeping bottled up inside of me fills my limbs like fire. I toss the glass of scotch in my hands against the wall over my men’s head. They all duck just in time to miss being hit.

“Find. My. Fucking. Wife,” I growl through gritted teeth.

“Sure thing, Boss,” Ghost says. The men quickly exit leaving me alone to my silence again.

Slowly, the fury that I buried deep inside me long ago, starts to fill me up again. Gone is the levelheaded businessman that contained his craziness for his wife and son. Standing to my feet, I twist my neck from side to side. Tugging on my suit jacket, I release a sigh.

Until Tiffany and my son are back beside me, all hell will break loose. I’ll be only Saint from here on out. Let the hunt begin.