CHAPTER 1

~EVIE~

The SUV tears through the rain-slicked streets of New York like a desperate beast fleeing a dark fate. In the back seat, I’m still thrashing, trapped beneath his weight, my fragile wrists crushed by one of his hands pinned firmly above my head.

Every move I make only seems to intensify his desire—I can clearly feel the hard pressure of his body against my thigh, a disturbing reminder of exactly where I am.

“Let me go!” I scream, my voice hoarse from crying. “I don’t know you! Help!”

He chuckles low, a dark sound that vibrates against my neck. Then he buries his face there, inhaling deeply, like he’s getting high off my scent.

“You’ll get used to knowing me again, baby,” he murmurs against my skin, grazing his teeth over the spot just below my ear.

A violent shiver runs through me, and I hate my body for reacting at all.

The man in the driver’s seat—one of the other blonds—lets out a rough laugh that echoes through the dark car.

“Want me to turn the music up, boss? To drown out her screams? ” he asks, his mocking tone making me feel even more exposed.

“No,” answers the blond holding me down, his eyes devouring every expression on my face. “I want to hear every sound she makes. Every sob. Every plea.”

I try to knee him. He traps my legs with his own and grinds his hips against mine so hard I feel exactly how aroused he is. Panic and humiliation burn across my cheeks.

“Stop… please…” My voice cracks. Tears stream down, ruining what’s left of my bridal makeup. The white dress is ruined, soaked with rain and blood. “I was getting married… Harvey…”

The moment the name leaves my mouth, his entire body goes rigid. He grabs my jaw with brutal force, forcing me to look at him. His blue eyes are black with rage.

“Never say his name in front of me again,” he snarls through clenched teeth. “That motherfucker stole you from me.”

I sob, turning my face as far as I can.

“You’re confusing me with this Evie person… My name is Beatrice…”

He laughs. A low, broken, dangerous sound.

“You are Evie Callahan. My wife. Mother of our daughter Claire. And I will remind you of that even if I have to fuck every last doubt out of your head.”

The car stops abruptly at a private hangar. Another man is already waiting beside a private jet. The blond holding me carries me out of the SUV again, throwing me over his shoulder like I’m an object.

I kick, punch his back, and scream until my throat burns.

“Help! Someone help me! He’s crazy!”

No one comes. No one can.

He climbs the jet stairs with me. Once inside the luxurious cabin, he throws me onto the leather couch. I try to run for the door, but he grabs my waist and slams me against the cabin wall, his entire body pressed flush against mine.

“There’s no escaping anymore,” he whispers in my ear, one hand sliding down to grip my ass through the torn dress. “We’re going home. To Dublin. To our daughter and the life you forgot.”

I’m crying softly now, my whole body trembling against his.

“Please… I have a family… Harvey must be…”

He turns me to face him and cups my face with both hands, his thumb brushing away a tear with a fake gentleness that terrifies me.

“Harvey is going to bleed for touching what’s mine. And you…” He drags his lips across mine, tasting the salt of my tears. “You’re going to learn to love again the man who brought you back from the dead.”

The other two men board the jet. One closes the door with a final, heavy click. The other drops onto the couch, laughing.

“Six fucking years waiting for this. Welcome back, Evie.”

I look at them in pure terror.

“You… you’re all helping him…”

“We’re brothers,” the dark-haired one replies, cold and calm, already opening a laptop. “And you’re our brother’s woman.”

The blond carries me to the bedroom at the back of the jet and locks the door behind us.

I back up until my legs hit the king-sized bed, eyes wide with dread.

“Don’t come near me.”

He shrugs off his wet jacket, then peels off his shirt, revealing a powerful, tattooed chest. One of the tattoos is my face. Around his neck hangs a silver chain with a wedding ring. My eyes lock onto it. Something twists inside me again—that same strange, confusing heat. I felt something when I looked into his eyes at the church.

“That… that is…”

“Yours,” he finishes, stalking toward me slowly. “Just like you.”

I try to run for the bathroom. He catches me by the waist, throws me onto the bed, and climbs over me, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand.

“Six years, Evie,” he growls, dragging his mouth down my neck, sucking and biting my skin. “Six years without touching you. Without feeling you. Without hearing you moan my name.”

I sob, but my treacherous body reacts—my nipples harden against the damp dress, and my thighs squeeze slightly around him.

“I don’t remember you… please…”

He lifts his head and stares straight into my eyes.

“Then I’ll make you remember. Starting right now.”

His free hand slides down my body and rips the wedding dress open all the way to my waist.

The jet begins to taxi down the runway.

And as New York fades behind us, I understand with absolute terror that this man won’t stop until he’s completely broken me.