10

GARETH Kayden Lockwood. That’s the name of the motherfucker who used my mouth to get off last night. The man who held me at gunpoint, grazed my hand with a bullet, and called me grotesque, a whore, and a useful hole, among other things. The asshole who humiliated me like no one else has. I woke up today dead set on revenge, on finding him and making him bleed. I considered striking a deal with Yulian, where I provide him with an invitation to the initiation and he gives me the identity of this motherfucker. But that’s no longer necessary. Because the bastard is looking at me. And I’m finally putting a face to the voice of the man I’ve been fantasizing about stabbing a thousand times. A sharp jaw, features carved with subtle authority, and jet-black hair that’s cropped tight on the sides but long enough on top to be styled back with ruthless precision. His full, defined lips are set in a cold, impassive line as if he finds this entire ordeal bland. Faint stubble brushes his cheeks, enha