Plotting to kill someone is one thing.
Learning he’s your baby’s father?
Well, fates got a f*@ked-up sense of humor.
I had one mission: Send Leonid Kuznetsov to his grave.
The man they call The Raven.
The monster who killed my brother.
For years, Ive dreamt of the moment Id stand over Leonid Kuznetsovs body,
the man responsible for my brothers death,
And watch as the light faded from his eyes.
Stepping into the lions den,
I was supposed to infiltrate the auction at Leonid Kuznetsovs private club,
not for the diamonds, but for vengeance.
The Raven had to fall.
He was the enemy,
the embodiment of everything I hated.
Yet, one look into those piercing eyes, and I knew—I was screwed.
Because fate played its cruel hand, intertwining our lives in the most messed up way possible.
Hes the father of my child.
