BOUND BY FIRE; BY DAY THEY HUNTED EACH OTHER AND BY NIGHT THEY BURNED

ooks, chauffeurs. The mansion was always full, yet he always felt alone. Born into the rul

ow. They were born just a year apart and had been raised under the same brutal roof, trained by the same

ch other in ways no one else could. Jeff was the only one who ever saw Jay break. The only one who knew that und

ill a kind of loneliness Jay couldn't shake. A h

aporn, never raised his voice, but his words cut like razors. "In this line of duty," he once told

vaporn crushed that hope without blinking. "Anyone can betray anyone," he continued. "Even

sobedience isn't punished, it's erased. So Jay learned to lock his heart behin

t believ

eved in

ly person he was taugh

distractions. And distractions got you killed. He learned that lesson early, when he cried at age nine, and his father slapped the softness out of him in front of

es without leaving a bruise. While others fell in love, he learned how to lie with his eyes and kill with his silence. In a world of wolves, Jay made

d, beg. He vowed he would never be like them. "I don't need anyone," he once told Jeff, lighting a cigar

cut diamonds. Jay caught him. Not his father. Not his men. He didn't call for help. He took the man to the edge of the river, tied his hands with wire, and sat across from him with a knife in one hand and a

d his neck like a medal. Then he tossed the body into t

ed him on the shoulder. "Now the

loud, but fear felt bett

s world. When Vavaporn suspected her of leaking intel, Jay didn't ask questions. He poisoned her drink himself .Watched her choke, he

m."One day, you'll go too far, Jay." Jay

as treason. He didn't love. He

le, the more he convinced

pire. He is ruthless, hot-tempered, and fearless

around for fun. Gender has never been

A

ies in Jack's childhood. Only orders. By ten, Jack could assemble explosives and read people's intentions better than most adults. B

akness." Jack knew what his father meant. He'd seen the way his father's face hardened whenever Jack's eyes lingered too long on a man. The way his fists clenched when Jack didn't bring girls home like the other heirs did. So Jack locked that part

ove wasn't just a weaknes

ies, quiet at first, then utterly destructive. He didn't waste bullets. He didn't offer second chances. He had burned en

wake and stare at th

? Or just what I do for them?" He hated the

-a boy named Patchara. They were fifteen, and J

dn't feel like control. But one night, Patchara disappea

ound out. From that night on, Jack n

anyone close enough

n a suit with a voice like smoke and hands that only reached out to command or to punish. Jack knew early

ruised and bloody, but smiling. He'd won. He felt, for once, alive. Mr. Charlie didn't speak. He simply called his guards, pointed to Jack, and

his throat slit. But Jack understood the message, I will kill for you... but I will also kill who you are. So Jack gave him what he wanted. He becam

as a son, but as an investment. "You are not allowed to be ordinary, Jack," Mr. Charlie o

most people are already shaking. He's cold on the outside, distant and unrea

pulate. That's why Jack keeps his walls high and impenetrable. He doesn't let anyone close. He assumes t

oia isn't

rt. But Joy used him-spying on him, feeding secrets to his family's enemies, and nearly tearing every

his heart. And he learned