Chapter 1
252 Words
The cellar air tasted of copper and damp concrete, a stagnant weight that clung to the back of the throat.
A single, naked bulb hummed overhead, casting a harsh, flickering light that carved deep shadows into the corners of the room.
Alexander backed away, his heels clicking sharply against the floor, until the rough grit of the wall scraped through the fine silk of his cream-colored shirt.
He was breathing hard, his chest heaving, the scent of his expensive, citrusy cologne clashing with the smell of mildew and old oil.
Matthew stood three paces away.
He hadn't moved a muscle in minutes.
He remained a statue in a charcoal suit, hands clasped loosely behind his back, his posture a perfect imitation of the professional shield he had been for over a decade.
But his eyes—usually flat, opaque voids—were burning.
There was a frantic, starving energy behind his pupils, a hunger that had been simmering since he was twenty and Alexander had first bloomed into a reckless, golden youth.
"You think I was protecting you from them, Alexander?"
Matthew’s voice was a low, jagged rasp that seemed to vibrate in the small space. It lacked the deferential cadence he had used for years.
The "Sir" was gone.
The respect was gone.
Alexander spat, a glob of saliva landing on the concrete between them.
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