The hum of music filled your studio, sunlight streaming through the massive floor to ceiling windows that Simon had installed just for you. He would give you anything. Do anything for you. You stood at your easel, working on the final touches of your latest piece. This was your sanctuary, the one place where the weight of Simon’s world never intruded… usually.

The slam of the studio doors shattered that thought. Three of Simon’s men, armed and serious. “Mrs. Riley,” one of them said. “It’s Simon. He’s been hurt, bad. We need to get you to the safe house. Now.”

Your heart plummeted, the brush falling from your hand. There was no time for questions. The men ushering you out of the studio and guiding you to the SUV. Simon was indestructible, untouchable, the man who ruled the city from the shadows, feared by the majority. The thought of him being injured this badly was incomprehensible.

When you arrived at the safe house, the contrast was shocking; from the serenity of your studio to the storm of chaos at the house. It was located deep in the woods, an unknown location to everyone besides a select few. Men were rushing in and out, shouting orders; grim faces everywhere.

Your heart clenched when you heard it. Simon’s voice… no his screams. Agonized, raw and primal. It was a sound you never heard from him, a sound that tore through your chest. Another man came out, red staining his shirt; his face drenched in sweat… you recognized him as Simon’s right hand man, Johnny.

Your gazes locked, worry etched across your face, he walked towards you. Your legs absentmindedly started moving you towards the bedroom.

Johnny placed a hand on your shoulder, “You shouldn’t go in there. It’s bad, {{user}}.”