THE BILLIONAIRE'S BODYGUARD IS THE SYNDICATE LORD

The rain over River City smells like exhaust fumes and cheap wet asphalt. I pulled my dark coat tighter against the damp chill as I stepped off the transport terminal. Three years away changed a place, but the greed in the air stayed exactly the same.

My fingers brushed the faint jagged mark on my collarbone. That little souvenir reminded me why I came back. Three years ago, I stood in a courtroom while Julian Hayes stole my life. My ex-fiancée Clara stood right beside him. She wore a diamond ring bought with my stolen reputation. They set me up for corporate embezzlement, laughed when the judge gave me twenty years, and watched guards haul me off to the Black Iron Fortress.

They expected me to rot underground. They thought the fortress would break my spine and dump my bones in a pit.

Instead, I conquered the pit. The Black Iron Fortress was no ordinary prison. It was the blood-soaked proving ground for the Shadow Syndicate. I survived every brutal trial they threw at me. I earned the respect of old leaders who ruled the world from dark rooms. Now, the Sovereign Command Ring sat heavy inside my inner pocket. One phone call from me could crash Julian's entire bank network by nightfall.

Anyway, revenge tastes better when you take your time. Crushing an ant with a hammer is boring. I wanted Julian and Clara to lose everything piece by piece.

So, I took a low-profile job. I applied as a simple, cheap security guard for Sterling Enterprises. Evelyn Sterling needed protection. She was the ice-queen heiress trying to save her family business from Julian's hostile takeover. Protecting her gave me a front-row seat to the corporate war. It also kept my global Syndicate network completely hidden from my enemies.

Twenty minutes later, I stood inside the glass executive office on the top floor of Sterling Tower.

Evelyn Sterling sat behind a heavy oak desk. She wore a crisp charcoal blazer. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly. Her eyes were cold, sharp, and exhausted. She flipped through my thin, fake background file with obvious doubt.

"Your background check is clean, Mr. Vance," Evelyn said, her voice dry as parchment. "Though you lack high-level corporate security experience."

"I keep people alive, Miss Sterling," I replied, keeping my posture relaxed. "I do my work quietly. You will barely notice I am there."

She let out a soft sigh and tossed the folder down. "My grandfather insisted on hiring you. He claims your references are solid. My company is facing violent pressure from the Hayes Group right now. I do not need a hero. I need someone who follows instructions."

"Instructions are my specialty," I said.

She signed the bottom of the contract and slid it toward me. "Salary starts today. You ride in my secondary security escort. Keep your eyes open."

I picked up the pen and added my signature. Perfect. The cover was locked in.

By five in the afternoon, the rain poured down in heavy gray sheets. I walked behind Evelyn as we exited the private underground garage. The air smelled of burnt oil and cold steel. She climbed into the back seat of her black armored sedan. I slipped into the front passenger seat of the lead escort car.

"Stay close to Miss Sterling's vehicle," I told the driver. The driver grunted, pulling out into the congested city street.

We turned down a narrow commercial alleyway to bypass the evening traffic. Tall brick buildings blocked the remaining daylight. Streetlights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the wet pavement.

Suddenly, my ears caught the high screech of heavy tires.

A massive flatbed garbage truck lurched out from a dark side street. It slammed its brakes sideways, blocking both lanes of the alley. Our driver stomped on the brakes, sending our tires sliding across the slick road.

Behind us, two tinted black SUVs pulled up fast, box-locking Evelyn's sedan from the rear.

Four doors popped open on the SUVs. Eight men stepped out into the pouring rain. They wore heavy leather jackets, carrying iron pipes and thick tactical batons. The leader slammed his lead pipe against the hood of Evelyn's car, the loud metal clang echoing through the narrow alleyway.

"Evelyn Sterling!" the man yelled, flashing a nasty yellow grin. "Step out of the car! Our boss wants to have a friendly word!"

Inside our lead car, the driver panicked, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. Evelyn's face turned pale behind the dark tinted glass of her sedan.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, smoothed my black suit jacket, and popped open the car door.