PROLOGUE

      BEING EQUAL NUMBER TWO on the international rich list might have made Leonidas Stathakis the envy of the world, but Leonidas knew from personal experience that money was a poor substitute for having what you really wanted in life.

      Billions in the bank didn’t take away the empty throb of loss that dogged your steps when you’d had to bury your loved ones.

      Being rich didn’t take away the grief, nor the guilt, nor the pain and the sense of impotence at knowing you had put someone in harm’s way—that you had failed to protect them.

      This was his fourth New Year’s Eve without his family. The fourth year he’d seen draw to a close with only memories of his wife, Amy, and their two-year-old son, Brax.

      It felt like a lifetime.

      When he closed his eyes, he saw her as clearly as if she were standing in front of him. He’d never forget the way she smiled, as though she’d struck a match inside and happiness was exploding out of her.

      How could someone so full of life and vitality simply cease to exist? For all her strength, she’d been so weak at the end, so fragile. Ploughed into while walking Brax to the playground. What chance did either of their bodies stand against that hunk of metal, commanded by a madman?

      Hair that had been a vibrant russet with eyes that were the same shade as the ocean beyond this hotel; he saw her as she’d been in life, and then, as she’d been in death.

      He would never forget Amy Stathakis, nor the violent fate that had awaited her, murdered because of his father’s