Prologue
Threat from the Past
The foreboding figure of a dangerous man prowled the darkened pavement. His narrowed eyes searched the dark alley as he drew further in.
"You can't hide!" His gravelly voice had turned low, but the coldness did not match the fire in his eyes.
With clenched fists and twitching jaw muscles, the tall man approached the only possible place his new nemesis could have been hiding.
"Wait!" a blonde figure stumbled from behind the only dumpster, and hectic blue eyes looked into that of his former friend's. "Just wait, please!"
"Right," The tall man hissed with a sneer. "So you can run away again?"
A shrug followed, "No… but I know something that could very well destroy you."
"Your leverage is miniscule to my wrath, don't push me," he took a step forward, making the blonde man flinch back.
"Okay!" He raised his hands in defeat. "Sure, you might be willing to risk yourself – but would you risk Georgie?"
Darcy's jaw clenched for the fifteenth time that night. "Don't call her that."
"Let me go," the blonde man calmly said, "then you'll never hear from me again."
With furrowed brows Darcy attempted to ignore his clenched fists and the burning anger fueling them. He closed his eyes and thought of his sister. His fists unclenched.
"Go."
Without being need to be told twice, the blonde man quickly stumbled out of the dark hell he left behind, barely glancing at Darcy before he fled off into the city night.
"I won't forget, Wickham."