Damian watched the city of Athens pass by on the other side of the window. Aria was out there. He could feel her. Could sense her waiting for him.

I’m coming for you, Aria. I’m coming.

After nearly two months, it was finally true.

They’d landed in Tanagra well after dark and climbed into a waiting Range Rover already loaded with weapons. Damian didn’t ask questions. The members of the Syndicate were powerful men with resources all over the world.

Clearly they were a well-oiled machine.

He was in the backseat with Luca and Christophe, Farrell at the wheel as Nico sat in the passenger seat. Damian looked at Vitale in profile, comforted by the fact that the other man looked unperturbed by the coming mission. Then again, Damian had the feeling Nico could be standing on top of a powder keg and still be calm.

The significance of the men in the car wasn’t lost on him. They’d reached a cruising altitude in one of the Syndicate’s private jets when Nico had lowered himself to the seat next to Damian. He hadn’t wasted time on small talk.

“We’re all here,” he’d said. “We’re her for Aria. For you.”

Damian had nodded. It was no small thing to have all four of the Syndicate’s leaders personally involved in the mission to rescue Aria. They were making a point — proving they meant what they said about brotherhood. However they felt about Damian’s involvement with Aria Fiore, she was his woman, and they were all in to get her back.

But that was where their assistance would stop.

Nico had clapped him on the shoulder. “After this you’re on your own until we get New York under control.”

“I understand,” Damian said.

And he did. They’d brought him in to retake New York. Rescuing Aria hadn’t been part of the bargain. They were coming through for him to give him a taste of what it meant to be part of the Syndicate’s brotherhood, but once Aria was safe, he would have to deliver on his end of the bargain to continue the partnership.

Doing so would be more than a matter of honor for Damian. After what Primo and Malcolm had done to Aria, it would be a matter of principle to take them out.

Stefano Anastos, too.

He would worry about that later. After he had Aria back in his arms. Right now saving her was all that mattered. It was a realization he’d come to slowly over the past two months; the business he’d built, the money he’d made, even the fuck you to his father, meant nothing without her.

Had he come to the realization at another moment in time, he might have fought it. He might have rebelled against the idea that a woman could mean more to him than proving a point to his dead father.

As it was, there was no time for games — not even with himself. He’d accepted the truth as soon as it was made known to him.

His life had been empty before her.

He’d been going through the motions but that was all. He hadn't been truly alive until she’d touched him. Wouldn’t be alive again until she was safe.

He returned his thoughts to the mission at hand. They’d made their way through the suburbs of Athens and had entered the dirtier, grittier streets of Omonoia. It reminded him of inner cities in the U.S., the storefronts populated by electronics stores and tiny groceries catering to a population that didn’t have access to larger markets. Trash lined the street and graffiti adorned the buildings in a riot of color. Damian knew from his research on the area that it was routinely targeted by the police, that it was a weekly occurrence of the department to conduct raids, loading up drug dealers and criminals only to return the following week for more of the same.

Of course, he was betting Stefano Anastos’s men were immune to arrest. Damian knew how it worked, knew firsthand there was always someone willing to look the other way for a supplement to their meager police force paycheck.

Police officers had to feed their families, too.

“Half a mile,” Farrell said from the driver’s seat.

“We’re sure they’re not expecting us?” Christophe asked next to Damian.

“Better not to be sure of anything,” Nico said. “As far as we know, Anastos doesn’t have informants at the Tanagra airport, and the money we slipped to Customs should have kept our arrival quiet there, but it’s safer not to take anything for granted.”

Damian wasn’t surprised by Nico’s advice. He was beginning to understand the various strengths and weaknesses of the Syndicate’s leaders. Nico was cautious and practical — except when it came to Angel. Farrell was violent and rash, and a hell of a lot smarter than he looked. Christophe was reserved, even a little cold, but calculating, where Luca was quiet and amenable, seemingly happy to let the others call the shots.

“I’m going to pull up a block away,” Farrell said. “No reason to tip them off to visitors outside the building. Luca, you keep the car idling there and use comms to let us know if you have to move for any reason. As we discussed, I’ll take the back with Damian. Nico and Christophe will take the front.”

“Will do,” Luca said.

“Get your comms and weapons ready,” Nico said. “Damian’s sources have been paid to keep Anastos’s men busy, but not for long. We need to be on the move as soon as we stop.”

Damian switched on the earpiece he’d been given when they exited the plane in Tanagra and Luca handed weapons to each of them.

There was nothing more to say. Entering from two different locations would give them a chance if one of the entrances was being watched by Anastos’s men. They would meet at the bottom of the stairs and make their way to the fourth floor. They knew Aria was being kept in one of two apartments, but there was no way to further isolate her location without going in. That meant each team would have to take one apartment.

Only one of them would have the right one and they would get Aria out by any means necessary.

They would get themselves out the same way.

Damian didn’t expect anything more concrete than what they had. Raids were fluid. There was no telling what would be on the other side of the door. There was only the process: as covert an entry as possible, the clearing of the location room by room, the ability to eliminate any obstacle in the path of their objective — getting Aria out alive.

Farrell pulled up to the curb outside a fast-food establishment and Nico handed him a semi-automatic weapon. Farrell checked the magazine and slammed it back into place.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Damian opened the door.

They moved across the sidewalk, he and Farrell sprinting down a cramped alley toward the back of the building where Aria was being held while Nico and Christophe headed for the street that ran in front of it.

Damian ignored the noise of the city around him, the curious eyes of passersby and store owners as they rushed forward in their tactical gear. With any luck, the citizens of Omonoia would assume they were with the police department.

Either that or they were with Anastos.

Damian didn’t care either way. He was focused on one thing and one thing only — getting Aria out alive.

Whatever the cost.