CODE NAME: TYPHON

Releasing July 18, 2024
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A man of power.
A man of professionalism.
Typhon is deadly and dangerous—a man to be feared.

As commander of Unit 23, the most secretive unit in SIS, discretion and discipline are paramount to my line of work. With my crew teaming up with M16 agents, I'm forced to come face-to-face with a negligent and careless agent from my past. I do not do unprofessional and sloppy work—not when lives are at stake.

When I encounter the most captivating woman I've ever met, there's nothing stopping me from sweeping her off of her feet, like a typhoon out of nowhere. Eliza Fox is brilliant and funny, keeping me laughing and on my toes. She's everything I never knew I wanted in a woman, including that abhorrent agent's cousin. And trust me, he hates me just as much as I hate him. Eliza's loyalty to him is the only thing keeping us apart.

But when my life is on the line, can I set my pride aside and allow the woman I'm supposed to protect and a man I abhor to save me?

CHAPTER ONE

There was only one person who the dons of the two most powerful mafia families in Italy wanted dead more than each other—the man who they were torturing within an inch of his life—me.

They captured me thirty-six hours ago and in that time, I’d refused to divulge a fucking thing. As far as what I’d admit to the two men and their goons, I was a hired gun and nothing more.

I was taken hostage within days of when Gerlando Battaglia, also known as Macellaio, the head of the Sicilian Syndicate, put a kill order in for Valerio Scaglione, also known as Prince and head of the Calabrian Syndicate. Then, Prince issued the same on Macellaio. While there were other hitmen they could’ve contracted with, and probably did, both men called upon me to take out the other.

Infiltrating both syndicates by going undercover as a contract assassin, meant I walked the thinnest of lines. As the commander of the UK’s most elite and deadly teams, Unit 23, I’d assigned myself the task I knew was fraught with more danger than any other mission I’d undertaken in my career.

That it came in the wake of me falling head-over-heels in love was in a word—tragic.

I’d sworn, vowed, given my oath to die not just for my country, but for freedom throughout the world. When my time came—which may be within a few hours—I prayed I could show the same courage and bravery the man I considered my mentor had when he died in action.

I kept my head down and eyes closed, feigning sleep—not that it would stop them—when I heard the now familiar sound of a creaking door opening. It meant my captors had returned with yet another instrument of torture designed to make me succumb and confess all that I never would, regardless of what they did to me.

My head sprang up and my eyes opened wide when what I heard instead of their jeers, was gunfire. Several rounds of it.

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