His Flesh And Blood

That day in the ward, Austyn was about to leave. He had promised Kira he would be back for dinner and he was running almost four hours late. But Deborah’s words stopped him dead in his tracks. ‘You have a son.’ She told him the boy’s name was Aiden, Aiden Connelly. But his real name should be Aiden McCarthy. He was six years and four months old. He was supposed to be sitting in a classroom right now, but Santoro abducted him on his first day of primary school. Deborah had to do what Santoro asked if she wanted to get her son back alive. He ordered her to return to Stamford, get close to Austyn and find a way to kill him. A life for a life, he’d said. Austyn stood rooted to the spot as Deborah came clean, sobbing. Santoro had given her an impossible task. She wanted to save Aiden more than anything in the world, but she had no idea how to kill a man. Nor did she want to. She didn’t finish her medical studies, but she’d memorised the Hippocratic Oath. ‘Primum non nocere’—‘First, do no ha