Dylan

prologue

NICHOLAS SINCLAIR

I've always known that life catches up to those who deserved it, karma was ready and waiting to serve justice.

Although I've been a dick in a portion of my time on earth, I've spent the rest of my lifetime trying to make up for it. Dedicating hours upon hours to try and rid the oblivious public of the dangers that walk beside them. Risking my life was something I did often for my occupation though I had no complaints, it was a willing action. Comfort was a cage I'd become too comfortable in and this job kept me on my toes, nothing compared.

Until my son was born, followed by six more.

And a daughter.

A little princess.

My seven boys caused havoc in every area of life but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way, their mother wasn't in the picture but that wasn't important. I had a small but sufficient support system around me, and more than enough money to ensure that they had everything they wanted, as well as more than enough love to give them.

My childhood wasn't an uncommon one, flakey father with a mother who loved drugs more than her own kid, a story of children all around the world.

I knew the feeling of not having loving parents and my kids would never go through that.

Though I was still learning, and as a parent one thing you had to remember was that the love you have for your child stays even when they do the most aggravating things.

And right now I didn't know whether to laugh or scream at the multicoloured mural on my white walls.

She batted her long eyelashes at me, "It wasn't me daddy, honest," tucking a strand of hair  behind her ear with a hand decorated in paint remains.

"Are you sure about that Dylan,"

She crossed her arms and huffed, "Yes, you're blaming me it was Grey,"

Dylan was the second most trouble during her terrible two's, Ares and Adonis coming in joint first. But the difference between them was that the boys owned what they did, Dylan would have all the evidence pointing at her and still look you straight in the eye and tell you she wasn't involved.

And honestly you'd believe her.

Her bottom lip started to wobble the longer I stared, "I just wanted to paint you a picture," she cried.

Lifting her into my arms I rubbed her back gently, "I know sweetheart, next time we'll paint on paper yeah," she nodded her head against my chest.

"No more painting on walls daddy,"

"No more princess."

Even though it matched absolutely nothing in the house and made everyone double take I never painted over it, it was the first gift I'd received from my daughter.

* * *

I feel fingertips trying to reach me, switching on the light I was met with a worried looking Arlo.

"What's wrong little man?"

"I went to get some milk and from the window I saw flashing, like a code in that movie. Then I heard a noise,"

If they were coming for me they already would've -

"Alro wait here,"

I rushed along the corridor checking all my kids were safe when I pulled the cover and saw them safely sleeping my heart filled each time, until I got to Dylan's room and found her bed empty.

A note lay in the middle:

you put away our leader, be glad we only took one.

I already suspected the Albanian Mafia and this just confirmed my theory, due to their mistakes we were able to locate them all and track them down.

Except Dylan.

It had been weeks and we still couldn't find her.

Coming home late from another search I saw her painting staring back at me, I let my fingers trace over it as I felt the tears.

A hand on my shoulder stopped me from breaking down completely, I knew it was Alexander he was watching my kids along with the double protection that had been put in place.

"Nick you can't keep doing this, we're going to find her. I promise I'll stop everything to help you find her but you can't neglect your other kids too,"

"I know,"

I didn't even really get to be her father and I already failed her.

I'm so sorry Dylan.

- x -

author's note: prologue done, what do you guys think?