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The air in the tiny blue house suddenly felt too thin to breathe. Damian Morrison, a man who commanded global conglomerates with a single nod, stood frozen in the doorway, his designer overcoat contrasting sharply with the peeling wallpaper. / Chapter 8 / 9

Chapter 9 - THE FINAL CONFRONTATIONThe syndicate wasn't finished. A final operative remained, hiding in the shadows of the estate. He had one goal: finish what the father started.

Damian felt the cold steel of a barrel against his neck as he walked into the garden.

"You destroyed us," the operative hissed.

"I destroyed a prison," Damian replied.

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The heavy mahogany door of the east gallery closed softly behind me, but the silence inside did not comfort me. It pressed down like lead.

The heavy mahogany door of the east gallery closed softly behind me, but...

The cool marble of the private east gallery felt chilling beneath my fingertips. The pale moonlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows illuminated The Blue Woman, the haunting masterpiece my mother had painted just weeks before her tragic death.

The cool marble of the private east gallery felt chilling beneath my fin...

He didn't run. He turned, grabbed the man’s arm, and used his momentum to throw him into the frozen fountain.

The struggle ended as the police surrounded the gardens.

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