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The darkness was not complete—it was a deep, velvet pulse, humming with the sound of a heavy engine and the faint scent of crushed cedar and costly cologne. / Chapter 2 / 8

Chapter 2 - The Cage of Glass

Sirens blared in the distance as Julian’s body instantly shielded hers, slamming her down onto the leather seat. Outside, automatic gunfire ripped through the silence of the private estate's driveway.

"Stay down!" Julian growled.

Through the cracked, bullet-resistant glass, Lena saw men in tactical gear moving through the treeline. Julian pulled a matte-black firearm from beneath his jacket with practiced, effortless precision. He fired twice through the reinforced side window, dropping two attackers before pulling Lena out of the vehicle and into the shadowed portico of a massive, fortress-like estate.

Bodyguards swarmed the grounds, returning fire with lethal discipline. Julian dragged her through double mahogany doors, locking out the chaos behind a slab of reinforced steel.

Lena collapsed against a marble pillar, her lungs gasping for air, her mind reeling from the transition from an art party to a warzone.

"Who were those people?" she screamed over her own trembling breaths.

Julian unbuttoned his blood-splattered suit jacket and tossed it aside, revealing a leather shoulder holster and a physique carved from brutal discipline. He walked toward her, blocking out the grand chandelier light above—just like the ones she had admired at the party.

"Those were the Castillos," Julian said coldly. "And they want you for the same reason I have you. Because whoever holds the last heiress of the Marsh bloodline controls the port leases of New York."

"My father was an art dealer!" Lena cried, her voice cracking. "He didn't own ports!"

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The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the freezing slate beneath my spine. The blinding white vortex of snow kicked up by the downdraft burned my eyes, but I forced my lids open, locking my gaze onto the amber visor of the rescue specialist dropping out of the sky.

The screech of the chopper’s rotor blades vibrated directly through the...

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking against the pristine hospital linoleum. He reached for the tray table, his fingers brushing the edge of the papers. His voice was low, coated in a practiced, corporate calm that made my stomach churn worse than the spiked blood pressure.

Daniel stepped toward the bed, his polished leather shoes squeaking agai...

The silence in the dining room stretched thin, heavy enough to slice with a butter knife. Robert, Michael’s father, adjusted his napkin, completely oblivious to the silent war being fought across the porcelain plates.

The silence in the dining room stretched thin, heavy enough to slice wit...

Julian took a step closer, cupping her face in his hand, his eyes burning into hers. "Your father was a front man for the Russian Syndicate, Lena. And his biggest secret wasn't a painting. It was you."

Chapter Hook: Suddenly, the estate's power cut out completely, plunging them into pitch blackness, followed by the heavy click of a gun being cocked directly behind Lena's head.

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