Chapter 1 - THE BLOOD ON THE WET ASPHALTDaniel Han did not blink.
The drop of rainwater tracing the line of his jaw was not rainwater at all; under the fluorescent hum of the institutional kitchen, the dark smear near his hairline had the distinct, coppery sheen of arterial spray.
Evelyn watched the shift in his shoulders—the imperceptible drop of his left arm where a custom-weighted holster rested beneath his wool coat. In eight years of marriage, she had learned to read the weather of a man who owned half the shipping docks on the Pacific Rim through micro-expressions alone. Right now, the barometer was at zero.
"Daniel," Evelyn said, her voice steady as she set down her ceramic spoon. "Your mother said the table was for family."
The heavy double doors behind Daniel swung open an inch. Through the narrow gap, the crystal chandelier of the grand dining room cast a warm, mocking amber glow across the teak floorboards. A burst of laughter—Marcus’s high, braying tone—drifted through the gap, followed by the clear, musical chime of crystal clinking against crystal.
Daniel did not turn around. His dark eyes remained fixed on the red rice and roasted peppers sitting in the stainless-steel bowl.
"Grace," Daniel said, without raising his voice, yet every syllable dropped like lead shot onto a drum.
The elderly housekeeper froze by the pantry shelves, her hands clutching a linen cloth so tightly her knuckles shone white. "Sir?"
"Lock the exterior perimeter gates. Double the rotation on the south wall. If anyone—family or guest—steps foot outside the main house before I clear the rooms, use whatever level of force is required to keep them inside."
Grace bowed her head once. "Yes, Mr. Han."
"Daniel," Evelyn stepped closer, her hand sliding across the counter to brush against the thick cream-colored envelope Grace had just handed her. "You shouldn't have come back alone. The route through Mercer Island—they knew which way you were taking."
Daniel’s head snapped toward her. The raw intensity in his gaze was enough to strip paint.
"How do you know about the Mercer route?"
"Your mother asked security for your itinerary before dinner," Evelyn answered, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "And Victor and Marcus manufactured the meeting that sent you across the city. They wanted you off the estate until midnight. Grace gave me the files."
She tapped the envelope. Inside were the proofs of the corporate espionage, the financial drain, the systematic sabotage of the port transitions, and the surveillance logs tracking her every movement for the past nine months—all ordered and paid for by the matriarch herself, Sun-hee Han.
Daniel looked down at the envelope. He didn't look surprised. That was the most terrifying part. He looked like a man who had known a bullet was coming for years and had simply been waiting to see who pulled the trigger first.
"They thought the rain would wash out the forensic markers on the sedan," Daniel said softly, reaching out to trace the cold curve of Evelyn’s cheek with a thumb that smelled faintly of gun oil and ozone. "They thought an ambush on the bridge would finish the transition project by eliminating the primary shareholder. They forgot one thing."
"What's that?" Evelyn breathed.
May you like
"You're my primary shareholder, Evie. And nobody touches my portfolio."
He turned on his heel, his heavy wool coat sweeping the air as he pushed through the swinging doors into the dining room, leaving Evelyn alone in the harsh fluorescent light with a storm breaking over Lake Washington.
