The patriarch's fingers curled tighter around the head of his cane. The warmth that had been in his eyes moments ago when discussing wedding venues and flower arrangements had vanished completely. What replaced it was something older and harder. The look of a man who had run out of patience with people who refused to see what was standing right in front of them."Let me remind every person in this room of something." His voice was low and rough, scraping across the silence like gravel. "That boy upstairs took a bullet near his spine. A bullet. Not a scratch. Not a bruise. A piece of metal entered his body while he was carrying my granddaughter out of a building full of armed criminals."He looked at each of them in turn. Eloise. Vivian's mother. The grandmother."If Carden had not gone into that warehouse, Vivian would not be sleeping safely in her room right now. She would be gone. Dead. Or worse." His cane struck the floor. "And yet here you all stand, picking apart the man who bled

The footsteps stopped at the threshold. A man stepped into the study with the measured ease of someone who had walked into far more intimidating rooms than this one. He was tall, mid fifties, wearing a charcoal suit that was cut with the kind of precision that only came from tailors who did not advertise. His hair was silver at the temples, combed neatly to one side. He carried a leather portfolio tucked under one arm and a slim black briefcase in his other hand.He stood in the center of the room and looked around with calm, unhurried eyes. Not arrogant. Not submissive. Simply a man who was completely comfortable with where he was and why he was there."Good morning." He dipped his head slightly. "I apologize for arriving without prior notice. My name is Victor Langston."The name landed differently on each person in the room.Richard's arms uncrossed. His brow lifted. His mouth opened slightly before closing again. He took a half step forward, his eyes scanning Victor's face as if c

Eloise pressed her fingers against the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "This does not make sense. None of it. A man like Victor Langston does not show up at someone's door because a stranger asked nicely. Someone with serious power arranged this."She turned to Victor, who was carefully placing his documents back into the leather portfolio. "Who hired you? Give us a name."Victor's expression remained perfectly composed. "As I mentioned, I am fulfilling a request. I am not authorized to reveal the identity of my client. That was the only condition attached to the arrangement.""One condition." Eloise's voice climbed. "Someone pays you a fortune and their only condition is that you keep their name hidden? Does that not strike you as suspicious?""It strikes me as private." Victor clasped the briefcase shut with a soft click. "My clients are entitled to their privacy. That is one of the reasons they choose to work with me."Vivian's mother stepped forward. "Mr. Langston, you must

"Is it worth it anymore?" Lorenzo met his father's gaze. "We sent our best men. They failed. We set traps. He escaped them. We captured his wife and he still came out on top. Every move we have made has ended the same way." He paused. "Maybe it is time to step back."The temperature in the room seemed to drop five degrees.Jerry rose from his chair slowly. The sling pressed against his chest as he turned fully toward Lorenzo. His face was rigid, the muscles along his jaw drawn so tight they looked carved from stone."Step back." Jerry repeated the words as if tasting something rotten. "My own son is telling me to surrender.""I am telling you to be strategic." Lorenzo held his ground but his voice had lost some of its firmness. "Carden is not what we thought he was. He is trained. He has resources. He has people behind him. Continuing to attack him head on is going to cost us more than we can afford.""Cost us?" Jerry laughed. It was short and bitter and carried no warmth whatsoever.

Derek stood in his grandfather's sitting room long after the old man had walked out. His eyes remained fixed on the cabinet against the far wall. Harold had not opened it. He had simply looked at it, muttered something about old matters that should stay buried, and then excused himself for the evening.That reaction alone was worth more than every report Derek had paid for over the past two weeks.He had driven back to his own residence in silence, his mind racing faster than the car. By midnight, he was on the phone with his lead investigator."I want everything connected to my grandfather's name in Ridgemont County between 1995 and 2005. Property records. Legal filings. Business transactions. Personal correspondence if you can find it."The investigator hesitated. "Mr. Chen, investigating your own family's records will require accessing files that may be protected.""Then unprotect them." Derek's grip tightened on the phone. "I am paying you to find answers, not to tell me what is d