Bruce walked into a narrow, damp alley that ran between two old brick buildings. Six Black Foot Clan operatives stood in a loose semicircle, their dark suits blending into the darkness, and their Kamui masks concealing their faces. In the center of the alley, the sniper was on his knees.His hands were securely tied behind his back with black rope. His sniper rifle had been dismantled into pieces and scattered across the wet pavement beside him.He seemed really pale and was dripping with sweat. His eyes were wide open, filled with confusion and raw terror. He kept staring at the masked figures around him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.The sniper started shaking badly as soon as he saw Bruce coming.“I-I’m sorry!” he blurted out immediately. “I didn’t know who you people were! I swear! If I knew, I never would’ve taken this job!”Bruce ignored him completely. Instead, he looked toward one of the operatives.“What happened?”The head operatives stepped forwa

Preston paced back and forth on the Persian rug in the Thorne family living room, his footsteps gradually forming a path into the expensive fibers. Robert sat on the edge of a leather armchair, his leg shaking and his fingers drumming against the armrest. Both brothers kept checking their phones obsessively. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked toward midnight.Preston stopped pacing and threw his hands up. "What's taking your guy so long? This job should have been done by now. It's almost midnight."Robert didn't look up from his phone. "He's probably taking his time to get out of the country. A job like that would put the whole city on alert. He can't just waltz onto a plane five minutes after pulling the trigger."Preston resumed pacing. "You said this guy was a professional. A professional doesn't take this long.""He is a professional," Robert snapped. "That's why he's being careful.""Careful?" Preston scoffed. "We paid him half a million dollars! I want results, not excu

Robert's face went pale when he heard it. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. No words came out. He grabbed the phone from Preston's hand and pressed it to his ear."Father, what do you mean Bruce came to the house? Was he actually there while we were on our way to his empty apartment?"Norman's voice was calm, almost too calm. "He walked in about five minutes after you left and sat down in my study like he owned the place."Preston leaned close to the phone, his heart pounding. "What did he say? What did he want?""He wanted to talk," Norman said. "And I listened."The brothers quickly exchanged worried glances."Father, what did he say?" Robert demanded. "Did you apologize? Did you beg? What happened?"Norman was silent for a moment. Then he spoke again. "Bruce told me he knows I wasn't involved in the assassination attempt. He said he knows it was just you two acting on your own. That's why he's sparing me."Preston let out a breath he didn't know he was hold

The morning sun had barely risen over the city when the invitations started arriving. Thomas Shepherd was in his study, going over papers about his investigation into Bruce Griffin, when his butler showed up with a silver tray. A single cream-colored envelope rested on it, sealed with red wax bearing the Shepherd family crest.Thomas broke the seal and read the contents. His brow tightened."A family dinner," he murmured. "At the Shepherd estate this evening. Attendance is mandatory?"He turned the card over. No further details were shared. Just the time, the place, and the command itself.Thomas set the card down and stared out the window. Bruce Dominic Shepherd had never summoned him before. His nephew always kept his distance and only communicated through Oswald. So why now? Why is he suddenly asking for a family dinner?He had no idea. But he intended to find out.At the same time, in her penthouse overlooking the ocean on the other side of the city, Abigail Shepherd received a

Thomas's voice cracked with disbelief. "Unbelievable. How could you let someone take advantage of your anger? Bruce Smith set you up. He set us all up so we could turn against each other. Why didn't you contact me first instead of running off to the chairman like a fool?"Jessica's face had gone pale. Her mind raced as she replayed every conversation, meeting, and moment spent with Bruce Smith. How he had skillfully avoided answering her questions. The way he had fed her information. The way he had saved her life—or rather, made it look like he had saved her life.She gripped the edge of the table with her hands to prevent herself from collapsing."That means...Bruce Smith was never on my side," she whispered softly. "He's been after me this whole time."She glanced upward, her eyes filled with terror."If Bruce Smith and Bruce Griffin are the same person..." Her voice trailed off as her gaze drifted to the man at the head of the table. "Then the chairman is..."Everyone turned to lo