"You should leave before security tosses you out into the street," Clara said, throwing her head back with a sharp laugh.She stood beside a gleaming, cherry-red supercar in the center of the showroom. The price tag on the windshield read three hundred thousand dollars. She smoothed down her silk designer dress, adjusting the massive diamond ring Julian Hayes had bought her last week. Three years ago, she swore she loved me. Now, she looked at my plain dark bodyguard suit like I was dirt stuck to the bottom of her expensive heels.So, she really thought a cheap ring and a rich boyfriend made her royalty."I have business here, Clara," I said calmly, resting my hands in my pockets. "You don't need to worry about me.""Business?" She sneered, taking a step toward me. "What business could a disgraced ex-convict possibly have in a luxury dealership? You're a low-level servant for Evelyn Sterling. You probably make minimum wage carrying her bags. Do you think standing near these cars will

Director Arthur Vance walked into the high-end car dealership like he owned the entire street. His expensive silk tie sat straight against a crisp white shirt, and his polished leather shoes clicked against the marble tiles. He stopped right beside Clara, putting a heavy arm around her shoulders while giving me a disdainful look."Well, well," Arthur said, his voice echoing through the glass showroom. "If it isn't the disgraced analyst. I heard a rumor that an ex-convict was causing trouble in my favorite dealership."I stood beside the slick black supercar, keeping my hands in my suit pockets. My pulse stayed completely steady. Three years ago, this exact man signed the fraudulent order that froze my family's bank accounts. He took bribes from Julian Hayes to ruin my parents, driving them out of their home while I rotted in the Black Iron Fortress. He thought he was untouchable back then. He thought he was untouchable today."Director Vance," I said, keeping my tone light and convers

Rain pounded the concrete outside, but down in the sub-basement parking garage, the air tasted like stale oil and cold damp dust.I stood beside the rear door of Evelyn’s armored Mercedes sedan, holding it open as she slid onto the leather seat. She dropped her briefcase on the cushion next to her and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her face looked pale under the flickering fluorescent tubes overhead."Long meeting," she murmured, leaning her head back. "Julian's lawyers are getting desperate. They know the debt buyout is coming.""Let them sweat," I said, shutting her door with a solid thud.Anyway, desperate people make sloppy choices. I walked around to the driver's side and got behind the wheel.I put the key into the ignition and cranked engine. The V8 engine hummed softly in the cavernous space. I adjusted my rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Evelyn closing her eyes. She thought the day's danger was over because the corporate suits had packed up their briefcases and left th

The quiet hum of the executive elevator felt heavy as we descended toward the underground parking garage. Evelyn stood beside me, her arms crossed tight against her chest, her sharp eyes fixed on the reflective steel doors. She had been silent since we left the executive suite. That was never a good sign.Usually, she barked orders or reviewed financial reports on her tablet. Today, she just stared."You handled those men back at the harbor very quickly," she said, breaking the silence without looking at me."They were sloppy," I replied, keeping my voice flat and casual. "Street thugs usually rely on noise rather than actual technique. A little pressure on the right joints goes a long way.""Right. Simple pressure." Her tone dripped with mild sarcasm. "And I suppose the city code inspector's sudden change of heart was just poor stress management on his part?"I offered a small, dismissive shrug. "Some people break under the weight of their own dirty laundry. Anyway, we should get you

The air in the basement garage smelled like burnt diesel and wet concrete. By the way, forty-eight stories above us, Evelyn was still sitting in a tense board meeting. She thought her chief technical strategist was simply taking a late coffee break.He was not taking a coffee break.I stood by the heavy steel exit door, watching Arthur Sterling, the senior executive who had been leaking company secrets for six months. He carried a leather briefcase stuffed with encrypted flash drives containing our newest patent designs. He walked fast. His polished designer shoes squeaked against the epoxy floor."Going somewhere, Vice President Arthur?" I asked.Arthur stopped cold. He turned around, his expensive silk tie slightly crooked. He looked at my cheap security guard jacket with total disdain."What are you doing down here, Vance?" he barked. His voice echoed off the concrete pillars. "Move out of my way. I have an urgent off-site client presentation.""An off-site presentation in the unde