Marcus's pulse quickened as the vision vanished.The image had lasted no more than two seconds, but it was enough. He had seen gasoline spreading across the warehouse floor, a man striking a lighter, and an explosion powerful enough to erase everything inside. This wasn't an accident waiting to happen—it was a carefully planned cover-up.He looked toward the warehouse doors where Damien was still speaking calmly with the city inspectors. To everyone else, Damien appeared composed, even cooperative. Marcus knew better. The slight twitch in Damien's jaw and the constant glances toward his watch told a completely different story. He wasn't trying to stop the inspection anymore. He was trying to delay it until someone inside finished their job.Marcus slipped around the back of the neighboring building and made his way toward the rusted fence. Years of neglect had left several openings large enough for a person to crawl through. He moved carefully, staying out of sight as the voices near

Marcus spun around, his pulse hammering against his ribs.The room behind him was empty.For a brief second, he wondered if the creaking floorboard had only been his imagination. Then another sound echoed through the basement. It wasn't loud, but it was unmistakable.A quiet sob.Someone was crying.Marcus instinctively picked up the server and moved toward the sound. The basement stretched far beyond what the official building plans had shown. Narrow hallways branched into old storage rooms, and several heavy steel doors lined the walls. Most of them had rusted shut years ago.The crying came again.This time it was clearer."Help..."Marcus stopped in front of the last door in the corridor.A thick chain wrapped around the handles, but someone had already cut part of it. He pushed hard, and the weakened chain snapped with a loud metallic crack. The door swung inward, revealing a small room with no windows.A young woman sat on the floor with her hands tied behind her back. Her cloth

The next morning felt strangely normal.For the first time since his life had fallen apart, Marcus woke up in a comfortable bed instead of on cold concrete. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, and for a few moments he simply lay there, staring at the ceiling.Life was funny.A week ago, he had been the man everyone wanted to impress.Three days ago, he had been the man people crossed the street to avoid.Now he was somewhere in between, rebuilding a life he refused to lose again.A knock came at the door."You awake?" Richard called.Marcus smiled."Come in."Richard stepped inside wearing a navy polo shirt instead of one of his usual expensive suits."I've got breakfast downstairs.""And before you ask, Margaret insisted."Marcus laughed."So she runs this house?"Richard sighed dramatically."I own the building.""Margaret owns me."They both laughed as they headed downstairs.The smell of pancakes, eggs, fresh bread, and coffee filled the dining room. Margaret stood proudly bes

The ballroom quieted as the painting was carried onto the stage. It was an enormous oil portrait of a woman standing beside a lake at sunset, and the gold frame alone looked more expensive than most people's houses. Marcus stared at it for a moment, not because he cared about art, but because the strange pressure behind his eyes had returned. A vision was coming.He blinked once.The ballroom disappeared.He saw the auctioneer announcing the opening price. He saw Damien raising his paddle. He saw a famous investor bidding against him. Then he saw Victoria whispering something into Damien's ear, followed by a furious argument near the private elevators.The vision shifted.A red folder.A signature.A bank account.Then one sentence appeared in his mind with terrifying clarity.The painting is not the real prize.Marcus's eyes opened.The vision was gone."Mr. Hale?"Evelyn's voice pulled him back.She was standing beside him, studying his face."You disappeared for a second."Marcus s

Evelyn stared at Marcus as though she wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. The music from the ballroom continued behind them, laughter and conversation filling the luxurious hotel, but all she could hear was the strange certainty in his voice."I just saw you die."She swallowed. "What exactly does that mean?"Marcus glanced toward the elevator, then toward the crowded ballroom. His mind was already racing through the vision. The parking garage. Two men. A gun. Evelyn falling. The terrifying part wasn't that he had seen her in danger. It was that he had seen himself arriving too late."I can't explain it here.""Then explain it somewhere else."Marcus caught her wrist gently before she could step into the elevator. "You're staying with me."Evelyn looked down at his hand, then back at him. "You're acting very strange.""Good. Then take me seriously."She studied his face and realized he wasn't joking. Whatever had happened, Marcus was genuinely frightened for her."Fine," she said