Julian didn't remember leaving the office. He didn't remember taking the private elevator down to the underground garage, nor did he remember starting his car.

All he knew was the deafening roar of the Porsche’s engine as he tore through the streets of Austin, his hands gripping the steering wheel

The private investigator had cost Julian fifty thousand dollars and taken four agonizing days to bypass the privacy blocks Clara had put in place. When the address finally pinged on Julian’s phone, he hadn't packed a bag. He hadn't told his assistant. He had simply walked out of his penthouse, drive

The glass doors of the Thorne-Vance executive floor slid silently open, admitting a ghost into the beating heart of the tech empire.

Julian Thorne walked out of the private elevator. He hadn't slept in three days. His bespoke suit was severely wrinkled, smelling of stale airplane air and ocean sal