Chapter 11

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 pent

Chapter 12

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 a

Chapter 13

The coastal hospice facility smelled faintly of lavender and aggressively of bleach. It was a place designed for soft footsteps and hushed voices, a tranquil purgatory nestled against the gray shoreline. For the past seventy-two hours, Julian Thorne had single-handedly ruined that tranqu