Chapter 3 - THE BREACH AT GREENWICH
A tall silhouette blocked the warm light pouring from the hallway into the dimly lit luxury master suite.
Marcus dropped his leather briefcase onto the hardwood floor with a dull, heavy thud that rattled the nightstands.
He reached toward the waistband of his dark navy trousers, his hand hovering near a concealed sidearm.
"Don't shoot, Marcus," a low, rasping voice growled from the darkness of the threshold.
"Gabriel..." Marcus breathed out, his dark slicked hair catching the faint ambient light of the room.
Gabriel Thorne stepped into the room, holding a heavy steel cane that struck the floor with every methodical step.
His face was half-covered by surgical scars, a permanent reminder of the explosion that should have killed him in Miami.
"You left me in the burning wreckage, took my shares, and hid my sons," Gabriel sneered, glaring at the twins.
May you like
Leo squeezed his eyes shut, whispering frantically into Evelyn's green silk robe: "Daddy, make the bad shadow go away!"
***
