Chapter 5
Ethan pulled a small hand pistol from his desk drawer, holding it with shaking, unpracticed hands.
“Stay behind me, Vanessa,” Ethan stammered, aiming the weapon directly at the heavy elevator doors.
“It’s probably just a transformer blowout downstairs!”
The elevator doors slid open with a smooth, terrifying hiss.
Six men stepped out into the private foyer, dressed in tailored charcoal suits and tactical body armor.
Every single one of them was carrying suppressed automatic rifles pointed directly at Ethan’s chest.
Behind them stepped a tall, broad-shouldered man in a bespoke black wool overcoat.
He had silver-streaked hair, a cold, carved-marble face, and eyes as black as midnight.
In his right hand, he held a leather-wrapped walking stick tipped with a heavy gold lion skull.
Vincent Moretti had arrived.
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The wall clock struck 8:08 PM.
Eight minutes exactly.
