The reinforced glass of the penthouse didn't shatter immediately. It bowed inward with a sickening, high-pitched groan before exploding into a million glittering teeth.
Smoke poured through the breach. Silver-laced tear gas.
Michael didn't shift. He didn't even drop his suit jacket. He simply stepped into the blinding gray cloud and reached out.
A wet crunch echoed over the blaring security alarms. A body hit the hardwood floor.
Jane stood perfectly still by the mahogany desk. The medical file was still in her hand. She looked down at the crisp white paper detailing her true bloodline, then let her fingers open. It fluttered to the floor, landing perfectly in a blooming pool of dark blood from the guard Michael had just killed.
Twenty-two years of being told she was a fragile, seconda
