At exactly 6:40 p.m., Ben heard the faint rumble of engines in the distance. He stood from his chair, dusted his palms on his trousers, and listened carefully.
The sound grew louder, clearer, until the first flash of headlights broke through the line of trees that guarded the narrow road to his cabin.
Ben’s heartbeat quickened. No one ever visited here.
Moments later, the crunch of tires against gravel filled the compound. The dim light from the lantern hanging by the door illuminated what looked like a convoy — five luxurious black cars, polished and gleaming even under the dusk.
Three bodyguards stepped out of each car, lining up silently like shadows. Then the door of the first car opened.
Ben blinked hard.
A woman stepped out, tall, elegant, her poise radiating power and grace
