Julian took two long strides ahead of me, his shoes echoing down the quiet hallway. He didn't look back once. I squeezed my bag against my ribs, keeping pace right at his shoulder until the double glass doors of the executive suite slid open.
Andrew Cross sat behind a massive desk that overlooked the city skyline. He looked every bit the powerful patriarch silvering hair neatly slicked back, a tailored gray suit, and a warm, practiced smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Beside him, two large monitors glowed softly, one displaying a grid of security feeds.
"Ah, good," Andrew said, leaning back in his leather chair and folding his hands over his stomach. "The next generation of the Cross
family."
Julian stopped three feet from the desk, hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets.
"You
