Arlo
We pull up to the edge of the Taggart estate, and the second I step out of the SUV, something’s off. The place looks deserted, and the air is far too still. The usual guard posts along the perimeter are empty, no sign of movement or patrols. My gut churns—this reeks of a setup.
"Stay sharp," I mutter to my men, eyes scanning every corner of the vast property. We move closer, taking the route Maisie suggested—through the trees, avoiding any obvious entrances. She’d mentioned the forest on the east side was usually left unguarded, but that doesn’t mean we’re in the clear. If anything, the silence around us makes it worse, like we're walking right into the eye of a storm.
As we snake through the thick trees, the tension ratchets up. Every step feels heavy with danger, and the further
