The white light of the flash bang was still searing my retinas when the first boot hit the floor. The world was a chaotic blur of ringing ears and the smell of ozone, but that voice low, jagged, and familiar cut through the noise like a blade.
"Get your hands off my wife."
I blinked, my vision slowly stitching itself back together. Silas stood in the wreckage of the balcony doors, the billowing curtains framing him like a dark shroud. He wasn't the man in the polished suits I’d left in New York. His overcoat was soaked with Swiss rain, his jaw was set in a line of pure iron, and the pistol in his hand looked like a natural extension of his arm.
He didn't look at the guards. He didn't look at the helicopter hovering like a mechanical beast outside. His eyes were locked on mine, burning w
