Marcus Blackthorn’s office was in the business building. Top floor. Corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking campus.
I’d never been in this building before. It smelled like expensive cologne and leather. Everything was polished wood and thick carpet. The kind of place that made it clear you didn’t belong.
His secretary barely looked at me when I walked in at four o’clock.
“Ms. Hale?”
“Yes.”
“He’s expecting you. Go right in.”
The door to his office was heavy. Solid wood. I knocked anyway.
“Enter.”
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Marcus Blackthorn sat behind a massive desk. He was in his fifties, with silver hair and sharp green eyes. Madison looked just like him. Same eyes. Same predator smile.
“Sit,” he said. Not an invitation. A command.
I sat in the c
