Ethan Vale's footsteps stopped right at the threshold of the Thorne residence. His grip on Clara's fingers loosened, leaving behind a trace of warmth that suddenly felt cold to his wife. Outside, the silhouettes of sturdy men in black bulletproof suits stood tall like statues guarding the gates of hell. Stay here, Clara. Don't come out until I return, Ethan said. His voice was no longer low and devoted, but heavy and commanding, making Clara instinctively freeze. But Ethan, who are they? The police? Jasper's enemies? Clara's voice shook violently. Ethan gave only a brief glance over his shoulder. The look was so foreign, sharp as a newly whetted blade. Just some pending administrative business, honey. Go inside. The man standing at the front of the porch steps, wearing the dragon-scale pin
