Dusk bled slowly into night, the sun sinking as stars tilted faintly across the sky. A thin veil of fading light filtered through the window, brushing softly against the room.
Sarah Lacy lay asleep in Matthew Powell’s arms.
Her breathing was steady, her body finally relaxed after everything she had endured. The warmth of his chest anchored her, as if only here could she truly rest.
But while daylight retreated, the world beneath it was only beginning to stir.
Darkness had just arrived.
At the Supreme Club, inside the general manager’s office, the atmosphere was cold and oppressive.
Joseph Bailey sat behind his desk, his gaze sharp and icy as he stared at the man seated across from him.
The man appeared to be in his early thirties. He wore a black, traditional-style jacket, its lines
