(Author’s POV)
The grand Skylar mansion was quieter than usual, dusk settling like velvet over the estate. In the study, Owen stood by the tall window, his jaw tight, phone clutched in his hand. Seconds later, the heavy oak door opened.
Ryan walked in first, still in his suit, eyes sharp. Asher followed, sunglasses pushed into his hair, expression tense. Ian came in last, chest rising with worry, still fresh from practice.
They all stopped when they saw Owen’s expression, icy calm with a storm underneath.
“What happened?” Ryan asked, voice low. Owen turned, throwing a manila folder on the table. It slid to the center, photos spilling out surveillance stills, grainy shots of the man they’d captured.
Then he said the name.
“Marcus Vale” The room stilled.
“What?” Asher blinked, steppin
