Chapter 1 - The Ghost at the Gate
The cold marble terrace seemed to hum under Elena’s trembling knees. Around her, the sheer weight of the guard dogs pressed the evening air into a heavy, suffocating blanket. Men in tailored black tactical suits kept their fingers hovering millimeters above their holsters, their breath visible in the cooling twilight. But Elena could not look at them, nor could she focus on the towering facade of the estate where she had merely arrived as a private caterer. Her fingers were buried deep in the thick folds of dark fur around Titan’s throat.
The scar slicing through the mastiff’s left brow was jagged, pale, and unmistakably familiar. It was a brand carved by a shattered windshield twelve years ago, on a night her childhood home was reduced to ash and blood.
The man descended the grand stairs. Every step he took down the limestone echoed like a steady drumbeat. His three-piece charcoal suit cut a razor-sharp silhouette against the golden dusk, his dark eyes fixated entirely on her hands resting so casually on a creature trained to tear intruders apart.
“You did not answer my question,” Julian Vance said, his voice smooth, low, and devoid of fear. He stopped five paces away, looking down at her. “How do you know my dog’s name?”
Elena swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Her knuckles turned white against the heavy leather collar, feeling the cold weight of the golden letter M resting between her fingers. “This isn’t your dog,” she whispered, standing up slowly. Titan didn’t bare his teeth; he leaned his massive head against her hip with an ancient familiarity. “This dog belonged to my father, Marcus Vance. Twelve years ago, the police found my father’s car in the river. They told me Titan died trapped inside it.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed into slits of cold steel. He tilted his head, assessing the bone structure of her face, the defiant tilt of her chin, and the brown eyes that held no terror of him. “Marcus Vance had no surviving daughter,” Julian murmured quietly.
May you like
Elena raised her chin, meeting his stare without flinching. “My name is Elena. And Marcus Vance was my father.”
Julian lifted his right hand. Instantly, the four security guards unholstered their weapons, the sharp metallic click of four chambered rounds echoing off the stone walls. Julian took one slow step forward, looking down at her, and Elena heard the low growl—not from Titan, but from the darkness behind the heavy front doors.
