THE LAST DANCE BENEATH THE LANTERN LIGHTS

Julian Vance stepped over the shattered limestone, his immaculate Italian leather shoes picking carefully through the debris. He carried no weapon; his power was reflected in the six heavily armed mercenaries forming a defensive arc around him.

""You always were too stubborn to die when you were supposed to, little brother,"" Julian sighed, tucking his phone into his pocket.

Liam pushed himself up against the pickup truck, his ears still ringing violently, blood trickling into his left eye. In the truck behind him, Marcus held his fire, keeping his rifle trained directly on Julian's forehead, awaiting Liam’s signal.

""Julian..."" Liam breathed, his throat burning from the smoke. ""Sarah was family. Clara is your niece.""

""Sarah was an amateur playing with industrial explosives,"" Julian sneered coldly. ""She found documents that would have dissolved a multi-billion-dollar maritime acquisition. I told her to drop it. I offered her two million dollars to shred those memory cards. She laughed in my face.""

""So you put her off the road,"" Liam said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy whisper.

""I protected our legacy,"" Julian countered, adjusting his silk tie. ""And now you've brought the evidence out into the daylight. Hand over the binder, Liam. Hand over the girl. I'll make sure Clara goes to a respectable boarding school abroad under a new name. You and Marcus can disappear.""

Inside the truck, Clara pressed her small face against the tinted glass, her hazel eyes wide with terror as she looked at her uncle.

""She’s just a baby, Julian,"" Liam said softly, slowly sliding his hand toward the spare magazine tucked into his belt.