“Get out of here, Julian,” Arthur said. “This is private property.”

“It was,” Julian said, looking around the small, simple kitchen. “But I think the lease is about to expire.”

Julian’s eyes drifted to me, his smile softening into something polite and entirely empty.

“Clara,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “You look well. The country suits you.”

“Thank you, Julian,” I said.

“I heard you left our friend here,” Julian said, gesturing to Arthur with a gloved hand. “I must admit, I was surprised. He usually doesn’t let his best assets walk away.”

“He didn’t have a choice,” I said.

“Clearly,” Julian said.

He took a step forward, his leather shoes clicking on the floor.

Arthur’s finger tightened on the trigger of his pistol.

“Don’t move, Julian,” Arthur growled. “I’ll put a bullet in you before your men can cross the threshold.”

“You could,” Julian said, his voice remaining smooth. “But then my men would turn this lovely cabin into Swiss cheese. And I don’t think Clara would appreciate the mess.”

Julian looked back at me, ignoring the gun pointed at his ribs.