A sliver of light cut through the darkness.

I peered through the crack.

The kitchen was empty.

The copper pots hung silently from the ceiling rack.

I pushed the door open and stepped onto the marble floor.

The house was too quiet.

I moved down the hallway toward the study.

The Persian rugs muffled my footsteps.

I stopped outside the study door.

It was slightly ajar.

A soft glow of yellow light spilled onto the hardwood floor.

I could hear the faint sound of paper rustling.

And then, the sound of a glass being set down on wood.

I pushed the door open.

Caleb was sitting in my leather armchair behind my desk.

He looked up, a glass of my scotch in his hand.

He didn’t look surprised.

“You always were a man of action, Adrian,” Caleb said.

“I expected you to send Daniel.”

“Where is Marcus?” I asked.

Caleb took a sip of his drink.

“He is safe, for now,” he said.

“But his patience is wearing thin, and so is mine.”

He pointed to a stack of legal documents on the desk.