Emma peeked out from behind my shoulder, her eyes red and puffy, but she stopped crying when she saw his face.

“Is the loud noise gone?” she asked in a small, shaky voice.

“Yes,” Julian said, offering her a faint, rare smile. “The loud noise is gone for good.”

He stood up and turned to Marcus.

“Take them to the main house,” Julian ordered. “Use the service tunnel from the garage. I want them inside and warm.”

“Yes, sir,” Marcus said.

Julian looked back at me, his dark eyes holding mine for a long moment.

“I have some business to finish with the agents,” he said. “I will be up shortly.”

I nodded, standing up with Emma in my arms.

My legs felt like lead, but the relief of the tension leaving my body was almost overwhelming.

As we walked out to the waiting car, I saw Richard Whitmore sitting in the back of a black government sedan.

His expensive hair was disheveled, and his face looked incredibly old and defeated under the glare of the flashing lights.

He didn’t look up as we passed.