“You really thought your brother would just let this go?” the man said.

“He won’t stop,” the woman replied. “He knows what you did.”

“He knows nothing,” the man said. “He is a relic of a dying empire. I operate in the light, Isabella. Your brother lives in the dirt.”

I recognized the voice.

It was Dr. Everett Kane.

I took a deep breath, placed my boot against the center of the double doors, and kicked them open.

The wood splintered with a loud crack.

The room was a luxury master suite, filled with plush furniture and large windows overlooking the frozen harbor.

Isabella was sitting in a chair in the center of the room, her hands tied behind her back, her face bruised but her eyes sharp.

Standing next to her was Dr. Everett Kane, dressed in a tailored wool coat, holding a small silver pistol.

He didn’t look surprised to see me.

He simply smiled, the light from the harbor reflecting off his wire-rimmed glasses.

“Dante,” Kane said, his voice flat. “I was wondering when you would finally show up.”