The quiet of the Montgomery Estate was deceptive. Outside, the night air was crisp, the garden bathed in soft moonlight, but inside the mansion, a storm churned beneath the stillness.
Dante entered his study with his usual commanding stride, shutting the heavy door behind him with a dull thud. The rich scent of aged leather, expensive scotch, and mahogany filled the room. A ding from his phone shattered the silence. He slid it from his pocket, jaw tightening the moment he saw the alert.
No words. No wasted movements. Just cold efficiency.
He plugged the phone into his laptop, the screen casting a sharp white glow on his sculpted features. His eyes narrowed as he clicked play. The CCTV footage loaded slowly, frame by frame, captured from the Laurent private cemetery.
His jaw tensed.
