CHAPTER 1: The Man on the Marble Floor

CHAPTER 1: The Man on the Marble Floor

The front doors of Vistion Hall were open when Lena arrived.

That alone was wrong.

Her father had built the house like a bank vault, with brass locks, silent cameras, and a staff that knew never to leave the entrance exposed after dark.

But tonight the doors stood wide beneath the chandelier, letting cold air move across the cream marble floor.

Then Lena saw him.

Charles Vistion was on his hands and knees below the balcony, one palm flat against the marble, his silver hair falling over his forehead. He was not bleeding. He was not unconscious. That almost made it worse.

He was awake enough to be humiliated.

Above him, Celeste Vistion stood with a champagne glass in her hand, dressed in satin the color of money that had never been earned.

Beside the door, Mason watched in a black suit, too young to look so comfortable around cruelty.

Lena stopped beneath the archway, a folder clutched against her chest.

Celeste smiled as if she had invited her for dessert.

“You’re late,” she said.

Lena looked only at her father.

“Dad,” she whispered.