The grand ballroom of the Astor Estate was not merely a venue; it was a fortress of unimaginable wealth, an architectural masterpiece designed to intimidate and mesmerize in equal measure

Marcus stood in the doorway, a suppressed pistol aimed directly at Isabel’s chest. His scarred face twisted into a cruel smile.

"Mr. Vance figured you two might team up," Marcus said, stepping into the room and locking the door behind him. "The bride and the ghost. How poetic. Slide the ledger across the desk."

Isabel clutched the book to her chest, her mind racing. "If you kill us, Marcus, the dead-man switch activates. The police are already on their way."

"The police are busy dealing with a bomb threat I just called in across town," Marcus chuckled. "I have thirty minutes to dispose of you both. Now, slide the book."

Genevieve slowly moved to the desk. "Marcus, wait. You know Julian. He’s going down for this. If you kill us, you go down for murder. I can pay you double whatever he’s paying you."

Marcus laughed, his eyes darting to Genevieve for a fraction of a second.

It was all the distraction she needed.

Genevieve grabbed a heavy crystal decanter of scotch from the desk and hurled it directly at Marcus's head. The heavy glass shattered against his skull. The gun fired wildly into the ceiling as Marcus stumbled backward, roaring in pain.

Isabel didn't hesitate. She grabbed the heavy brass fire poker from the hearth and swung it like a baseball bat, striking Marcus in the knee. The giant collapsed with a sickening crunch.