The grand ballroom of the Sterling Estate was a masterclass in calculated opulence. Every surface gleamed with an artificial, yet entirely captivating, brilliance.

The tarmac at Teterboro Airport was slick with rain. A sleek Gulfstream jet sat idling on the runway, its engines whining in the dark.

Julian’s stolen SUV crashed through the perimeter fence, screeching to a halt near the plane. Julian and his three mercenaries jumped out, their weapons drawn, scanning the shadows.

"Clear!" one of the mercenaries shouted.

Julian ran up the stairs of the jet. The cabin was empty. Sitting on one of the plush leather seats was a silver briefcase. Julian snapped it open. Stacks of hundred-dollar bills stared back at him.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He had survived.

"Get in! Tell the pilot to take off!" Julian yelled to his men outside.

But there was no answer.

Julian frowned. He walked back to the door of the jet and looked down at the tarmac.

His three mercenaries were lying motionless on the wet asphalt. Standing over them were dozens of men in dark tactical gear, heavily armed, their laser sights painting red dots all over Julian’s chest.

At the center of the tactical squad stood Vivienne Vanguard.

She was dressed in a long, black cashmere coat, holding a black umbrella to shield herself from the rain. She looked like a grim reaper.

"You lied," Julian whispered, terror finally gripping his heart.

"I never lie, Julian. I said there was a plane and money. I never said you were the one who was going to fly it," Vivienne said, her voice amplified by the quiet of the runway.

"You can't just kill me here! The police—"

"The police are currently looking the other way, thanks to a very generous donation to the police union pension fund," Vivienne interrupted. "You brought violence into my home, Julian. You tried to dismantle my legacy. Did you really think you would get to retire on a beach?"

Julian raised his gun, pointing it at Vivienne. "If I go down, I'm taking you with me!"

"Shoot him," Vivienne commanded effortlessly.

The sound of twenty suppressed rifles firing simultaneously was like the tearing of heavy canvas. Julian’s body jerked violently as the bullets shredded him, throwing him backward into the cabin of the jet.