“Madam, sir, a gunman has infiltrated our sanctum, demanding an audience with Miss Smith.”

“What? How could an armed intruder breach our defenses?” A pallor gripped Jimena’s countenance.

“His appellation is Harlan. Presently, he occupies the hall, yet Miss Smith is…”

Holden’s pulse surged, his blood pressure threatening to overthrow equilibrium as he nearly succumbed to unconsciousness.

A few years earlier, Harlan had forsaken the mantle of the family’s legacy, departing for Raven Island, where he adopted a lethal vocation as an assassin. Corpses marked his path, and those marked by his gaze inevitably met skeletal fate.

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

Though the Smith family’s fortifications were formidable, Harlan’s infiltration hinted at his ominous prowess.

“My dear! My dear!”

with a tenacious effort to rise, summoning his inner strength to buoy his

in

intent annihilation for

ensconced upon a classical sofa in the hall, one leg casually crossed over the

emerald green teacup, one might have mistaken him for a casual

Curtis. I apologize

his smile painted

shan’t fritter it away needlessly. Mr. Smith, kindly usher Mavis into

with a detached

Holden’s worst imaginings. A reflexive hand rose to banish the beads

attempted to interject, but

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