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Chapter 1
Garrett
I standby the floor-to-ceiling windows of George's mansion, eyes sweeping over the manicured gardens and the invisible security perimeter beyond.
Old habits die hard. Inside, the crowd mingles, oblivious to the potential threats lurking outside.
Senator Whitman approaches, his smile strained. “Mr. Hayes, a word?”
I nod, noting the tension in his shoulders. “Of course, Senator.”
He leans in, bourbon on his breath. “About that sensitive problem. You know how rumors fly in this city.”
“Apex Solutions has it handled,” I assure him, my voice low. “Your indiscretion stays buried.”
Relief floods his face. He nods and melts back into the party.
George's mansion is all marble, gold, and priceless art. Guests gather in small groups, their laughter and conversation a low hum beneath the soft strains of the string quartet.
I weave through the crowd catching snippets of conversation—stock prices, yacht purchases, the latest scandal in high society.
This place screams 'untouchable'. A safe place where deals are made with handshakes, not bullets. But I know better. No one is untouchable—not even George Bennett, Apex Solutions co-founder and city powerbroker.
My gaze sweeps over the crowd, every movement calculated under the weight of the Scarpettas' recent “visit” to our offices.
Apex Solutions has a strict code—we don’t work for criminals, and the Scarpettas’ request for protection was no exception. They didn't take our refusal well. Their veiled threats still echo in my mind, sharpening my focus on every face, every gesture in the room.
Nothing seems out of place, but that almost makes it worse. The most dangerous threat is the one you can’t see coming.
George's booming voice cuts through my reverie as he approaches, a too-wide smile plastered on his face. “Garrett! There you are, you old workhorse.”
I turn to my longtime friend and business partner, fighting to keep the worry from my voice. “George, we need to talk.”
George chuckles, a sound that only further irritates the knot of tension in my gut. “Come on, loosen up. It's a party!”
Celebrating. That's what this is supposed to be. A grand homecoming for George's daughter, returning from her studies abroad. Skylar Bennett.
I press on, undeterred. “This is serious, George. They could be a real threat to?—”
“Not tonight.” George cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “Apex Solutions has the manpower, tactical equipment and powerful connections to rival any organized crime syndicate.”
George greets someone passing, but almost as an afterthought, he leans back and asks, “How's the Riverside building? Did you finalize the arrangements for my daughter’s exhibition?”
I switch gears, recognizing George's priorities. “It's taken care of. Discreet security is in place. Your daughter will be safe.”
“Perfect!” George's eyes light up with pride. “She's been struggling to find a venue. Told her I had a surprise planned. You think she'll like it?”
“She'll appreciate it,” I offer, though my mind is still spinning between the Scarpettas and Skylar.
“Good, good. We’ll get back to the commercial stuff after her show—I’m sure you’re wondering when construction could start. But just for now, this is for her.”
Thinking her name sends a jolt through me. It's been four years since I last saw Skylar, but she's been on my mind more than I'd like to admit.
My jaw clenches. “The Scarpettas are?—”
He claps my shoulder, already distracted by another partygoer. “Don’t worry so much. Trust me, old friend. We've faced worse in Kandahar, remember?”
A hush falls over the room, cutting me off. I follow George's gaze to the top of the grand staircase and feel the air leave my lungs.
