The morning light filtered through the grand windows of Moris' estate, but the tension in the air was anything but warm.
Isabel sat on the couch, Duke curled protectively at her feet, while Moris paced the room. His jaw was tight, his hands curled into fists.
"You're sure someone tried to attack you?" he asked, his voice controlled but furious.
Isabel nodded. "Duke chased him off, but if he hadn't been there…" She shivered, the memory of those unseen eyes in the dark sending a chill down her spine.
Moris stopped pacing. His blue eyes locked onto hers. "This was Sarah."
"We don't have proof," Isabel murmured, but even she didn't believe her own words.
Moris ran a hand through his hair. He had suspected Sarah was dangerous, but this was something else. Hiring someone to harm Isabel? It was a new level of insanity.
A knock on the door interrupted them.
Pierre, the head chef, stepped inside, his usually calm expression replaced with unease. "Sir, there's something you should see."
Moris and Isabel exchanged glances before following Pierre down the hallway.
When they reached the entrance, a man lay on the steps—bruised, unconscious, and barely breathing.
Isabel gasped. "That's him! That's the guy who tried to attack me!"
Moris' eyes darkened as he crouched beside the man. His face was familiar. Then it hit him.
Vincent Crowe.
He was a known enforcer in the city—someone who handled "discreet" jobs for the rich and ruthless.
Moris turned to Pierre. "Who found him?"
Pierre hesitated. "No one knows. He was just… there."
Moris' gut twisted. Someone had taken Vincent down and left him as a message. But who?
Before he could say another word, Vincent groaned. His swollen eyes cracked open, and his gaze flickered between Moris and Isabel.
"She… she hired me…" he rasped.
Moris' jaw clenched. "Sarah."
Vincent gave a weak nod. "But—she's not the only one you should be worried about."
Silence fell over them.
Then Vincent coughed, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's someone else… someone who doesn't want her in control either."
Isabel's heart pounded. "Who?"
Vincent struggled to sit up, but before he could answer, the sound of screeching tires outside caught everyone's attention.
A black car sped toward the entrance.
Moris grabbed Isabel and pulled her back just as a masked figure stepped out of the car, raised a gun—
And fired.
The Unseen Enemy
The gunshot rang through the estate as Pierre tackled Isabel to the ground, shielding her. Moris dove behind a pillar, his mind racing.
The shooter wasn't after Vincent.
They were after all of them.
Duke snarled and leaped forward just as the gunman fired another shot. The bullet missed Moris by inches, slamming into a marble column instead.
Then, just as quickly as they had arrived, the masked figure turned and jumped back into the car. The tires screeched again as the vehicle sped off.
Pierre was the first to move, checking Isabel for injuries. "Are you okay?"
She nodded shakily, but her heart was pounding. "Who was that?"
Moris stood, his face set in stone.
"Someone who wants to finish what Sarah started."
Vincent groaned from the steps, clutching his ribs. "I told you… there's someone else."
Moris knelt beside him, his patience gone. "Who? Tell me."
Vincent swallowed hard, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Sarah's… being watched. She thought she was playing the game. But she's just another piece on the board."
Moris' expression hardened. "Then who's pulling the strings?"
Vincent's breath hitched. He opened his mouth—
And then his body went still.
Isabel gasped. "No—"
Moris checked his pulse.
Nothing.
Vincent Crowe was dead.