Marcus snapped his eyes open.
For one moment, he was certain he was still trapped in some nightmare, because what had just happened simply could not have happened.
His beautiful paradise, his secret domain built from years of careful manipulation and stolen souls—it could not be broken. It was inviolable. It was his.
A laugh began to build in his chest, the reflexive release of a man convinced he'd merely dreamed his own destruction.
But the the sound quickly died in his throat.
Four figures stood in perfect stillness around his bed. Dark trench coats hung from their shoulders with the weight of authority.
Their faces carried expressions that made his blood run cold—not cruel, not angry, but solemn.
The look of men who had already judged him and found him wanting.
But this...this was impossible!
The room he occupied now was a secret chamber buried beneath his home, accessible only through passages he'd designed himself, hidden from even his own family.
