The day was winding down, the light outside the office window softening to a weary gray, when a man Julian had never seen before walked in.
He didn't look like a client or a courier. He moved with an unnerving stillness, his expensive suit fitting him like a second skin, and his eyes scanned the room not with curiosity, but with assessment. They found Julian almost immediately.
"Julian Marlowe?" the man asked. His voice was smooth, cultured, with an accent Julian couldn't quite place.
Julian's instincts, which had become a finely-tuned alarm system lately, went from a low hum to a full-blown shriek. "That's me."
The man approached the desk, offering a hand that Julian didn't take. "My name is Niklaus. I represent a mutual acquaintance of ours. An acquaintance who is... concerned about your recent associations."
Julian leaned back in his chair, feigning a casualness he didn't feel. "I have a lot of acquaintances. You'll have to be more specific."
