Four little boys in matching navy uniforms walked into a restaurant bathroom hours before my million-dollar engagement. Five minutes later, I stared into four identical versions of my own face.

Silas and his "ghost squad" arrived exactly twenty-nine minutes later. They were a terrifyingly quiet group of professionals, dressed in unmarked tactical gear. Silas himself was a towering man with silver hair and eyes that had seen too much death to care about it anymore.

Under his direction, we moved Mara and the boys out of the estate through an old smuggler's tunnel my father-in-law had built years ago, bypassing my own compromised security team entirely. They were relocated to a black-site bunker in the city that didn't exist on any official grid.

Once I knew they were safe, I went hunting.

I needed information, and the only person who could give it to me was a mid-level money launderer named Grigori, who used to operate out of Victor’s inner circle. If Victor was alive, Grigori was managing his local assets.

The rain was pouring in sheets as I parked my unmarked sedan a block away from a dingy nightclub in the industrial district. I pulled the collar of my trench coat up, checking the loaded Glock 19 tucked into my waistband.

I slipped into the alleyway behind the club, avoiding the bouncers at the front. The stench of garbage and stale beer filled the air. I waited in the shadows near the steel service door.

Ten minutes later, the door swung open. Grigori stepped out, holding a lit cigarette, laughing with a blonde woman on his arm.

I stepped out of the shadows, raising the gun perfectly level with his chest. "Tell the girl to go back inside, Grigori."

Grigori froze, his cigarette dropping from his lips into the puddles. He recognized me instantly, his eyes widening in sheer terror. He shoved the girl back inside and slammed the door shut.

"Julian," Grigori stammered, raising his hands. "We—we thought you were dead."

"I am a ghost," I said, stepping closer until the barrel of the gun pressed against his sternum. "Where is Victor?"

"I don't know!" he panicked. "I swear on my mother's life! He just appeared a week ago! He took over the local operations by force. He's furious, Julian. He's looking for the Ledger."

"Where is he operating from?" I pressed the gun harder.

Before he could answer, the sharp hum of a suppressed gunshot sliced through the rain. Grigori's eyes went wide, a red flower blooming in the center of his forehead. He collapsed onto the wet pavement.