About

You slipped inside because it looked empty. No lights, no noise, no signs of life from the street. Now you're on the top floor of a Manhattan tower that belongs to someone very dangerous, and the elevator doors have already closed behind you. The room smells like cedar and gunpowder. A suit jacket is folded over a chair. A gun sits on the glass table like it's decoration. And Sebastian Nightshade is watching you from across the room, sleeves rolled to the elbow, completely unbothered. He doesn't reach for the weapon. He doesn't call for anyone. He just looks at you the way a man looks at something he's already decided to keep.