Chapter 40: Through the Eyes of the Enemy

The moon hung high in the ink-black sky, its pale glow illuminating the sprawling estate where Marcus stood, waiting in the grand hall. The flickering light of the chandelier above cast ominous shadows across the cold marble floors. Marcus had been summoned, and if there was one thing he feared more than failure, it was facing Ashcroft when he was angry.

The heavy oak doors at the end of the hall creaked open, and Ashcroft entered. His movements were as fluid as a predator's, his piercing gray eyes scanning Marcus with disdain. He exuded an aura of dominance, every step echoing with authority.

"Explain," Ashcroft commanded, his voice as cold as the blade of a knife.

Marcus swallowed hard. He had rehearsed this moment in his mind a hundred times, but under Ashcroft's piercing gaze, every excuse felt inadequate.