THE MAN WHO WATCHED THE HOUSE THROUGH LENS THAT NEVER SLEPT AND LIES THAT NEVER DIED

The rain began to fall in a cold, relentless drizzle, plastering Julian’s dark hair to his forehead and soaking the fabric of his ruined suit as he scrambled across the slick slate roof tiles. The nylon rope attached to the chimney hummed with tension as the intruder holding Maya lowered her steadily toward the manicured lawn three stories below. The second operative stood near the edge of the roof, his boots braced against the copper gutter, waiting to rappel down after his partner.

Julian didn't call out. He lunged forward with explosive speed, tackling the second operative squarely around the waist just as the man was about to step over the gutter’s edge. Both men slammed hard onto the wet roof tiles, sliding six feet before colliding violently with a brick dormer window.

The operative grunted, his breath exploding from his lungs in a ragged gasp, but he recovered with terrifying speed, driving a heavy combat boot into Julian’s ribs. Julian absorbed the blow with a sharp hiss, his fingers locking onto the collar of the man’s jacket. With a sharp, practiced twist born of old corporate security training, Julian flipped his opponent over, pinning him against the sloping slate with his forearm pressed hard against the man's throat.

"Who sent you?" Julian demanded over the roar of the wind and rain, his voice a lethal growl. "Who is financing this operation?"

The operative didn't answer with words. Instead, he let out a harsh, mocking laugh, his teeth flashing white in the lightning-flashed sky. He reached into his tactical vest, pulled out a small, waterproof flash drive, and tossed it into the open gutter just as a torrent of rainwater swept it down the internal downspout toward the storm drains below.

"You’re too late, Vance," the operative choked out beneath Julian’s forearm. "The data packet was mirrored to three different servers the second you broke my door down. Your company, your home, your family—it’s all liquidation collateral now."

Julian didn't waste time trying to retrieve the drive. He hauled the operative up by his collar, dragged him across the roof, and dumped him over the edge onto the sturdy branches of a sprawling oak tree that overhung the driveway, watching as the man scrambled down into the darkness and vanished into the night.

Julian turned slowly around on the rain-slicked roof, his chest heaving as he stared down at the lawn below. Maya was already safe in the arms of a tall, imposing figure standing beneath the amber porch light—a figure who wasn't a police officer, but Marcus Vance, Julian’s estranged older brother, who hadn't spoken to Julian in over a decade.

Marcus looked up through the pouring rain, holding a weeping Maya in one arm while pointing a heavy leather briefcase up at Julian with the other.