The Ashbrook mansion looked the same as it always had, too perfect, too bright, too untouchable.
Even with police vehicles lining the driveway, even with officers moving through the gates and up the steps, the building kept its arrogance. Marble that had never known hardship. Glass that reflected the world without letting it in. A house built to look like nothing could stain it.
Ryan stood at the front of the line, jaw clenched, body rigid with the kind of restraint that felt like it might crack. Tevin hovered to his left, expression sharp, scanning the windows. Maxwell stood to Ryan’s right, silent and solid, a presence that dared anyone to mistake this for a bluff.
Chief Claude stepped forward and knocked.
The sound echoed.
A beat passed.
Then another.
The door opened.
Jonathan A
