The second floor was quiet. We moved down the hallway, clearing two guest bedrooms before reaching the heavy double doors at the end of the hall—the master suite.
Drakon placed his gloved hand on the brass handle, looking down at me. "Your turn," he rumbled softly.
I smirked, kicked the door open with a solid strike right beside the lock, and raised my weapon as we flooded the room.
Isaac was standing near the far floor-to-ceiling balcony windows, frantically shoving stacks of bearer bonds and passport documents into a leather duffel bag. A heavy chrome revolver sat on the desk beside him. At the sound of the door splintering, he whipped around, his eyes going wide with pure, unadulterated terror as his gaze landed on Drakon—and then locked onto me.
"You..." Isaac choked out, his face
