In fact, it was the thing that would sink them, and I knew it, standing there, even as the man’s shadow fell across the table.

Chapter 8 — The Quitclaim Deed

My gaze locked onto the document dominating the center of the mahogany table, a piece of heavy, embossed parchment, and an agonizing, tomb-like stillness descended over the room.

Behind me, I heard my sister exhale, a long, ragged breath of pure euphoria, her arrogance flooding back into her the instant the mountain of a man sealed off the only way out.

“You must be the sister,” the man rumbled, his voice like gravel crushed underfoot.