Then I turned and walked out without looking back.

Chapter 5 — The Convoy at the Gate

Rain hammered the estate. I walked barefoot across the concrete courtyard with Phoebe clinging to my neck. The security guards stood along the driveway and didn’t dare move, while Russell shouted from the main door.

“Don’t give her an umbrella. Don’t let her near a car,” he yelled. “Let’s see how long her pride lasts in the rain.”

I reached the front gates on foot, and at that moment a convoy of dark armored SUVs pulled up along the curb. A door opened, and a wide golf umbrella went up over Phoebe and me before a single drop could reach us.

Grant Walton stepped out of the lead vehicle. My older brother — a man whose corporate moves had brought entire banking networks to heel — took off his wool coat and wrapped it around my cold shoulders.

When his eyes found the dried blood on Phoebe’s clothes, his face hardened.