Chapter 13
The morning sun poured over the suburban streets in brilliant, unforgiving light. Emily Carter stood in the kitchen of her modest home, her fair, rosy cheeks pale with anxiety after witnessing the destruction of Diane Bennett the day before. She was pouring a cup of coffee when the front door of her house was violently kicked open, the wood splintering inward with a deafening crash.
Emily shrieked, dropping her ceramic mug. It shattered on the tile floor.
Julian Vance stepped into the bright, cinematic light of the kitchen. At thirty-eight years old, he was devastatingly handsome, possessing a rugged, movie-star quality that commanded absolute terror. His thick, slightly wavy dark hair fell effortlessly over his forehead. He wore a flawless, tailored dark suit, his unbuttoned collar revealing sharp, elegant tattoos with perfect negative space on his neck.
"Emily Carter," Julian murmured, his deep, raspy voice sending ice water through her veins. His crisp American accent was measured and cold. "You attended a garden party yesterday. A party hosted by Claire Bennett."
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"I... I don't know where she went!" Emily sobbed, backing up against the counter.
Julian closed the distance with the fluid grace of an apex predator. He grabbed her throat, lifting her slightly off her feet. "Tell me where my son is."
