The shot cracked across the entire Mansion like thunder. But Montez didn’t move. Not even flinching an inch. One of his men shifted at the last second, a metallic ping ringing out as the bullet ricocheted off concealed body armor.

“Wrong move,” Montez drawled, his voice carrying a bone-chilling calm over the chaos. He adjusted his cufflinks like they were discussing dinner reservations instead of death. “You just signed your own death warrant, old man.”

...