Alexander Kane

The mansion’s hallway stretched like a tunnel, shadows twisting under the flicker of emergency lights. My gun felt heavy in my hand, Elena’s fingers digging into my arm as we moved, her breath ragged but steady. The crash downstairs, metal on marble, still echoed, a warning that we weren’t alone. That black box with its pulsing red glow sat on the guest room floor behind us, the note’s words searing my mind: Truth hurts, Elena. Ask Sofia about Javier. Someone was in my ...