The knock came at midnight. Sharp and deliberate. Echoing through the stillness of James Bennett’s pristine penthouse.
Ethan Graves had made sure he was as quiet and careful as possible because when it came to Damien — there were no slip-ups.
He had gently placed the envelope by the foot of the door and slipped away before anyone could see.
James sat up in his chair in the study, where he’d been sipping aged scotch and rereading investor reports.
He scowled when he heard the door. It was a little over midnight and no one dared knock on his door this late.
He opened the front door cautiously, expecting a messenger or security alert. But there was no one.
James shook his head as if disappointed. “Nonsense,” he muttered as he turned around to return inside.
With one more glance around the area, his eyes drifted to the floor and that's when he saw it, an envelope, elegant and understated, resting at the foot of the door.
His brows furrowed as he bent slowly, retrieved it, and turned it o
