A MADMAN'S OBSESSION
Regan could only shake his head slowly while a faint, wry smile touched his lips as he rounded the car to the driver's seat.
No wonder Alexzandrei Constantine was known as a madman. It was a title worn not with shame, but with a certain perverse pride. Regan had seen it for years. He had seen the effortless charm that could disarm a roomful of sharks, the disarming gentle look in his eyes that made people trust him implicitly.
It was a masterpiece of a facade, a beautiful, polished veneer that hid the rot beneath.