The penthouse looked less like a home than a beautiful alibi. Ava learned which cameras Charles controlled, which staff reported to Julian, and where to stand when photographers demanded proof that their engagement was real. Julian played the attentive fiancé flawlessly until the elevators closed. Then distance returned to his face.
At two in the morning, Ava heard a woman crying in the east wing. The voice used her name. She followed it past the locked door and found a room filled with files from Cross Foundation hospitals—including Noah's.
Julian caught her holding a consent form bearing a forged signature. Instead of throwing her out, he locked the door behind him. “My uncle has been testing an unapproved drug on patients who cannot afford to complain,” he said. “Your brother is on tomorrow's list.”
Before Ava could speak, the penthouse lights went dark. Charles's voice came through the security system. “You should have chosen a less curious fiancée, Julian.”