Jake stood over the threshold of the mansion, looking up at Mr. Alistair Grant. He was powerful, confident with an immaculate tailoring of his suit—looks would kill, Jake noted with cold intensity behind those piercing sharp eyes. Jake felt about as experienced as a nine-year-old stepping into a game he hadn’t even been told the rules of.“Mr. Milton,” Grant said, offering a hand. He was unyielding, demanding respect yet providing none in return. “I hope you’re prepared to prove yourself?Jake looked at Klaus, and Klaus nodded once. Jake swallowed his nerves and sat up straight. “I’m ready.”Grant’s lips curled into a semblance of a smile. “Good. Follow me.”The three men waited in the mansion’s private conference room, whose grandeur was meant to intimidate. A long mahogany table filled the space, ringed by high-backed leather chairs. Grant waved Jake to a seat while Klaus watched silently from the side.“Let’s cut to the chase,” Grant said, setting down a briefcase, which he unlocke