“Please buy my oranges, I need medicine for Mama,” a girl begged at my gate. But when she saw a photo in my hall, she gasped, “That’s my mom!” I rushed to her shack and found my long-lost love. She trembled: “You shouldn’t have come, Grant. Now we’re all in danger.” Just then, a black car pulled up behind us, and my daughter screamed…
Chapter 1: The Obsidian Fortress The oppressive mid-July heat smothered Los Angeles, pressing down on the sprawling metropolis like a suffocating quilt. Beyond the impenetrable ivy-choked walls and wrought-iron perimeters of my estate in Brentwood, the asphalt baked, radiating visible waves of distortion. Within the cavernous walls of my private study, however, the climate was…
