Chapter 11 Echoes of Fate

Iris Beaumont

He tried to stand. His fingers clawed at the doorframe, leaving half-moon indentations in the wood. A vein throbbed at his temple as sweat beaded along his hairline, darkening the collar of his shirt. Clive Morrow, detective, skeptic, hunter—now prey—planted his feet wider as if the f...

Login and Continue Reading