The night sky was pitch black. Thick clouds hung low, concealing the moon and casting the grand Joy estate in a blanket of darkness. A fierce wind howled through the trees, their branches thrashing wildly as if they sensed something monumental was about to unfold.

In the western corner of the property, behind the ruins of the old horse stables, Hunter crouched low against a stone wall. His eyes flicked to his digital watch—3:00 a.m. sharp.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Joe moved swiftly but silently down the second-floor hallway. He was dressed entirely in black, a baseball cap shadowing his face. The guards were all resting, and only one security...