Alistair staggers out of the wrecked car, screaming that he will destroy Clara’s mother before the court reconvenes tomorrow.

His ugly voice rasped through the dark foggy street like a broken machine, but his crazy threats died instantly in the cold morning wind. He did not even know that thirty heavily armed private guards were standing watch around every single corner of the Kensington estate. His foolish scream was nothing more than the desperate cry of a beaten dog who realized his dark games were completely finished.

Inside the quiet, warm study of the grand Kensington estate, the golden morning light began to pour softly through the tall glass windows....