The black, heavily armored SUV glided through the wrought-iron gates of Vance Manor, its tires crunching softly against the wet gravel driveway.

Aneesha pressed her face against the tinted glass window, her dark eyes wide with awe and a sudden, creeping anxiety. The estate didn't look like a modern mansion; it was an ancient, sprawling Scottish castle built of dark grey stone, perched dramatically on the edge of a misty cliff overlooking the wild North Sea. Towering turrets poked through the low-hanging fog, and ivy clung to the thick, fortress-like walls.