Javier stood alone on the sidewalk, the echo of screeching tires still ringing in his ears. The air smelled faintly of ozone and burnt fabric where the stun baton had kissed his coat. He flexed his fingers, recovering sensation, but his eyes were no longer on his own pain. They were fixed on the road, the last place he had seen the SUV that had taken Valeria.Around him, the city resumed its rhythm as if nothing had happened. Passersby barely noticed. No screams, no panic—just another quiet abduction executed with terrifying precision.He straightened his coat. There was no need to shout. No need to run. That wasn’t his way.Javier Everhart moved back to the car where the driver, still shaken, had exited the vehicle. The envelope was gone. Taken with Valeria."Call Lukas," Javier said calmly.The driver nodded quickly, pulling out a secured phone. Within seconds, the call connected."Mr. Everhart?""Trace the SUV. All cameras in a five-block radius. Pull any satellite imaging you can

The general manager, Ms. Arlen, narrowed her eyes slightly.“Javier,” she repeated, turning toward the maître d’. “You said there was no such name on the list?”The maître d’, suddenly less sure of himself, glanced at the guestbook. “I... I didn’t see it. He didn’t give a last name.”“I didn’t need to,” Javier replied coolly. “The table was reserved by someone else. Under mine.”Ms. Arlen tilted her head, thoughtful. Then she turned to the hostess behind the podium. “Check the private reservation list. Cross-reference with the event suite.”The hostess hesitated. “Um, I think there’s a booking under—uh—Everhart. But it didn’t say Mr. Javier specifically—”The name dropped like a thunderclap in the room.The maître d’ turned pale. The busboy froze mid-step.Ms. Arlen’s lips parted just slightly, a crack in her otherwise flawless demeanor.“You mean... Javier Everhart?” she asked carefully.Javier gave a faint nod. “Yes.”For the first time, the restaurant fell silent.Someone dropped a

Clayton Delacroix’s cane clicked against the marble with deliberate rhythm, each step a declaration of his return.The man hadn't changed much—tall, sharp-featured, dressed in a steel-gray coat that matched the winter outside. His silver hair, slicked back like a villain out of time, caught the light as he moved through the stunned crowd.Only Javier remained still.Valeria, seated beside him, leaned slightly forward, voice like a blade cloaked in silk. “He’s not supposed to be in the country.”“He’s not,” Javier murmured.But there he was.Clayton stopped a few feet from their table and gave a theatrical bow, his cane sweeping out to the side. “Forgive the intrusion. I heard there was a dinner being hosted by the elusive Mr. Everhart. And I do so hate being left out of exclusive gatherings.”The agents stiffened.Rennick rose from his chair immediately. “Clayton Delacroix, you’re wanted for international financial fraud and evading asset seizure across four jurisdictions. You’ll surr

The plane descended into Geneva under a slate-colored sky, heavy with the threat of snow. Javier sat near the window, watching the clouds blur into mountains below. Valeria sat across from him, arms folded, gaze fixed on the dossier in her lap. Neither had spoken much since boarding.The silence between them was not cold—it was sharpened. Focused. Both of them knew that what lay ahead would not be resolved with calm meetings or quiet revelations. If Clayton Delacroix was involved, then anything—anyone—tied to the past was a loaded weapon.The moment they touched down, two black sedans were waiting.Javier stepped out first, his coat catching the wind as the door opened. A man in a dark turtleneck and wool jacket stood beside the vehicles—Bernard, one of Everhart Holdings’ European intel

“Blow the door.”Javier didn’t hesitate.He grabbed the glowing box from the vault shelf and turned to Valeria. “Get back!”She pulled Vane with her behind the reinforced side wall just as a muffled beep—then boom—shook the entire hallway. Dust burst into the air. Shrapnel from the outer security lock clanged across the floor. The heavy steel door cracked at the hinges.Javier shielded the case with his body, back bracing against the impact.Smoke swirled, and through the rising fog, shadows began to appear.Three men. Fully armed. Faces masked.“Give us the box,” one of them barked. “Now.”Javier stood slowly, his coat covered in dust. Calm. Silent.One of the men stepped forward. “I said—”Javier tossed a coin-sized device to the ground.A pulse exploded outward.The men staggered—ears ringing, guns twitching.In that moment of hesitation, Javier moved like lightning.He dropped to one knee, swept the nearest man’s legs out from under him, and elbowed the second square in the throat