Maria stepped down the plane stairs as the cool Paris air brushed gently against her face, carrying the faint scent of jet fuel and morning rain. Her heels clicked softly against the metal steps as she lifted her gaze, her eyes scanning the ground below.Three men stood waiting, tall, polished, and silent, each dressed in sleek black suits, their hands clasped neatly in front of them. Sunglasses hid their eyes, and earpieces glimmered discreetly under the morning light. Their presence alone spoke of power and precision.Maria smiled faintly, her gaze shifting from one man to the next, silently assessing them. They stood beside a glossy black Jeep that gleamed like liquid ink under the Parisian sun.She didn’t need Vincent to tell her who they were. She already knew.They were here for him, his private guards, sent ahead to ensure everything ran perfectly during his stay in France. And as his chosen lady for this trip, she would be going wherever he went.“You like?” Vincent asked, his

"Your room, Sir, ma'am," the receptionist bowed as she gestured her hand at the door by her side, her movements practiced and graceful from years of attending to elite guests.They stood in a grand corridor that was adorned with red carpet and grand walls. The plush fabric beneath their feet seemed to swallow sound, creating an intimate silence that wrapped around them like velvet. In between these walls were doors with label numbers at the top of them, each one gleaming in polished brass that caught the warm amber light from the crystal sconces mounted at perfect intervals.Vincent nodded, his expression carefully neutral even as satisfaction hummed through his veins. He had ordered the hotel from Velmoria even before they got on the plane, every detail meticulously planned. During the flight, while Maria had gazed out the window at the clouds, he had reviewed his arrangements three times over.He had seen the picture of the corridor in the photo he saw online. In the same manner, he

Mark carried it with both hands. The briefcase. Light in weight, yet heavy with consequence.His eyes darted between the case and his boss, sweat beading at his temples despite the air conditioning. He knew what was expected of him. Right here, right now, in Maria's presence, he had to crack it open. No excuses. No failures.He recognized the design immediately. The briefcase was engineered with reinforced steel beneath a deceptive outer shell of carbon fiber composite. Anyone foolish enough would assume they could simply smash through the plastic looking exterior to reach what lay inside. But Mark knew better. The inner core was impenetrable, designed to withstand sledgehammers, drills, even small explosives."They should have something in here that can do it," Maria snapped, her heels clicking against the concrete floor as she positioned herself beside Mark. Her hand moved to her jaw, fingers drumming an impatient rhythm. "Cut the motherfucking thing open. Now.""No, boss." Mark's

Maria shot her eyes to the other side of the room.Her gaze darted across the corners, searching for anything, something that could be stuffed into a mouth, something medium-sized, maybe a cloth or even a seal tape, anything that would silence him before it was too late.“Gotcha!” she muttered sharply under her breath, her voice trembling with a mix of panic and control as she hurried toward the window.The curtain. It was long, elegant, and heavy. Its smooth folds reflected faint traces of light from the chandelier above. It looked like something that could be torn apart and used as a gag. Desperation was beginning to cloud her thoughts, but logic kept guiding her next move.Mark squinted his eyes, trying to understand her intention. He didn’t quite catch what she was up to yet, but he knew his boss well enough to realize she never acted without reason. Whatever Maria was planning, it was going to be brutal but smart.He watched her quietly, patient and obedient, as she touched the t

“We need to buy more shares from Virellon if I ever want to be a majority shareholder and take over the company.” Maira paced around the hotel room, her heels clicking against the marble floor like the ticking of a restless clock.Two hours had passed since they arrived back in Velmoria, back in the same luxurious hotel they had secured before their mission to Paris. Yet the comfort of the room meant nothing to her now. Her mind was trapped in a whirlpool of calculations and ambition.Her hand pressed against her jaw, eyes blank with worry.“What can I do?” she muttered continuously, as if her murmurs could summon an answer from the air. The night outside was heavy, the sky swollen with clouds, but sleep was a distant dream. No matter how much her body ached, her mind refused rest.Her determination burned brighter than exhaustion. She would not close her eyes until the Virellon Group was entirely under her control.“Mark!” she called suddenly, her voice slicing through the silence.T