Lucien's grin widened even further, if that was possible. Up close, Noah could see details that he had missed from across the atrium. The slight darkness under his eyes that suggested he had not been sleeping well, or perhaps that he had been sleeping too well but doing other things with his nights instead. The small and almost invisible scar near his left eyebrow, pale against his skin and easy to overlook unless you were standing very close. The way his fingers moved constantly and restlessly, adjusting his cuffs and touching his tie and never quite settling into stillness. It was like watching a hummingbird dressed in an expensive suit."You are just the person I was looking for, Chairman. I was actually on my way to your office when I spotted you walking in this direction. Save me the remainder of the walk, which I appreciate more than you know." He laughed, a short and sharp sound that echoed slightly in the open space of the atrium. "Though I have to say, you have wasted

Smiling, he snapped his fingers, the sound echoing in the open space.“She is the primary head of Nicholson Industries now. Chairman, did you know that detail? She consolidated complete control of the company about six weeks ago, bought out all the remaining shareholders, and made herself the undisputed leader of the entire operation."Noah had not known any of this. He had deliberately and carefully avoided any news about Nicole, any updates about her life or her company or her movements since the divorce. She had made her choice when she stood beside Steven Crestwood and told him he was yesterday's news. He had made his choice when he signed the papers and walked away without looking back. What she did afterward was not his concern and he had not wanted it to be."She has been positioning herself for this merger for months and months," Lucien said. "And Simon, my dear brother, always so eager to please our father, always trying so desperately to prove that he is worthy of the inh

Noah straightened in his chair. The fog that had been clouding his thoughts all afternoon began to clear, replaced by a sudden and focused attention."You found him. That was fast.""The photograph I took was not ideal, but it was enough to work with." Rebecca crossed the room and set the manila folder down on his desk, aligning it precisely with the edge of the wood in that particular way she had. "I ran the image through facial recognition software and cross-referenced the results with every database I could access. Criminal records, professional licensing boards, social media platforms, even old military records. It took most of the night, but I got a hit around four o'clock this morning."Noah opened the folder. The first thing he saw was a photograph, much clearer than the grainy image Rebecca had shown him in the car. It looked like it had been pulled from a social media account or perhaps an old news article, candid and slightly off-angle. The man in the photograph was round an

Hours later, the convoy slowed, then came to a quiet stop outside Noah’s apartment building.9:47 PM.The time lingered on the dashboard longer than it needed to, like it was trying to mark something important. Or maybe he just noticed things like that more now—small, unnecessary details that filled the space when his mind didn’t want to think too hard about anything else.Outside, the evening had settled into that strange, unfinished color. Not quite dark, not really light either. The sky looked tired. Like it had been dragged from blue into black and hadn’t decided where to stay.Noah stayed where he was.The engine cut off, and with it, the low vibration beneath his feet disappeared. The silence that followed wasn’t immediate—it crept in slowly, filling the car inch by inch until there was nothing else left.He didn’t reach for the door.Didn’t move at all, actually.His hands rested on his thighs, fingers slightly curled, like he’d forgotten what they were supposed to do next. His

The night had deepened by the time Rebecca reached her destination.The apartment was dark when Rebecca let herself in.She didn't turn on the lights, didn't need to. Her eyes had adjusted to the dim glow filtering through the blinds, the pale orange of the streetlights painting long stripes across the hardwood floor. She moved through the space with the ease of someone who had walked these floors a thousand times, her footsteps silent, her breathing even.Everything was in its place.The weapon case on the kitchen counter. The surveillance equipment spread across the coffee table. The change of clothes laid out on the back of the chair,.dark, nondescript, the kind of outfit that let you blend into shadows and disappear into crowds.She was going after Fieldmann tonight.The thought settled into her chest with the weight of certainty. Rebecca had been out tracking on him since she uncovered his identity. She knew his routine: up at six, coffee from the same bodega, office by eight.