Killian kept the Bugatti moving through the city streets. The deep sound of the engine felt good under his hands. Street lights passed by the windows one after another. He did not pick a real direction at first. He just needed space to think.The black car stayed three cars behind him the whole time. It never got closer. It never fell too far back. Killian checked the mirror every few seconds. The driver was careful. Professional.His phone buzzed again. Another unknown number. This time it was a call.He answered with one hand still on the wheel.“Young master,” Irene’s voice came through, calm but tight. “The system shows you are being followed. Are you safe?”“I see the car,” Killian said. “Black one. Tinted windows. Been on me since the showroom.”“That is one of ours,” Irene answered. “I sent him the moment the bank transaction went through. Your grandfather ordered close protection until you reach London. Do not shake him off.”Killian’s jaw tightened. “I told you I do not need