Chapter 91
A chill ran down Dylan Orlando's neck. His instincts screamed at him to turn around.
"Don't move." Evelyn Roland's voice crackled through his earpiece, sharp and commanding. "Maintain your pace."
He stiffened his shoulders and kept walking. His footsteps echoed through the deserted alleyway.
At the corner, a shadow flickered in his peripheral vision.
"Turn left." Evelyn's instructions were crisp. "Third right."
Dylan quickened his steps, pausing deliberately at the intersection. The footsteps behind him faltered.
Theodore Ashcroft wiped sweat from his brow. His target had accelerated unexpectedly, forcing him into a jog. As he rounded the corner, the alley stood empty.
"Lost him." Evelyn's light chuckle filled Dylan's ear. "Proceed to the safe house."
Darting through a convenience store's back entrance, Dylan flipped his baseball cap backward. The glass door reflected his tense profile.
Theodore clenched his fist and pulled out his phone. The red dot on his screen had vanished.
"Mr. Valdemar..." His voice trembled. "We lost the target."
Three seconds of silence stretched across the line.
"Location." Sebastian Valdemar's tone could freeze hell.
As Theodore recited coordinates, the sharp snap of a breaking pen echoed through the receiver.
In Valdemar Group's penthouse, Sebastian loosened his tie. Security footage froze on Dylan's last known position.
The elevator doors parted. He strode toward the garage, sunlight from the revolving doors making him squint.
"Mr. Valdemar, a moment."
A clear female voice halted him. Evelyn leaned against a marble column, twirling a folder between her fingers.
"Urgent signatures required." Her smile was perfectly calibrated. "Additional clauses for the Shattered Stars project."
Sebastian's gaze flicked to the letterhead. Authentic corporate seals.
"Leave it on my desk." He checked his watch.
Evelyn stepped closer, her subtle perfume drifting between them. Her eyes caught the glint of car keys in his breast pocket.
"Reschedule." He sidestepped her.
Evelyn's hand shot out to hold the elevator. "Actually, there's another—"
Her phone rang. "Director Orlando" flashed onscreen for a split second.
Sebastian's eyes turned arctic.
"My apologies." She declined the call smoothly. "Telemarketers."
As the elevator doors closed, her practiced smile dissolved.
In the parking garage, Sebastian wrenched the steering wheel. The Maybach's mirrors reflected the skyscraper's blinding glass facade.
He dialed another number. "Pull all of Evelyn Roland's recent call logs."
Meanwhile, in the safe house, Dylan stared at a monitor. The black Maybach peeled out of the garage.
"He took the bait." Evelyn entered with two coffee cups, steam curling upward. "That should buy us three hours."
Dylan accepted the cup, his expression obscured by vapor. "Worth the risk?"
Evelyn's hand froze midair. Outside the window, twilight swallowed the last rays of sunlight.