*Lisbeth*
I sit in the back booth of a rather dingy bar, nursing my glass with the golden liquid, trying to keep down my frustrations, when a man approaches me, eyeing my glass. "I see you started without me," he remarks with a smirk.
Looking up, I meet his gaze, my voice heavy with defeat. "Why not?" I reply, my exhaustion seeping through.
He takes a seat across from me, his eyes fixed on mine. "Seems like my request to pull back your agents from the case fell on deaf ears," he says, his tone laced with annoyance.
I shake my head, sighing. "I tried to steer them away, but Bertelsen has been reckless, leaving traces everywhere. They are not dumb."
He continues to study me, a contemplative expression on his face. I can't help but ask, "Are you really okay with Bertelsen getting away wi
