The heavy glass doors of the medical suite hissed shut behind me, sealing Valerius in his silent, artificial sleep. The soft, rhythmic beeping of his life support monitors faded into the thick, soundproofed walls. I stood alone in the dimly lit corridor of the Apex penthouse, the immense, suffocating weight of the Thorne Syndicate suddenly crashing down onto my fragile shoulders. I was a struggling waitress twenty-four hours ago, desperately trying to pay rent. Now, I was actively preparing to hunt a highly trained traitor inside a billionaire warlord's criminal empire. It was utter, terrifying insanity.
Viktor waited patiently at the end of the hall, his massive arms crossed tightly over his tactical vest. He didn't rush me. He watched me with a terrifyingly blank expression, waiting to
