Silence. The calm before something terrible.
The fallout from Aria’s press conference had ignited every screen across the country. Major networks replayed her statements on loop, dissecting the footage of Regina and Elias with surgical precision. Public sympathy shifted like a tide finally changing course, and investors began crawling back with renewed interest, but Aria didn’t celebrate.
She knew better.
It wasn’t over.
“Reports say Regina fled her penthouse in the early hours,” Grant noted, flipping through security logs as the team reconvened in the tower’s war room. “No flight records, no border activity. She’s gone underground.”
Aria sat at the head of the table, her eyes laser-focused. “Then she’s waiting. Or being protected.”
“By Elias?” Jerry asked.
Isabelle tapped her table
