“This is not the way to Gustav’s place,” Claire said, noticing the unfamiliar towering buildings they are passing by. She was meaning to take a nap but frowned when it takes over thirty minutes drive and yet there’s no line of old trees she remember.
“No. We’re not going back,” Voltaire answered, glancing at the mirror. “My orders is to bring you somewhere else.”
“And that is where?” Claire inquired. Her brow rising and curiosity growing especially when Voltaire pressed his lips in a thin line. The butler is obviously not telling anything. “Is that his order?” She remember the woman who approached Voltaire in the hospital. Nervously, she asked, “Is this about the woman in the hospital—“
“My boss will be waiting for you there.” Voltaire interrupted. “I have no idea with his plan, Ms. Roc
