Alexander POV
I don’t announce the trip.
I don’t need permission, clearance, or justification. By the time my jet is fueled and sealed, my office still thinks I’m in London, my board believes I’ve gone dark to cool off, and my security detail assumes I’m following standard protocol.
I’m not.
This isn’t business.
This is pursuit.
The coordinates replay in my mind as the plane lifts off, London shrinking beneath the clouds. Clean numbers. Precise. Routed through enough jurisdictions to make the source untraceable unless you already know what you’re looking for.
She wanted me to see them.
She wanted me airborne.
I lean back in the leather seat, eyes closed, pulse steady. The hum of the engines should be soothing. It isn’t. Every vibration feels like a countdown.
New Zealand.
Neutra
