The garage was supposed to be silent after hours. But silence has a way of screaming when you’re not supposed to be there.
It was past midnight when I slipped back in through the service door, hoodie up, sneakers silent on the polished concrete. The air was cold enough to bite — all sharp edges and secrets.
Adrian’s office was on the upper floor, glass-walled and immaculate like the man himself. I’d seen him lock it earlier, but he wasn’t as untouchable as he liked to think. His access cards had a pattern. His habits had a rhythm. And I’d spent enough nights reading people instead of manuals to notice both.
I wasn’t here to snoop — okay, maybe I was — but I needed answers.
That blueprint haunted me. The VX-R3 system wasn’t some ordinary setup. It was Rogue’s. And if Adrian had it, that
