For a moment, there wasn’t a soul who moved.
The chill wind howled through the empty field, stirring up weeds and old trash as if ghosts were sharing secrets.
Isla’s breath snagged in her throat as she looked at Nathaniel, her friend, her betrayer, her… what was he now?
He looked the same. But his presence felt wrong.
Different.
“Drop the g*n, Damien,” Nathaniel said, his voice even, too even.
“Let’s not make this more messy than it has to be.”
Damien did not bring the weapon down.
Instead, he advanced, g*n held firmly with both hands.
“Say something that only he would know.”
Nathaniel tilted his head. “I’m not here to show I’m me. I’m here to send a message.”
He held up the drive.
“This,” he said.
“Has the footage, the internal data logs, Antonov’s last comms, and the buyer
