(Elena’s POV)
The room was a stranger's life. A corporate apartment borrowed from someone Julian knew, full of cold modern furniture and framed art that meant nothing. But the wall of glass, floor-to-ceiling, looking down on the city like the view from an airplane, that was what he wanted.
He led me to the window and turned me to face out.
"Look across the street," Julian said. His voice was quiet, the calm of a man about to light a fuse. "The limestone building. Fifth floor. Fourth window from the left."
I found it. A dark rectangle in the glare of the afternoon sun. For a moment, nothing. Then a glint, a lens catching light at the wrong angle. A pair of binoculars. Or worse.
"He's watching right now," Julian murmured, his lips brushing my ear. "He thinks he's hidden. He thinks he's
