Back in the study, Evans clipped the end off his cigar, the soft snip of the cutter and hiss of the flame breaking the silence.
The screen still displayed the image of Zenith Tower, its sleek lines mocking him.
“Whoever you are,” he said softly, “you’re about to learn why no one crosses me.”
He puffed on his cigar, releasing a plume of smoke as he nodded slightly, as if saluting the invisible figure on the other side of the world.
“To the hunt,” he murmured, his eyes glinting with intensity as he settled back in his chair.
~•~
In her penthouse, Sylvia sat at the edge of her bed. The unease from earlier hadn’t faded. If anything, it had grown sharper, like a blade pressing against her skin.
Her instincts told her to move, to leave everything behind and disappear again. But she pushed
