Morning light filtered through the clouds, casting a silver sheen over Eastvale’s skyline. Jack Parker stood by the Thompson villa’s entrance, wearing a black suit that clung to his broad frame. Sarah walked up beside him in a flowing cream dress, her steps slow, uncertain.
Lisa, the poised Thompson assistant, stood behind them, holding a leather folder. “The meeting’s set for ten sharp at Violetcrest Club. Olivia’s hosting it herself,” she said with quiet urgency.
Jack nodded once. “Let’s get it over with.”
As the sleek Mercedes glided through the gates and onto the private road, Sarah glanced at Jack. “You sure about this? The people there… they aren’t like the ones we dealt with yesterday. These ones smile while stabbing you.”
Jack didn’t respond right away. His fingers tapped rhyth
