They entered Zurich at daybreak.
The city sparkled as if it had never encountered corruption—gleaming glass buildings, immaculate trams, and flower boxes adorning every ledge. Yet beneath that shine, Sienna sensed the decay. The sort of wealth that didn’t pose questions, that safeguarded authority with courtesy and offshore accounts.
Madame K operated from the 23rd floor of an unassuming marble structure that overlooked the Limmat River. The lobby radiated an ambiance of understated elegance: soft illumination, Swiss artwork, and two courteous yet intimidating men flanking the elevator.
Jack casually flashed a fake investor ID. The guards inspected it, then scrutinized his face before nodding. Still, Sienna’s heart raced.
The elevator ride was quiet—until Tasha let out a sharp breath.
