They relocated the safehouse once more.
This time, it was hidden behind a closed-down bookstore in the countryside of Lyon, complete with creaky stairs and the musty aroma of old paperbacks. Jack despised it. Too many areas with limited visibility. Way too quiet.
Sienna, on the other hand, barely registered her surroundings. She had been fixated on the laptop for hours. Headlines blared from every tab: Warwick Resigns Amid Scandal… Vermeer Found Dead in Apparent Suicide… Interpol Launches Lazarus Probe.
It was unfolding. The empire was beginning to fracture.
Yet something felt off.
“Where's Trevor?” Jack inquired, glancing at his watch. “He was meant to check in.”
“He isn't responding,” Lulu replied, entering the room with a concerned look. “The last signal placed him in Marseille, b
