The storm outside was a chaotic backdrop to the suffocating silence inside the study. Victoria Ardent gripped the landline receiver, her knuckles white, her breath shallow.
"Stay away from it, Dean," Victoria whispered, her voice trembling but urgent. "The Franz case... tell your people to drop it. Don't look for him."
On the other end of the line, a heavy, frustrated sigh rolled through the speaker. Dean—Lena's father, a man who had known Victoria long before the Ardent name became synonymous with a target—sounded tired, his voice hardening with professional edge and personal betrayal.
