As we stepped out of the Maybach, the air itself seemed to bend around Charlotte. I grabbed her laptop like it was mine, no hesitation, no glance back. Charlotte didn't blink, no objection. Just adjusted her blazer like she'd expected it.
That told me everything I needed to know.
'Either she trusts me now… or she's too overwhelmed to think straight and trusts me now completely. Probably both. That works.'
She raised a single manicured hand and flicked two fingers. Her front bodyguards, Duncan and Jake—both the kind of men who looked like they had ex-military trauma stored alphabetically—stepped back like chess pieces.
A perimeter opened up around us in silence, not a word exchanged, just the smooth choreography of people used to operating in classified zones and hostile territories.
"This way," Charlotte murmured, her voice all cool command and subtle thrill.
