Jett Westgate slowly closed in on her. Annelise Valentine took half a step back, her back pressing against the handrail of the boarding stairs, which jolted her slightly back to her senses.
She turned her head to look at the man who had led her here. "Are you Jett Westgate's men?"
The man froze for a moment, then shook his head. "Miss Valentine, we're Mr. Kingston's men. This plane was chartered by him, too." He turned his head to look at the imposing figure of Jett Westgate not far away. "But... we didn't expect this to happen."
They were Henry Kingston's men. The plane was real, too.
Henry Kingston, that old bastard, hadn't lied to her. He hadn't snitched.
'But if that's the case, how is Jett Westgate here?'
She looked at Jett Westgate. If Henry Kingston hadn't betrayed her, then there was only one explanation: Jett Westgate had found out himself.
Annelise Valentine's voice rose. "Stay where you are! Don't take another step!"
