The silence that followed was sharp.
Damien closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath—then exhaled hard.
“Look harder.”
James hesitated.
A fraction too long.
He cleared his throat carefully. “Sir, I—”
“Well?” Ashcroft cut in, unimpressed. “Spill it, Horton.”
James straightened, choosing his words with precision.
“Your father called,” he said. “He believes we’re wasting resources. His exact words were that if Madam Dahlia doesn’t want to be found, she won’t be. He said she has… ways.”
Damien’s jaw tightened.
“He also mentioned,” James added, “that he has attempted this before. Multiple times. And failed. His advice was to be patient. They’ll return when they’re ready.”
Ashcroft let out a low whistle, slow and impressed. “Damn. Even your parents are betting against you.”
James sh
