A beat.
“The manifest says he boarded, but it was a decoy. He’s still here.”
There was a harsh intake of breath on the other end. Then a violent curse —
“That son of a bitch.”
Damien’s voice dropped to a dangerous, guttural tone.
“He’ll pay for this.”
Then, lower: “Where is she?”
James forced himself to stay level.
“Last confirmed sighting was at 7:05 this morning. Outside her apartment.”
He swallowed.
“We’ve got footage. She looked hesitant. Uneasy. But she got into his car.”
Damien didn’t respond immediately.
Damien’s silence was a steel trap, the weight of it pressing down like a physical force. When he finally spoke, his voice was ice— sharp, cold, and deadly.
“Send me everything. Every frame Monroe pulled. High-res images. Timestamps. License plates. I want a dossier—airt
