Valentina kicked open the door to Connor's hotel suite with Axel's boot, heart pounding and gun in hand—Axel's gun, technically, but semantics didn't matter right now.
Empty. Bed made. Suitcase gone.
"Shit." She lowered the weapon, hands shaking. "He knew we were coming."
Axel moved past her, checking the bathroom and closet. "He's smart. Probably cleared out hours ago."
"There has to be something." Valentina started rifling through drawers, desperation making her movements sharp. "He lived here for weeks. People leave traces."
"Val, we need to go. Hotel security—"
"I'm not leaving without answers." She yanked open the desk drawer. Empty except for hotel stationery. She pulled it out anyway, tilted it toward the light. Indentations on the pad beneath, like someone had pressed too har
