JULIAN’S POV

I headed down to the basement, where our surveince equipment was set up. The air was cold and still, There were several monitors lined up on the wall, and right now, all of them were focused on the same room–the one where the driver was being held. The lighting in there was dim, casting long shadows, but clear enough for us to observe every expression on his face.

I sank into the chair in front of thergest screen, folding my arms as I listened in through the live audio feed. One of my investigators leaned forward, speaking with deliberate calmness.

“Help yourself out here,” he said. “If you don’t start talking, this couldnd you in prison for a very long time.”

I watched the driver closely, waiting for any hint of reaction. A flinch. A nervous nce. Even a twitch. But there was nothing. He sat there, his face straight, almost emotionless. No fear. No anxiety. Just pure indifference. It made my skin crawl.

Were they going too soft on him?

Before I could think of a new approach, one of the other investigators walked up to me with urgency written all over his face.

“We have something on the other person,” he said. “One of the reporters.”

My head snapped toward him. That was unexpected. They were able to find two people in one day? That was more than I could’ve hoped for. If things kept going this way, and if Olivia managed to get some info about her foster home, there was a real chance we could track down her biological parents too.

“Show me,” I said quickly, getting up and following him to the row ofputers on the other side of the room.

He tapped on a few keys before turning the screen toward me. “Her name is Sandra Jertol. She was one of bthe /breporters present the day Olivia was ambushed. Olivia’s husband might’ve done a decent job covering his tracks, but he didn’t wipe everything.”

He clicked on a video clip, and I leaned in.

The footage was grainy and short, no more than twenty seconds, but there she was- Sandra, holding a microphone, standing near themotion. If we didn’t know what to look for, it would seem like a coincidence. Just another reporter doing her job. But we knew better. And like the driver, she needed to be brought in and convinced to talk. “Do we know where she is now? Sessfully unlocked! the frozen image of her face. The investigator nodded. “Yeah. We tracked her down to a small business event happening right now. She was seen just a few minutes ago interviewing a couple of entrepreneurs.”

I clenched my fists, irritated. A public event? Damn it, she was in a public ce which means we couldn’t just move in there and grab her, should we wait for her to leave the event and then follow her back to her house?

Do we have the time to do so?

And there’s a chance she might notice that we’re trailing her from behind.

There’s still a way we could get her.

I could talk to Ron and his team. If we yed this smart, we could get her right there, no need for brute force. We just needed to blend in, get close, and extract her quietly.

Without wasting btime/b, I turned on my heels and made my way upstairs to the quest room where Ron and the others were waiting. Laughter echoed through the hallway before I even opened the door–they were clearly enjoying a moment of lightness bI /bhadn’t been part of.

bI /bstepped inside. “We found the second target, I announced, using my head to motion. for them to follow me.

They immediately dropped what they were doing and followed me back down to the basement.

Just likest time, the briefing was fast and efficient. They listed her name, her age, her upation, and even her usual routine. Everything we needed. Now, it was up to Ron and his team to move in.

“Now this wouldn’t be like thest one,” I said, standing tall as they all assembled in front of me, their postures alert and ready. “You guys are not moving in with tactical gear and stun guns this time. She’s in a public space, surrounded by civilians, and we don’t want any trouble with the cops. So we’re going in differently.”

Ron, ever the straightforward one, furrowed his brows. “What do you mean different?”

he asked.

I took a step forward, crossing my arms. “I was thinking–we get ourselves into the event. We go in dressed like high–profile entrepreneurs. Clean, polished, confident. We mingle, act like we belong there, then try to get her to interview one of us. Once we’ve got her attention, we slip something into her drink–nothing harmful, just enough to get her off her guard. Then we move her out quietly. No chaos, no scene.”

Ron rubbed the back of his neck, thinking it through. Before he could speak, another one of the guys chimed in with a skeptical chuckle, “That’s not a bad idea–except none of us know the first thing about being entrepreneurs.”

I shrugged. “Come on, it’s not rocket science. You hold a champagne ss, act like you own five private jets, and throw around some vague business buzzwords. Just project confidence. Pretend you have all bthe /bwealth and power in the world, like you belong in a boardroom, not a basement.”

The room was quiet for a beat before Ron let out a lowugh. “Well, we’ve already

gotten our payment, so even if we wanted to back out, we can’t. Looks like we’re ying dress–up today, boss.”

A few of the other mercenaries chuckled in agreement, nodding their heads. “We’ll just follow your lead,” one of them added. “Just make sure we don’t end up on tomorrow’s headlines.”

“Trust me, that’s not going to happen,” I said with a smirk. “My maids will bring the suits up to the guest room. Change quickly–we don’t want to lose track of her. The event will only go on for a while.”

They all gave a nod of acknowledgment before turning to leave and prepare.

As they walked off, I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. I only had one thing on my mind–one goal that kept me moving through all this. I needed answers. I needed justice. And I was going to get it, no matter what I had to do or who I had to be in the process.

And I’m sure… any man in my shoes would’ve done the same.

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JULIAN’S POV