Tyler left the office a few minutes later, calm and composed.
But the moment the elevator doors slid shut, his expression changed.
His steps are now smoother.
His expression grew darker.
Exactly where I need to be. He thought of Jean. Of her smile. Of the way she used to flinch around him… and the way she no longer did.
He didn't like that.
But he would fix it.
On a yacht.
With champagne, sea breeze… And no exits.
Tyler stepped out of the Kingsley Tower with the weight of success resting lightly on his shoulders. The meeting had gone precisely as planned, Jared Kingsley intrigued, the yacht invitation extended, and every calculated step falling into place like chess pieces obeying a master.
His black car pulled up smoothly. The driver opened the door for him. Tyler was just about to slide in when his phone buzzed.
A news alert.
He glanced at the screen absentmindedly.
Then he stopped.
His jaw now grew tensed.
There, clear as daylight, was the headline.
