~ Lucien ~
"She's out," Marcus said over the line. "The elevator just hit the lobby. She looks like she’s seen a ghost, but she’s moving fast."
I didn't answer. I stood at the window of Room 402, my forehead pressed against the cold glass. From this height, the city looked like a circuit board, and Seraphina Vale was the only spark moving across it. I watched a yellow cab pull up to the curb. A small, elegant figure slipped into the back seat, and then she was gone, swallowed by the early morning traffic.
I turned back to the room. It felt different now. Empty. The scent of her—something like vanilla and expensive soap—lingered in the air, mocking the clinical way I had planned this night.
My eyes landed on the nightstand. A stack of bills sat there, neatly fanned out.
I let out a dry
