The SUV pulls out of the estate. The guest house disappears through the rear window, lit and secure. But empty of the one person I need to know is safe.
The drive through New Orleans feels surreal. Late-night streets, closed businesses, the occasional bar still lit with patrons spilling onto sidewalks. Normal city life continuing while racing toward my building where Luc might be walking into an ambush.
Remy's phone buzzes. He answers via hands-free. "Report."
Andy's voice fills the vehicle. "Luc's still not responding. I'm on the executive floor now. His GPS shows him in or near Simone's office."
My office. Julien lured Luc to my office specifically.
"Any sign of Julien?" Remy asks.
"Negative. His phone signal went dark right after Luc's GPS stopped moving."
"Fuck." Remy accelerates slightly. "We're a few minutes out. NOPD backup?"
"Staging two blocks away. Waiting for your signal."
"Hold position until we assess." Remy ends the call, glances at me in the rearview mirror. "When we get there, you stay in the vehicle with one of Andy's team until I clear the floor. Non-negotiable."
"Understood."
The Central Business District appears through the windshield. High-rises and business towers, my building among them. LaCroix Petroleum in tasteful letters across the entrance. Home territory that suddenly feels hostile.
Remy pulls into the executive parking garage. Two vehicles are already there—Andy's team, positioned near the elevator bank. Andy exits when he sees us, moves to Remy's window. His face is grim.
"Still no contact from Luc," Andy says without preamble. "But I need you to see something."
He pulls up his tablet, shows us security footage. Timestamped from minutes earlier. My office. Luc entering, his weapon drawn, moving like the operative he is.
Julien steps out from behind my desk. Two armed men flank him.
Luc doesn't hesitate. He fires, drops the first man. Pivots to the second. But Julien's already moving, something in his hand. When it hits Luc's chest, he goes down. Hard. The weapon falls from his hand.
Julien moves closer. Luc's still conscious, trying to move, but whatever hit him has done its job. Julien crouches beside him, blocking the camera's view.
Luc's struggles weaken. Stop.
Julien and the remaining operative drag Luc's body out of the office.
"Timestamp shows they left through the service corridor," Andy says, voice tight. "Building schematics show it leads to the loading dock. They had minutes ahead of us before I got here."
Long enough to be anywhere in the city.
"Your office shows signs of struggle," Andy continues. "No ID on the body. Broken glass. Overturned furniture. Blood on the desk—not much, but enough to confirm physical confrontation."
Blood. Luc's blood.
My email notification chimes. New message. Unknown sender.
I pull out my phone. The email loads with an attached photo—Luc unconscious, restrained, visible bruising on his face. The text overlay is simple.
Now you understand. He can't protect you. But I'll come for you anyway. You've always been mine, Simone.
Julien took Luc to prove a point. To show me that protection means nothing when he decides to act.
"We need to find him." I can barely force the words out. "Now."
"We're working on it." Andy takes my phone, forwards the email to his system. "Photo metadata might give us location data. And we're pulling everything we can on Julien—financials, property records, known associates."
