"I'm leaving the hospital. What's the status?"
"Crime scene's active. NOPD's processing the property. Andy's coordinating evidence collection." His tone shifts. "Luc, Julien was executed. Professional hit. Single shot to the back of the head. No signs of struggle, no defensive wounds. Whoever did this wanted him dead fast and clean."
"Timeline?"
"Coroner estimates time of death within an hour of when they grabbed you. Which means the shooter was either already at the property or arrived shortly after."
I process that. Julien drugs me, restrains me, then gets executed by someone who knew exactly where to find him. Not random. Not panic. Calculated.
"I'm heading to the property now," I say. "Andy still running the shell corp trace?"
"Yeah. Cyber team's been on it all night. We should have confirmation soon. The company is registered as a Delaware LLC. Delaware’s laws regarding registration are far more favorable than Louisiana’s. And they are a pain in the ass to pierce through, but they're close."
"Good. I want to see the scene before they move the body."
"Andy's holding it for you. Coroner owes him one." Remy pauses.
"How did you find me? Julien jammed my comm."
"We found a list of Julien’s properties and made an educated guess. We got there before he could destroy everything. Thermal imaging showed three heat signatures when we arrived—twomobile, one stationary. By the time tactical breached, only two remained. You and Julien's body."
So the shooter was already gone before my team arrived. Fast. Clean.
"I'll be there in less than an hour," I tell Remy.
"Copy that."
I end the call. Simone's already moving toward the door.
"I'm coming with you," she says.
"No."
"Luc—"
"You're going back to the guest house with an operative escort. You're staying there until I clear you for movement." I pull on my boots, lace them with movements that are automatic despite the pounding in my skull. "This is a crime scene. Active investigation. You don't need to see Julien's body."
"He was stalking me. Someone killed him because of me. I have a right?—"
"You have the right to stay safe while I figure out who's trying to destroy you." I stand, move into her space. Close enough that she has to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. "This isn't negotiable, Simone. You follow my commands or you walk away from Rapier Strategic's protection. Which is it?"
Her jaw tightens. I can see the fight in her eyes, the instinct to push back, to assert control she doesn't have in this situation.
"Yes, Sir," she says quietly.
"Good girl." I look toward the door where Derek's posted. "Derek will take you back to the guest house. You stay there. You don't leave, don't open doors or windows, don't make decisions about your safety without running them through me first. Clear?"
"Clear."
Derek steps into the doorway on cue.
"Take her back to the estate," I tell him. "Follow standard protocols."
She nods, but there's something in her expression that makes me pause. Fear, maybe. Or the weight of knowing someone died because of the threat against her.
I wait until Derek escorts her out before I head for the exit. A nurse tries to stop me at the station. Something about discharge paperwork and doctor's orders.
I keep walking.
