His hand lingers at my waist for half a second longer before he lets go.
“Five minutes,” I repeat softly.
He nods.
But his eyes stay on mine.
And there’s something unspoken there.
Something solid.
Unshakable.
“Stay close,” he says.
A small smile finally breaks through.
“Not a chance I won’t.”
Yeah.
We’re definitely not done.
51
Jase
The jet is already waiting.
Engines humming low, steady, like it’s just as ready to move as we are.
Rain beads across the sleek black surface, reflecting the flashing lights from the convoy that brought us in. No markings. No identifiers.
Just power.
Just purpose.
Typical.
“Wheels up in two,” Ethan calls as we approach.
Delta Five moves like clockwork—gear loaded, weapons secured, no wasted motion. Everyone knows what’s coming next.
Zurich.
No one says it.
We don’t have to.
I step up into the jet, the familiar scent of leather, metal, and fuel hitting me instantly. Controlled. Contained.
Safe.
For now.
Mila comes in right behind me.
Close.
