Page 175 of Villainous Rise

“Are we done here?” Havoc asked. “I have more important things to do than watch this circus.”

Martin gathered his things. “Of course. Thank you for your time.”

“Out,” Havoc said, not bothering with pleasantries. “Now.”

The door slid shut, and I collapsed back into my seat. My body ached from Cipher’s marks, my head throbbed from the confrontation, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

“I need a vacation,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Preferably on another planet.”

Havoc chuckled. “At least it’s over soon. Two months and you’re free.”

I peeked at him through my fingers. “You really think it’s that simple? Valor doesn’t handle rejection well. He’s used to getting whatever he wants.”

“Tough. He’ll have to learn he can’t have everything.” Havoc leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

“I’m not so sure he’s capable of learning that particular lesson,” I muttered. “His ego is bigger than this tower.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

Rough morning, Sparks?

I glanced up at the ceiling, where I knew at least three security cameras were hidden. Of course he was watching. I should be outraged, but honestly, I couldn’t summon the energy.

How long have you been spying?

Expect a call from Wraith in two minutes. He’s uncovered a name.

I sat up straight, suddenly alert and not really caring that he hadn’t answered my question. “Havoc, Wraith is calling in two minutes. He’s found a name.”

Havoc’s eyebrows shot up.

I joined Havoc at his desk. The viewscreen showing the Super News Network was replaced by a stylized “W” wrapped in digital smoke. Exactly two minutes later, the smoke on screen parted to reveal a featureless backlit silhouette.

“Havoc,” Wraith’s digitally altered voice filled the room.

“You have information?” Havoc asked.

“I do. I’ve traced the modifications to their source. The person who commissioned the alterations to the designs is Alexander Mercer.”

The name meant nothing to me, but Havoc’s reaction was immediate and visceral. His entire body went rigid, a flicker of dark energy crackling briefly around his fingertips before he contained it.

Wraith began to speak again, but Havoc cut him off with a sharp gesture. “Bishop, you’re dismissed.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“You heard me.” Havoc’s eyes never left the screen. “You’re not needed for this part of the conversation.”

“But I⁠—”

“No.” Havoc’s tone left no room for argument. “Leave. Now.”

“No.” Wraith’s modulated voice stopped me as I started to turn. “Bishop stays.”

“This isn’t up for debate,” Havoc growled.

“Actually, it is.” Wraith’s voice hardened. “Bishop is my only contact for this investigation. I don’t want her in the dark—it makes information relay more difficult and increases the chance of error.”

Havoc’s eyes flashed, energy swirling within their depths. “She doesn’t need to be here or know what we’re going to discuss to be effective.”