A young man in a tailored black suit crossed the threshold of the towering building, a sleek briefcase held firmly at his side. The quiet hum of the elevator carried him to the uppermost floor, the seconds stretching in silence until a soft chime signaled his arrival. A spacious room opened before him, its floor-to-ceiling glass walls revealing the city far below, distant and unmoving. At the center stood a polished white table, the Russian flag preserved beneath a thick layer of glass.
Deliberate steps carried him forward until he stood before it. A brief pause lingered in the air, before he set the case down. "I've brought you some more," he said, his voice low, as if the room itself were listening.
Another man stood behind the table, older, his gaze fixed through a lengthy telescope trained on the city below. Streaks of white ran through his hair and mustache, matching the sharp sheen of his silver suit, its top left carelessly unbuttoned.
"Do you know what makes this city valuable?" he said, his voice calm, attention still anchored to the distant view. "Not the buildings... not the people. It's the information that moves between them-and who gets it first."
A quiet pause followed as he adjusted the lens, his movements unhurried.
Only then did he straighten and turn to the younger man, his eyes sharp with quiet authority.
"Let's see what you've got for me today."
The younger man obliged, opening the suitcase and revealing its contents. Carefully, he extracted seven photos, laying each one out on the surface before him.
The older man made his way back to his chair, settling into it before carefully inspecting the array of photos.
"My men spotted her in Greenfield, Detroit last night. They're certain she entered the building while it was ablaze. You can see it clearly in these photos," the young man elucidated, his voice carrying a mature, authoritative tone.
"An entire year. A year of searching, and all you bring me are seven photos," The old man's response exuded dissatisfaction, his words measured but his expression revealing his discontent.
"After the battle at Dunn Mountains, she vanished without a trace. I deployed agents across multiple countries to locate her, only to discover she has returned. Our initial assessment is she's back for the boy," the man reported.
The older man leaned forward, accessing a concealed compartment beneath his table. He drew out a brown folder and laid it on the table, flipping it open.
The folder revealed a series of photographs of Clair, many capturing the striking presence of her black wings. He seven new images were added to the collection, slid neatly into place before the folder was closed and returned to its hidden compartment.
"Get to the bottom of what's happening between her and the boy. He might just be our ticket to finally capturing the raven," he instructed.
With that, the young man said nothing more and departed the room.
****《•》****
As they sat on the bottom steps of the staircase, Zach asked, "Could you remind me of the first time I saw your wings?"
"It happened at the Burken bridge, around midnight. You found me standing on the railing. You panicked, thinkng I might jump off. Well, I did jump, but then I soared into the air. I was... so frightened. Afraid you might freak out and run away, but you didn't. You approached and pulled me into your arms. That's when I knew I wasn't wrong to believe in you," she reminisced.
YOU ARE READING
Divine & Wicked: The Strayed Memories (Book2)
Fantasy(Fantasy•Romance) COMPLETED Zach awoke a few days after his surgery, his mind foggy and his heart empty, as though his life had been reset. He moved through what he believed was his normal routine, unaware that fragments of a forgotten past were slo...
