The Burning Mystery

Zane~

The moment my plane touched down in Paris, the city greeted me with its usual symphony—honking cars, hurried footsteps, and the distant hum of conversations in French. The neon lights of Charles de Gaulle Airport glowed against the night sky as I stepped out of the plane, my black trench coat billowing slightly in the evening breeze. It was exactly 9 p.m.

I had a plan: land, get to my private villa, contact Sebastian's network, and start tracking Jacob and Natalie's whereabouts. But things unfolded far more smoothly than I had anticipated.

Just as I reached the airport's entrance, a sharp-eyed man in a crisp gray suit approached me. He had the air of someone who had seen too much and spoken too little.

"Monsieur Lucky?" His French accent was thick but refined.

I gave him a slow nod, my gaze sharp. "Oui. Vous êtes l'agent de Sebastian?" (Yes. You're Sebastian's agent?)