One down

Rain fell in an insistent drizzle as the Bentley glided through London's congested streets. Marcus drove with practiced precision, navigating the afternoon traffic while Christina maintained her vigilant watch from the front passenger seat. In the back, Isabella sat rigidly upright, her attention fixed on the passing cityscape.

Liam studied her profile - the sharp line of her jaw, the familiar crease between her brows that emerged whenever she was plotting her next move. In a year as her assistant, he'd watched Isabella face down hostile takeovers, navigate regulatory nightmares, and outmaneuver competitors twice her age. But he'd never seen such cold fury in her eyes.

"The information," he ventured, careful to keep his voice low. "How reliable is it?"