t of Le Bernardin, a three-Michelin-

he maitre d' immediately escort

herself. "I need to freshen up

pulling a heavily modified t

f the booth. The restaurant was too quiet, too boring. He walked out

er in Russia to scrub the traffic camera footage of their Lincoln leaving JFK. He didn't

oors of the resta

ut, their voices hushed and respectful. At

ethal. He wore a bespoke charcoal suit that hugged his broad should

s screen, completely absorbed in outmaneuvering his dig

h

impact sent the boy stumbling backward. The tablet

, stepping back as if

ed clumsy people. He looked down, a

forehead, annoye

eyes

. The air in his lungs vanished. His heart skipped a beat

emples-a phantom ache from a memory he couldn't access. The car crash had taken a

atched the man's face to the cover of the Forbes magazi

CEO of Vaugh

ained a mask of childish innocence. He quick

up his tablet, and wipe

the boy. He slowly bent down, his large, call

took a swift step backward,

strange, hollow ache bloomed

urgently, checking his watch. "The acq

to his full height, forcing his express

ring look, then turned and str

closed. The e

gh the tinted window, unable to tear his eye

childish expression vanished, repla

ication, and meticulously typed out the Maybach's license pl

hurried out of the restaurant, looki

looked up at her, his eyes wide and innocent.