"Did he come here to talk about the match?"
Lav's gaze shifted to the car parked in front of the gym, a hint of satisfaction tugging at her lips. She hadn't even needed to summon him. Jaxen had walked right into her grasp, as though fate itself played to her design. "He must be anxious to lose"
Sliding her hand into her pocket, she retrieved her phone and played the recording from the mic she had planted in the office. His voice filtered through—a mix of frustration and demand. As the conversation reached its end, she slipped the phone away.
The snowy air clung to her as she adjusted her coat and let her hair fall forward, framing her face with a soft, deliberate touch. Lav tilted her head toward the ashen sky, her lips slightly parted, letting her breath curl in the chill like whispers of smoke.
