"Tryson… Tryson…"
The sound of his name echoed in his hazy mind, the last words he heard before his body lost all strength.
Just as his knees buckled, and he was about to collapse onto the cold floor, a pair of arms caught him—firm yet eerily gentle.
Through his blurred vision, he swore the woman holding him looked like Angel. But something felt off.
She wasn't Angel.
As his consciousness wavered, the truth remained hidden from him.
The woman, in reality, was one of Riley's trusted agents—someone called upon only when the job demanded precision.
Chosen for her striking resemblance to Angel, she had been briefed beforehand.
The plan was executed flawlessly: Alex had already arranged for the cigarette smoke laced with intoxicants to weaken Tryson's senses, making him easier to manipulate. This way, he wouldn't be as suspicious of his surroundings or his own actions.
The moment the mission was completed, Alex wasted no time.
