Two hours later…
The stark brightness of the holding room felt nothing like the soft glow of the ballroom.
Everything here was clinical. Controlled. Observed.
Roxana sat across from Alexander, the sip of water doing little to steady the lingering adrenaline in her body. Her pulse had only just begun to settle, though every now and then it surged again, reminding her of the moment she had seen the guns raised at him.
Secret Service protocol had been swift and uncompromising. They had been separated immediately, secured and identified, their every movement tracked, every word measured.
Alexander had been restrained at first, standard procedure for an unidentified individual breaching a secured perimeter. Then came the secondary layer. Their credentials were confirmed, backgrounds flagged and cleared, and other records were checked.
