The Mulsanne Grand Limousine cut through the rain-slicked streets of the Central District like a silent, black predator.
Inside, Adrian sat on the seat opposite Lucian, dressed in another suit that cost twice the last one.
He kept his spine straight, his hands folded neatly in his lap to hide the fact that his fingernails were digging into his palms. He didn't look at Lucian. He watched the city through the glass, the flickering lights of the city casting shades of blue and gold across his bruised face.
Lucian watched him. The Director hadn't moved since they entered the vehicle. He sat with a terrifying, stillness, his gold eyes fixed on Adrian.
"Your mother is no longer in that house," Lucian said suddenly.
The voice was calm. Measured.
