Falcon leaned back into the leather seat as the aircraft cut through the night sky, its engines humming with a steady mechanical rhythm while it carried him across the Atlantic toward the United States.
For several minutes he said nothing.
His eyes were closed, but sleep never came.
Too many thoughts were circling through his mind like vultures.The warehouse incident.
The unseen mastermind who had pulled the strings from the shadows.
The sudden resurfacing of Lucien-a name that alone could make powerful men lower their voices.
And then there was the matter that weighed on him far more heavily than he was willing to admit.
Isabella.
The name echoed in his head like a quiet whisper that refused to disappear.
Isabella.
Falcon opened his eyes slowly and turned his gaze toward the window.
