Lucien Silvyr watched from the security feed.
She wasn't cleaning like a janitor. She was scanning the room—eyes darting to corners, noting camera placements, moving with the precision of someone who had been trained for something else.
And that, more than anything, intrigued him.
"Run a background check," he said into his earpiece. "Elena Frost. Cleaning crew. Started today."
"You want the standard clearance?"
"No," he said softly. "Go deeper. I want her real name."
The feed flickered. Aria's image paused on screen—her hand hovering above a silver photo frame on his desk.
She was about to see something s
he shouldn't.