He didn't think that he would meet someone who was probably just as machiavellian as his archenemy— Gloria Clark.
It wouldn't be hard to understand that the blond knew what he wanted from the way he managed to find the place he was in and came to him with something his vision missed out.
At 9:45 that night, their car finally stopped two blocks from the gate leading to the underground city of Manhattan.
"You don't look like someone who frequents the underground city," Blair said, "How come you learn about the slaughterhouse?"
The blond lifted his brows and replied with a sneer instead, "Did you forget what you just said? I am a machiavellian. How come I explain myself to you?"
Blair couldn't help but grin when he heard it. Before he could come with anything in return, his guard had reported again.
