Eleanor's POV
My voice was tight, barely concealing the wave of frustration boiling inside me. Alexander's face, hard as stone, didn't flinch. Lawrence walked ahead, already heading toward the exit, but Alexander stopped, his hand gripping my wrist just enough to pull me back.
"Bluffing or not, he's holding something. I could see it in his eyes," Alexander muttered, his voice low but sharp. His gaze met mine, cold with calculation. "We can't dismiss him yet. He's playing us, but we need to know how deep he's in."
I bit the inside of my cheek, letting his words sink in. The adrenaline from the encounter still buzzed through my veins, but under that was a creeping fear—fear that Noah knew more than he was letting on.
"And what if he does have something? What if..." My words trailed off as I searched Alexander's face for reassurance. For once, I didn't see any.
Alexander's jaw tightened. "Then we stay ahead. We make the next move, not him."
