"Good afternoon!"
"Good afternoon. How can I help you?"
In a quiet corner of Crestlane District, a young woman in sunglasses pushed open the door to a small café.
"An iced Americano, please."
She took a seat by the glass window, her eyes drifting to the vibrant street outside.
A procession of sleek black cars rolled quietly down the street, their polished surfaces gleaming in the sunlight, disrupting the usual buzz like a ripple breaking the surface of still water.
The motorcade came to a halt in front of The Aurelian, a five-star hotel renowned for its unparalleled luxury and absolute privacy—a haven for the powerful and the elite.
"Who's arrived?"
The crowd began to murmur, phones discreetly lifted to capture the scene.
In Velmont City, the capital of the United States of Artheon, this kind of situation is actually quite common.
The lead car's door opened smoothly, and Samuel Orme stepped out.
His tailored suit fit him impeccably, and his tall, poised figure radiated confidence and control.
His sharp eyes scanned his surroundings, his brow furrowing slightly—a habitual gesture devoid of emotion.
Bodyguards moved swiftly to form a protective wall around him, their movements precise and disciplined, their watchful gazes ready for any threat.
For Samuel, such an entourage was just part of his daily routine.
Adjusting his cufflinks with a calm demeanor, he strode toward the hotel entrance.
At that moment, a small, colorful ball rolled out from the crowd and gently bumped into Samuel's polished shoe. He looked down to see a scruffy boy rushing over, head bowed, to pick up the ball.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" the boy stammered, his voice laced with nervousness and unease. He clutched the ball tightly, his eyes never daring to meet Samuel's.
The bodyguards stepped forward to intercept, but Samuel raised a hand, his voice calm yet firm. "It's fine. He's just a kid."
The guards halted, and the boy let out a relieved breath before vanishing into the crowd. Samuel's gaze lingered for a moment, a faint trace of thought flickering in his expression. Reaching into his pocket, he touched a cold, metallic object. His eyes darkened briefly, though his face remained unreadable.
Across the street in the café, Ellara Voss stirred her coffee, her sharp gaze capturing the entire scene. A faint smile curved her lips.
"Need a hand?" Savannah Carter approached, balancing a tray of delicately arranged pastries. Her tone was casual but carried a hint of concern.
"Relax, darling. I'm just here for coffee," Ellara replied with a light smile.
Savannah glanced toward the motorcade outside, her brow furrowing slightly. "Are they your target?"
"No," Ellara answered smoothly, though a sly glint danced in her eyes.
"Good. Don't bring trouble into my shop," Savannah muttered, rolling her eyes.
Ellara chuckled softly, picking up a pastry and taking her time to savor it. "You know I always keep things discreet." With that, she slipped on her headphones and leaned back, as if immersing herself in the music.
Meanwhile, Samuel entered the expansive lobby of The Aurelian. A poised blonde woman was waiting for him, her professional smile warm and welcoming.
"Good afternoon, sir. Everything has been arranged. Your room is the presidential suite on the top floor. Please follow me."
Samuel nodded slightly, saying nothing as he followed her into a private elevator. The cabin was silent, save for the gentle hum of its mechanics. The woman turned slightly toward him, her tone courteous and precise.
"Your meeting schedule has been sent to your suite. Should you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact me or the concierge desk."
"Thank you," Samuel replied evenly, his gaze fixed ahead, his expression unreadable.
The elevator ascended smoothly before stopping at the top floor. As the doors slid open, Samuel stepped into a corridor lined with soft lighting and adorned with exquisite artwork. At the end of the hall, the suite door recognized his presence and opened automatically.
The spacious suite exuded understated luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a commanding view of Velmont City, its lights twinkling like stars in the night. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, scattering shimmering reflections across the polished marble floors. Designer furnishings were arranged with meticulous precision, radiating an air of serenity and sophistication.
A young man lounged on the sofa. His sharp features were framed by tousled black hair, and his casually unbuttoned white shirt revealed a hint of his collarbone. Absorbed in a thick hardcover book, he didn't acknowledge Samuel's arrival.
"Kieran?" Samuel raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Didn't expect you to come in person."
Kieran Vale closed his book and looked up, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "I had some free time."
Samuel took a seat across from him, his tone carrying a trace of expectation. "The Professor thinks highly of you. I hope you understand his intentions."
"I understand them," Kieran replied, his voice steady, his gaze distant. "But that doesn't mean I agree with them."
Samuel paused, letting out a soft sigh. "Perhaps you should talk to him directly."
"I heard you're investigating a mole," Kieran said, his calm eyes meeting Samuel's.
"The Federation isn't exactly stable," Samuel said with a resigned smile. "The Professor wants to resolve everything before he steps down. Interested?"
"Maybe. If needed, I can help," Kieran replied.
Samuel's surprise was genuine. "That's fantastic. Your help would make things a lot easier."
The suite door clicked shut behind Kieran, leaving Samuel alone in silence. He pulled a USB drive and a small slip of paper from his pocket. The paper bore the name "Zachary Shawn", a diplomat with the United States of Artheon.
Inspecting the USB, Samuel noticed a tiny listening device embedded within. His expression grew cold.
"I think I know who you are," he muttered, his tone edged with annoyance. "But eavesdropping? That's a little rude. Still, thanks for the tip. I'll handle him myself."
As night fell, the city's lights shimmered like rivers of stars. Ellara stepped out of the café, slipping on her sunglasses as she melted seamlessly into the crowd. Her sharp gaze swept over the bustling street like a hawk surveying its prey.
Not far away, the boy from earlier sat at a corner, pretending to play with his ball. As Ellara passed, their eyes briefly met, and the boy made a subtle hand signal.
"Nicely done," she murmured, crouching as if to tie her shoe. In the motion, she slipped him an unmarked credit card. "Take care of yourself. Leave no trace."
The boy nodded in gratitude and darted into an alley, disappearing from sight.
Straightening, Ellara's gaze shifted toward The Aurelian in the distance.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she answered with a playful tone. "Yes, my little angel? What's the plan?"
Whatever she heard made her smile. "Looks like my vacation just got extended."