She walked out into the grey English rain, her heels clicking a rhythm of rage. But by the time she reached her car, the rage had cooled into something harder: a plan.
He was not what she expected. No dark glasses, no earpiece. Just a mild man in a beige raincoat, carrying a briefcase. He introduced himself as Mr. Albrecht and asked to see the codex. whitney st john cambro
“I want you to tell Szász that the codex was a fake. That O’Flaherty tried to cheat him. That the real codex is gone—lost, destroyed, who knows. And I want you to leave my warehouse, my clients, and my ex-husband alone.” She walked out into the grey English rain,