A sting pulsed through his finger, and when he looked down, a thin bead of blood had begun to well up beneath his ring finger.
***
Meanwhile, the moment Soren stepped out of the penthouse and slid into the waiting car, he was met with an unexpected sight.
"Mr. Vincent?" His irritation from earlier evaporated instantly, surprise flashing across his face as he took in the man sitting behind the wheel.
Before he could ask why the usual driver had been replaced, Vincent spoke first.
"Well," Vincent mused, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, his tone casual but laced with interest. "How did it go?"
Soren narrowed his eyes, his posture stiff. "I did what I was supposed to do. Nothing more."
Vincent chuckled, low and knowing.
"Is that so?" His fingers drummed against the steering wheel. "Because from where I was waiting, it sure took you a while for just a simple delivery."
Soren exhaled sharply. "You're overthinking it."
