Chapter 29

He was mid-conversation on a secure phone, his voice carrying the clipped cadence of a man accustomed to issuing instructions that would be followed without repetition. His charcoal suit sat on his frame like armor — Italian wool, hand-stitched, cut close enough to suggest the lean, coiled musculature beneath without revealing it. He radiated impatience the way a furnace radiates heat: invisibly, but unmistakably.