The afternoon sun had just begun to sink, casting golden rays through the gaps in the windows of the Blackthorne master bedroom. The atmosphere inside the room still retained the remnants of warmth after the storm of passion had subsided. A thick blanket covered part of Isolde’s voluptuous body as she lay there with steady breaths, while Lucien sat on the edge of the bed wearing a black satin-trimmed bathrobe.The mature man looked calm, but the sharpness in his eagle-like eyes conveyed absolute determination. With a composed movement, Lucien reached for his smartphone lying on the small bedside table, then dialed a secret number with his strong fingers.The call connected after two rings.“Hello, Mr. Lucien?” a middle-aged man’s deep voice came from the other end of the line, filled with absolute obedience.Lucien listened for a moment before speaking in his cold, flat, and deadly baritone, without the slightest hesitation. “Find out the whereabouts of a man named Gavin. Isolde’s for
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