The black Maserati Levante Trofeo moved steadily through the busy streets of Imperial.
Behind the wheel, Lu Tian's expression remained cold and unreadable. His dark eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but his thoughts were far from the traffic surrounding him.
He needed to get home.
To Yue Ling.
The thought of his wife being in any kind of danger was enough to make his jaw tighten.
He had only left her that morning, promising to return as soon as he finished his business. At the time, he had expected Xu Long's report to concern the remaining members of Red Militant.
He had not expected to learn that the man responsible for Lee Shin's death was alive, moving freely through Imperial, and wearing the face of the very person he had murdered.
Lu Tian's fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
He glanced briefly at the passenger seat.
A thick folder rested there, its contents neatly arranged beneath a dark cover.
