"Madam Yvonne, we've found him. Devon Aldridge"
Moments later, the sharp, purposeful click of heels against pavement sliced through the silence, a rhythm that demanded attention, commanding the scene like a conductor's baton.
Claudia emerged from the shadows, her silhouette sleek and formidable, her hair pulled back in a tight, severe bun, her tailored black coat billowing slightly in the night breeze, lending her an air of untouchable authority.
Her eyes, sharp as obsidian, swept over the scene with predatory precision, taking in the guards' tense postures, their hands poised over their weapons, and Devon standing at the center, his smirk a quiet defiance that seemed to challenge the very air around him.
She strode forward, her pace unrelenting, her heels then stopping just inches from Devon. Her gaze seized him up, a quick, clinical scan for any sign of injury or distress bruises, blood, a flicker of fear in his eyes but found none.
