11:30 PM - Blackwood Mansion
Emily stood in front of her closet, selecting dark clothing with practiced efficiency. Black jeans, dark sweater, boots with good traction. Clothing that allowed movement, that wouldn't catch light, that could handle a fight if necessary.
Old instincts from another life.
"You're not going alone."
She turned to find Timothy leaning against the doorframe, already dressed similarly. Behind him, Sebastian appeared, wearing tactical gear that looked far too professional for someone who claimed to be just a businessman's cousin.
"The message said to come alone," Emily reminded them.
"The message can go to hell," Timothy said flatly. "If this is a trap, you'll need backup. If it's genuine, then one of your father's loyalists will understand why you brought protection."
Emily wanted to argue, but relief flooded through her instead. She didn't want to go alone. Didn't want to face whatever waited at that warehouse without them.
