"Where are you, Bastian?" Luca asked as he came to a place filled with silence, away from the party.
"In the car, on the way to the private airfield," Bastian replied. "Securing Martin was a mess. This man has more security than a vault. Did you identify the mole?"
"No," Luca clipped out.
"It's someone in your inner circle, Luca. Watch your back," Bastian warned. "I'm at the hangar now, I have to go. Find that rat before they move on you; the second they realize Martin is gone, they're going to burn every bridge to get to you."
The call cut to static. Bastian stepped out of the black sedan, his eyes fixed on the private jet idling on the tarmac.
Back at the event, Luca stood by the tiered fountain. Every guest in a tuxedo, every waiter with a tray, and every executive offering a handshake was now a suspect.
"There you are. We've been scouring the entire garden for you," Remo's voice broke his focus. Luca turned to see Remo and Marco weaving through the socialites.
