In the lab, Burton and his girlfriend Gloria Edwards were having the time of their lives, but the bodyguards stationed outside, peering through the clear glass, felt nothing but dread.
The bodyguards had just gotten word from Luca that Harold had bolted from the city on his private jet, bringing me and his crew along for the ride.
They still hadn't pinned down Harold's flight route, but Luca had been crystal clear—they needed to watch Burton like hawks and make damn sure he didn't bolt or stir up any chaos.
Luca had also ordered them to keep hammering it into Burton's head that he needed to lay low during this stretch to dodge any unwanted drama.
Luca was playing it extra safe because the timing reeked of setup. Harold had taken off right around the same time as their private jet.
Coincidences like that didn't exist.
