CHAPTER SEVENTY ONE

Grant strode through the sleek airport terminal, a leather overnight bag slung casually over his shoulder.

He moved with an innate grace, slender yet muscular, clad in dark fitted jeans and a steel gray shirt that enhanced his rugged features.

His short sable hair shone under the recessed lights as his glacier blue eyes scanned the area relentlessly.

Those icy eyes noted details most would miss - the positioning of undercover guards, the placement of cameras, the exact distances between check-in desks and first class lounges.

Grant's mind automatically mapped sightlines, calculated where obscured spots might offer momentary blind zones from prying eyes. It was second nature after years living amongst shadows and secrets.

He didn't bother glancing back to confirm he was being followed. He felt their eyes tracking him, five men forming a loose perimeter around their target - himself.

They blended decently enough with other travelers, but Grant detected the tactical spacing, the matching
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