Page 127 of Black Reign

Private jets.

Boardrooms.

Power passed from father to son.

No.

Ghost cannot be Xavier.

The idea is laughable.

Which is why I don't laugh when I finally see him.

He comes down the main staircase fast.

Not walking.

Not quite running.

Controlled men don't run unless something matters.

Xavier Blackwell slides past Kane Haverhill and the other men gathered below.

They turn.

Drew says something.

Xavier doesn't stop.

My pulse changes.

I am carrying champagne toward a service station twenty feet away.

Brown wig.

Brown eyes.

Tan skin.

White catering jacket.

Forgettable.

I lower my gaze and keep moving.

Then Drew follows.

So do the others.

Interesting.

I change direction.

Not toward them.

Parallel.

Enough to watch reflections in the glass doors without staring directly.