Page 173 of Black Reign

VESPER: You’re annoying.

GHOST: You came to my city.

VESPER: London does not belong to you.

GHOST: Several buildings disagree.

VESPER: Rich-boy answer.

Something about that catches.

Vesper has always disliked inherited money.

So have I.

For very different reasons, apparently.

I glance toward the ARGUS screens.

Adrien Beaumont’s file remains open.

Restricted access.

Historical Blackwell contracts.

Half the meaningful portions buried beneath authorization barriers my father hasn’t explained.

Vesper’s message arrives again.

VESPER: Go work, Mr. Blackwell.

My eyes narrow.

I’ve never told her I’m working.

Not unusual.

It’s Tuesday afternoon.

Still.

GHOST: Watching me again?

VESPER: Always.

Then she disappears.

I stare at the dark channel.

Across the room, my assistant clears his throat.

“Your twelve-thirty is waiting.”

I look toward him.

“Move it fifteen minutes.”

“It’s the minister.”